<?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-3971363627726997156</id><updated>2012-02-13T00:34:51.160-08:00</updated><category term='Personal'/><category term='Visual Arts'/><category term='Slash philosophy'/><category term='Rant'/><category term='غربة'/><category term='Women'/><category term='Sports'/><category term='Slash Medicine'/><category term='Japan'/><category term='Society'/><category term='Announcements'/><category term='Music'/><title type='text'>Second run</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>308</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4563014422698149171</id><published>2012-02-13T00:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T00:34:51.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pray</title><content type='html'>If praying works we would've all been millionaires by now &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4563014422698149171?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4563014422698149171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4563014422698149171&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4563014422698149171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4563014422698149171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2012/02/pray.html' title='Pray'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3551836991558030703</id><published>2011-11-17T03:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T04:18:54.091-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The Magical Calculator</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My dad had a very interesting habit when it came to our birthdays; as a parent he didn't want me or my younger brother or older sister to feel not equally loved under any circumstances. So when it was someone's birthday, the birthday kid receives a big gift while the other two get complementary gifts as well. So basically when it was someone's birthday, it was something for all of us to celebrate. I still remember how me and my brother used to scheme to get the best possible out come of the combination of gifts, sometimes we even traded getting both gifts to get a game console or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The birthday festivities didn't end with the whole family going shopping for the gifts, we also got to go to the fast food restaurant of our choice and then head home where we cut the cake.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my sister's 13th or 14th birthday came up - the exact age now escapes me - my parents took the three of us to a giant toy store and dad set us loose with his usual humorous warning of picking something that's less expensive than whatever our sister chooses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As my brother and I ran wild across the aisles carefully memorizing the things we liked the most, my sister quietly browsed the store. After we chose the cheapest dinasour set we could find, we were eager to see what the birthday kid has chosen, out of all the toys and cool stuff they had in that 3 story building, my sister chose a calculator.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wasn't a scientific calculator, it didn't have any extra features, it was a standard calculator with an anime character - Doraemon - theming it. I've looked all over the internet for a picture of it and this was the closest thing I could find. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--cOLsR_kk0c/TsT2gE_3oAI/AAAAAAAAAww/uZkJZFusUeQ/s320/Doraemon-Digital-Calculator-Blue-4-small.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675932461351542786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 144px; " /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still don't know for the life of me why did she pick that of all the things that were there; even my father was puzzled, he thought he was going to get her a new walkman or something and even tried to persuade her to get one, but she insisted on having the bloody calculator. Giving up, my father paid for the calculator and the dinosaur set and took us to Windy's. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In her early teens, my sister became really withdrawn from us and constantly shut us out. My curiosity stopped me from enjoying my dinosaur set and spent most of the drive to Windy's begging my sister to let me see it, but my sister - being her usual self - refused; that drove me crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While our parents were waiting for the food, me and my brother and sister went to play in the ball pool, you know the small area where they have a lot of plastic balls and kids - pretend - to swim in them. We had a blast naturally and worked up an appetite, we went and had our dinner and as we got ready to go home my sister noticed that her calculator was missing. She started crying like mad - which made wonder even more why that thing was so cool - and we went back to the pool to look for it since it was the last place we saw it at. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We spent almost an hour looking for it but it was no use, like a needle in a hay stack that thing was lost forever. To ease the crying frenzy of my sister, my dad took us back to the store to get her another one! Once we got there, my father was faced with another crying child ... me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted one too! I told him that I would give up my set just to have one! I wanted so bad to know what it was! The thing was so cheap that eventually he got two for both of us - my brother didn't care at all and almost never got curious (to this day actually). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't remember exactly how I felt when I finally had it in my hand, but what I do remember is that I played with it for 5 minutes or so and threw it on a shelf somewhere and never saw it again. There was absolutely nothing special about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This whole story and the memory of it however turned that dumb calculator into something magical. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3551836991558030703?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3551836991558030703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3551836991558030703&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3551836991558030703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3551836991558030703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/11/magical-calculator.html' title='The Magical Calculator'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--cOLsR_kk0c/TsT2gE_3oAI/AAAAAAAAAww/uZkJZFusUeQ/s72-c/Doraemon-Digital-Calculator-Blue-4-small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8644242440898595638</id><published>2011-10-29T07:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T07:36:49.863-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='غربة'/><title type='text'>Holy Crap!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Being away from home highlights a lot of things that you miss, most of the time you'd find yourself comparing things that happen to you with how they'd work out back home, sometimes you'd be pleased others you'd be home sick; the one thing i miss the most however is this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWnEXvbvQhg/TqwMeMU83sI/AAAAAAAAAwk/TKjqYcm7h8c/s320/176.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668919743797321410" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In case you're wondering, I'm talking about the thing on the left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;while it bewilders me that people would walk around and continue their normal life with small pieces of feces still dangling from their A-holes(napkins don't cut it, don't try to convince me), I am now forced to take a shower every time I need to go. This has also forced me to carefully schedule my eating habits so that I would be able to be home when the alarm goes off. Naturally, unexpected duty calls can cancel pleasant afternoon walks/gatherings to emergency retreats. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sha66afeh, I miss you dearly :'(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8644242440898595638?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8644242440898595638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8644242440898595638&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8644242440898595638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8644242440898595638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/10/being-away-from-home-highlights-lot-of.html' title='Holy Crap!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWnEXvbvQhg/TqwMeMU83sI/AAAAAAAAAwk/TKjqYcm7h8c/s72-c/176.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5916387798574677593</id><published>2011-10-14T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T21:29:35.182-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Catching up</title><content type='html'>I just realized that i haven't been blogging here for nearly 2 months, overall in 2011 i haven't been treating this blog fairly, so what's keeping you so busy you say? I'm glad you asked.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Work has been the center of my attention and most other aspects of my life revolve around it. There was an initial disappointment for me when i first got to the office, I was assigned to one project that wasn't that challenging and was somewhat down because the company atmosphere while friendly, wasn't that friendly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After spending a couple of weeks there I realized that most people have either just moved in from over seas or were simply new at the company/country. So while i was the new guy at the company so was virtually everyone else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the days moved on, I managed to establish myself among my peers, I worked hard and delivered good results. I got the respect of most seniors and now handle 5 projects at the same time, I'm going for a more technical design position which is challenging and fun, keeps me busy and allows me to work with a larger segment of the team. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have spent a lot of time socializing with the people I worked with as well, there are a lot of interesting people, and most of them are from different countries and backgrounds which makes it even more interesting, there was one time that we were having beer on a Friday - on that, company buys us free beer every Friday, and once a month free pizza - and we noticed that just the small circle of us chatting we had people from Brazil, Korea, India, France, South Africa, Philippines, Australia and myself representing Jordan. Everyone has their story and have something interesting to say about were they come from, which is always nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A couple of weeks ago we registered in a Futsal - indoor soccer - league, it was supposed to be social, but it turned out to be competitive and we had our asses handed to us. We had a team meeting and we decided that we either quit or practice more to become a better team; so now we play twice a week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So from a social stand point, I'm doing all right, I have a group of friends that I do some sports with, a group that I hang out with on Friday nights and drink with, and a group of musicians that I jam with every now and then. I think I've gained people affection and respect, I have been praised as a professional and experienced by multiple people I work with, most with many years of experience in the industry which really made me feel good. After all, one of my objectives to come here to was to see if my skills would measure up in a global environment and so far the results look promising. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm Really enjoying the country as well, nature is just outstanding; sometimes I don't even believe that I'm living/working so close to the ocean. New Zealand, is an outdoors kind of country, people have all sorts of hobbies that are alien to me: surfing, sailing, netball, golf, water sports, fishing and other assorted activities; I have added some to the list of things I want to do myself namely fishing, whale safari and snowboarding. I might be heading up to the mountains next weekend to visit the slopes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Auckland is very peaceful, and with time it grows on you. It's relaxing, laid back and definitely doesn't have the compact feeling of a major city, most of the time it feels like an overgrown village. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With every day that passes, this overgrown village starts to feel a little bit more like home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5916387798574677593?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5916387798574677593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5916387798574677593&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5916387798574677593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5916387798574677593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/10/catching-up.html' title='Catching up'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5926403508394022884</id><published>2011-08-22T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T01:59:16.063-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>من طين بلادك لط على خدادك</title><content type='html'>Everyone who says Jordan sucks should really stop saying it! At least you guys go out on week days after work, streets are alive well past midnight, it's safe to go anywhere you want to go. Food is cheap and you buy cucumber by the kilo not by the piece! (i'm boycotting cucumber btw) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The latest movie show time at a cinema here is 7:30, after 9:00pm - even on weekends mind you - the city turns into a ghost town, if you don't have a car walking alone at night is freaky, simply because you're going to be the only one in the street. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shops close at 7, the average Kiwi is usually in bed by 10:00pm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure there's nature, hundreds of bars and all that. But the atmosphere is so laid back that it almost suffocates you sometimes. I feel retired already. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not sure if that's a good thing or not. Guess I'm a bit home sick, but there's no way in hell I'm giving up yet, there's probably something more to here to explore, I'll take my time doing that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing with immigration is that once i got to New Zealand all the good things about Jordan were instantly highlighted, and I bet that once I go back to Jordan all the bad things would get highlighted as well, it's just the way it is. It's a new life for me and I'm still in the adapting phase, I'm getting there and I'm having fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5926403508394022884?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5926403508394022884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5926403508394022884&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5926403508394022884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5926403508394022884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title='من طين بلادك لط على خدادك'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-9083144669149476037</id><published>2011-07-29T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T17:15:27.521-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Video Game Nostalgia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;Do you know how sometimes you hear a song that you haven't heard in ages? watch parts of a movie from your childhood, or maybe even visit a place you haven't been to in a long time? you know that heart throbbing feeling of yearning to those good old days? It's a wonderful bitter sweet emotion and during last week I've had my share of it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it was mostly due to video games. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you look at a game you haven't played in a long time it transfers you to that world and then the portal is reopened: the characters, the music, the places, the fun, the frustration, how excited you were when you first got it and couldn't wait to go back home to try it out, and most of all the person you were while you were playing it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Games are different from other media in a sense that you actually spend a substantial amount of time with it, it's not a 4 minute song or a 2 hour movie, it's a minimum 12 hour journey through a virtual world, it's something you didn't only receive but placed some amount of effort into receiving, a complete experience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Going back to last week; I'm going to be relocating to a country far away - more news on that later on - so for my last days here in Jordan I've done two things. First of all, play Metal Gear Solid 4 with my younger brother - we've played all previous titles together, so it's something of a tradition, we thought it'll be a fitting good bye sort of thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Mini Spoiler alert*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;in MGS4 you visit the location in which the first game - Metal Gear Solid 1998 - took place and how much it has changed, the game recognizes the nostalgic factor of such a decision so the original outstanding music of "the best is yet to come" plays in the background as you explore the now completely run down island of Shadow Moses, flashbacks are heard throughout, and before you actually go into the mission, you get to play the same landing spot from the first MGS unchanged. Wonderfully made and almost brought tears to my eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y-Dy24yimQE/TjNIpF-7AyI/AAAAAAAAAKs/1oFuJlimHuY/s1600/MGS4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-decoration: none; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; "&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y-Dy24yimQE/TjNIpF-7AyI/AAAAAAAAAKs/1oFuJlimHuY/s400/MGS4.jpg" width="400" style="border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; position: relative; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; border-top-width: 1px; border-right-width: 1px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 1px; border-top-color: transparent; border-right-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-left-color: transparent; -webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.199219) 0px 0px 0px; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.199219) 0px 0px 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px 0px; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px 0px; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Spoilers end here*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other thing which might be the most difficult, I had to say farewell to my game collection, it's not practical for me to move them with me, so all I could do is store them in boxes and hand them to my brother for safe keeping. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N4JxZ1jP1VE/TjNHFnW1U9I/AAAAAAAAAKo/Bgr327vSzLw/s1600/27072011172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-decoration: none; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; "&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N4JxZ1jP1VE/TjNHFnW1U9I/AAAAAAAAAKo/Bgr327vSzLw/s400/27072011172.jpg" width="400" style="border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; position: relative; padding-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; border-top-width: 1px; border-right-width: 1px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 1px; border-top-color: transparent; border-right-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-left-color: transparent; -webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.199219) 0px 0px 0px; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.199219) 0px 0px 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px 0px; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px 0px; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;Needed four boxes to store my PSone, PS2 and DS games &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Placing the games in the box - one by one mind you - was the nostalgic knockout. Things have really changed, and I really wanted to play most of them again which isn't really the most genius of an idea. There were wonderful games that I completely forgot, Breath of Fire V (which automatically reminded me of all the previous titles), Arc the Lad, the first Resident evil, Final Fantasy 7 and loads others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are games that I will come back and visit. But for now, I'll just relay on youtube for the occasional reminiscing retreat. Displaying these guys in my office room really gave me some sense of joy, like a primitive trophy system. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Might be the collector geek inside of me speaking or maybe immigrant fright. Geeky or not however, these guys where my Woody and Buzz as I grew up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Growing up sucks -_-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(65, 65, 65); font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-9083144669149476037?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/9083144669149476037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=9083144669149476037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/9083144669149476037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/9083144669149476037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/07/video-game-nostalgia.html' title='Video Game Nostalgia'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y-Dy24yimQE/TjNIpF-7AyI/AAAAAAAAAKs/1oFuJlimHuY/s72-c/MGS4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6128052143098244610</id><published>2011-07-20T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T14:39:15.746-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Equal treatment double standards</title><content type='html'>All thought it might be obvious from previous posts, but let me say it loud and clear: I really believe that women can do exactly what men can do and more. They should be equal when it comes to almost everything, opportunities, career advancements, politics, driving and whatever the fuck else. I believe that for me to be truly respectful to a woman I would have to treat her as a peer, expect from her to perform as I would expect of myself, I think that showing leniency or patronizing any woman just because she's a woman is insulting. She's an independent, intelligent and intellectual being. That's how I would like to be treated, I figure equality is all about them being treated the same way. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But excuse me ladies, you have a different agenda. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You guys have double standards, when a situation is inconvenient you'd throw the You're-the-man bomb to let guys do things for you. This book is too long, you read it and tell me what's it about, you handle logistics and many more examples of such. On the other hand, at the slightest  hint of a sexist remark they all get upset and angry at you without the need of a proper argument. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Arguing with a woman is the most fruitless task in the world; But that's stepping out of topic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Problem is that's the exact definition of double standards. Quoting wikipedia: "A double standard is the unjust application of different sets of principles for similar situations, thus can be described as a sort of biased, morally unfair suspension of the principle that all are equal in their freedoms".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the question in mind is very simple: How do you like to be treated? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure society has double standards of it's own which makes sticking to one's own ideal a difficult task. But alas, it's difficult not impossible, truly believing in something and sticking to it to the very end is what defines us as people. Shaky beliefs create shaky characters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6128052143098244610?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6128052143098244610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6128052143098244610&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6128052143098244610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6128052143098244610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/07/equal-treatment-double-standards.html' title='Equal treatment double standards'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5188234570410118682</id><published>2011-07-06T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T14:48:00.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facts</title><content type='html'>- Fact is, I was defeated; I went in with that notion, now ready to receive whatever bone they throw at me, grind onto it and run with my tail between my legs, no wagging involved. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I'm addicted to Tobacco. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I will always take the high road which is a sophisticated way to say I will avoid needless confrontation seeking a civilized way out of a given mess; which also means I might get what I need, but I will never quench my thirst for giving the other party a real piece of my mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I will always get the narrow side of the bed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I'm gradually losing the sense of exploration; when you run out of things to figure out, you begin to lose interest, you must then fight hard to maintain it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I'm not the romantic I once was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, most of the time when I'm out with other people, I would be entertaining myself with my own humor rather than being challenged by others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I should learn how to keep my big mouth shut. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, even though I might gain the world, I will always think of all the other choices I left behind. Both those I knew of and those that I didn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I'm an overstatement of myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, even though i'm sure of it most of the time, the ever changing world would always hold me in doubt of what i really want out of it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, between myself and I, I will always be competing with people I never knew. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I don't believe in regret. But the fact is, there will come a time that I would regret some decisions I made. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fact is, I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard that my eyes teared up and I couldn't breathe anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5188234570410118682?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5188234570410118682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5188234570410118682&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5188234570410118682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5188234570410118682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/07/facts.html' title='Facts'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2724071461298788053</id><published>2011-06-19T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T04:45:19.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14px; margin-top: 8px; margin-right: 8px; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 8px; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgb(253, 253, 253); "&gt;&lt;p dir="rtl" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;الإنسان موقف، وأنا جربتك كتير! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2724071461298788053?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2724071461298788053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2724071461298788053&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2724071461298788053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2724071461298788053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8617136587062387689</id><published>2011-06-18T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T10:45:09.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hypothetical situation?</title><content type='html'>A 70 year old man and his almost illiterate assistant had me by the balls today then fondled with my wife's breasts. Should I be upset?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8617136587062387689?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8617136587062387689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8617136587062387689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8617136587062387689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8617136587062387689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/06/hypothetical-situation.html' title='Hypothetical situation?'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6934202557520669376</id><published>2011-06-03T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T02:52:43.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nothing in the world prepared me for your heart, your heart&lt;div&gt;Nothing in the world that I love more than your heart, your golden heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and every time i'm thinking of you from a distant shore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and all the time I sleep &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will have a reminder that I wore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a piece of you to keep &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will wear the wonder that you gave me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;your golden heart &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6934202557520669376?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6934202557520669376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6934202557520669376&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6934202557520669376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6934202557520669376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/06/nothing-in-world-prepared-me-for-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6200978474856488663</id><published>2011-05-17T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T18:09:29.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1984</title><content type='html'>If there was hope, it must lie in the proles; Until they become conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6200978474856488663?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6200978474856488663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6200978474856488663&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6200978474856488663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6200978474856488663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/05/1984.html' title='1984'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1743086512659450490</id><published>2011-05-03T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T11:20:41.600-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>A wild sheep chase</title><content type='html'>playing an instrument is a lot of fun, but in order for you to enjoy it you have to be good at it. Being good requires ear training, the problem is once your ear is well trained you become depressed of the sound of you playing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1743086512659450490?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1743086512659450490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1743086512659450490&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1743086512659450490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1743086512659450490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/05/wild-sheep-chase.html' title='A wild sheep chase'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1208149687722125425</id><published>2011-04-29T07:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T07:08:19.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gettin' old</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PTngTGfsZvI/TbrGQiFCa8I/AAAAAAAAAuw/HS1gkpxGMus/s1600/movie_ages.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PTngTGfsZvI/TbrGQiFCa8I/AAAAAAAAAuw/HS1gkpxGMus/s320/movie_ages.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601007073916775362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1208149687722125425?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1208149687722125425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1208149687722125425&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1208149687722125425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1208149687722125425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/04/gettin-old.html' title='Gettin&apos; old'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PTngTGfsZvI/TbrGQiFCa8I/AAAAAAAAAuw/HS1gkpxGMus/s72-c/movie_ages.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8521608030936372804</id><published>2011-04-26T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T16:42:10.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>like father like son</title><content type='html'>No matter how much we want otherwise or how hard we try, we always turn out to be a version of our parents somehow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8521608030936372804?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8521608030936372804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8521608030936372804&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8521608030936372804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8521608030936372804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/04/like-father-like-son.html' title='like father like son'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3179356352843769846</id><published>2011-04-25T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T16:23:46.147-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>No encore</title><content type='html'>today marked the last gig with the band i founded over seven years ago, it's been one hell of a ride and through that band my eyes got exposed to wonders and experiences i wouldn't have thought existed. Like everything else, life demands that you get up and move on, tonight was my calling and i answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping for a regular gig, just one of our usual nights into the rock music scene: a full house, a good set list of music, rocking out and having a good time. I should've known better that life doesn't work out this way. It was a terrible gig, the worst we've had in years! We were invisable to the crowd, our vocalist performed badly, drummer was too loud and i wasn't enjoying myself all through the night because of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played our most popular sound as last measurement, no cheering and no encore.&lt;br /&gt;We just packed up, got paid and went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now thinking about it i wonder if it was a fitting end. If this was the awsome night i was hoping for i would probably feel sad because i'm leaving this behind, maybe the irony that after a terrible night like this one it feels more like good redince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what do i know? I'm already half drunk while writing this post, nostalgia would probably omit such a horrible feeling as time passes by on me at the end of the world and there i would only hear the cheers of a raging audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now it's farewell, what a difficult thing this is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For everything you would ever love, there would always come a time in which you would have to leave it behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish i could've done it better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps: screw you khalid, tonight you were as selfish as you could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3179356352843769846?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3179356352843769846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3179356352843769846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3179356352843769846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3179356352843769846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/04/no-encore.html' title='No encore'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-689568546377400181</id><published>2011-04-02T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-02T17:30:45.812-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>letter to a teenage me</title><content type='html'>if i can move back in time i would really like to do one thing, i want to go visit the 14-16 year old me and tell him to lift his fat chin up because he's up for one hell of a joyride beyond his wildest expectations. I would probably give him a letter, which would read something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear 16 year old slash,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing you this letter because i know what you're thinking; i remeber how scared you were of how your life is going to turn out or if it would have meaning; i'm here to tell you that it would be all right and then some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would finish collage studying IT but you would realize that it's not the thing for you, it's going to aid greatly in your future career, but more on that in a little bit. During your time there you will meet a colorful cast of characters that would shape who you are and some of them would last a life time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are going to get facinated by rock music and it would be the genre you would stick to for years to come. You will pick up a guitar and start playing, in time you and your best friends will form the longest running best rock band jordan would know, your band would single handedly revive the rock scene in jordan after a hiatus, you will play in front of large audiences of cheering fans that would boast your ego and self confidence beyond what you ever knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will actually be good in a sport, for some wierd reason you would pick up basket ball, you would spend hours playing it and you would kick serious ass. Better yet, you will meet people that would become life long friends, and from their after you will share all your happy and sad times. They will be there for you and you for them. They are among the best people you'll ever meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time you're 19 you would've been a radio dj, where for the next six years you would be playing music on the air for millions of listeners, you will recieve small fame and fan mail and you would make great friends there as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the age of 21 you would fullfil a life long dream of visiting japan for the first time, by then you would've learned the language and would continue to do so for some time. You will travel the world, wear a suit and perform presentations about ur games infront of reps of every major gaming company you can think of. Most of whom you would come to know on personal basis - many would refer to you as 'that game guy from jordan'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in 2010 you will go and watch your favorite performer play live in istanbul and a month later,you will attend the final match of the world cup in a counrty far far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at 25 you would marry the woman of your dreams; she loves you just as much as you love her, she's smart, ambitious and beautiful; just the way you always imagined her: white, green eyes, short blonde hair and half arab half foriegn. She will make you happy and would teach you what it means to be a man. She will hug you to sleep evey single night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're 26 you've already worked in two gaming companies and ready to go to a third one, a japanese company this time. You would be well known in ur industry and being the pioneer the most experienced in ur profession in the middle east. You are going to be working on new installments of games you are playing now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now you are loved by your family, friends and co-workers. You are leading a successful life and own a nice house in a very lively area in the heart of amman. You are one lucky bastard and sometimes i envy you because you are going to go through all these amazing times. I wish i had a similar letter from the 46 year old me telling what's in stored for me. But in the mean time, 8race yourself because you're up for one hell of a ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way to go kid, way to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-689568546377400181?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/689568546377400181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=689568546377400181&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/689568546377400181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/689568546377400181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/04/letter-to-teenage-me.html' title='letter to a teenage me'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-346552046926236596</id><published>2011-03-15T08:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T08:48:22.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>if you have a good idea, keep it to yourself. However, if you make something out of it, share it with the world&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-346552046926236596?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/346552046926236596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=346552046926236596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/346552046926236596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/346552046926236596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/03/if-you-have-good-idea-keep-it-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-63990427970294267</id><published>2011-03-05T03:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T03:53:53.820-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><title type='text'>Inspirational Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="500" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TBSt8qCIBww" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't usually post Arabic music, but this is a special case; very well made the music and the video, enjoy :D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-63990427970294267?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/63990427970294267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=63990427970294267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/63990427970294267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/63990427970294267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/03/inspirational-song.html' title='Inspirational Song'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/TBSt8qCIBww/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2041541114737433103</id><published>2011-02-24T16:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T16:22:37.790-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The great pretender</title><content type='html'>Say a prayer for the pretender&lt;div&gt;Who started off so young and strong &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;only to surrender &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2041541114737433103?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2041541114737433103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2041541114737433103&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2041541114737433103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2041541114737433103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/02/great-pretender.html' title='The great pretender'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5620014125788769527</id><published>2011-02-22T01:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T02:27:06.331-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Baldness and Captain obvious</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I started losing my hair when I was 18 years old; lucky enough for me at the time it was really hip to be a skin head;  I shaved my hair and I continue to do so to this very day, the extent of the damage or how bald I am exactly is something I'm not fully aware of and I don't think I want to know. Fortunately enough, this particular hair style is the one that suits me best, which is great since I'm practically stuck with it for the rest of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This has been my life style for such a long time now that I have made peace with it, it doesn't bother me any more, on the contrary I make jokes about it most of the time. Needless to say back when I was young it was a pretty traumatizing event, it was school after all and kids can be ass-holes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GmhQqhWu_iQ/TWOM8u-YytI/AAAAAAAAAtY/yNQcN9EUJXY/s320/britney_spears_shaving-hair-bald.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576455738644548306" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Not as traumatizing as this i'm afraid &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The funny part is that i didn't really mind the ass-holes at the time, because they didn't have anything clever to say, the people that pissed me off the most were the ones that would come up to me as if they are going to share a secret no one knows; they would look at me in the most serious look in the world and whisper: "dude, I think you're going to be bald when you grow up!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;NO SHIT SHERLOCK!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are they just idiots? or are they so glad that they've reached that incredible conclusion through inhuman powers of deduction that they feel the need to share it or hell even publish their scientific findings? Think of it this way, when someone shares well known info that's like putting him/herself on a pedestal that they've reached that trivial knowledge and they're generous enough to share it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9udmPlvBz9c/TWONrsh44BI/AAAAAAAAAtg/GE5YKpQ74Xg/s320/CAPTAINOBVIOUS.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576456545441996818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;They can really get out of their way to share it too &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm saddened to think that they're actually proud of their meaningless accomplishment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5620014125788769527?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5620014125788769527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5620014125788769527&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5620014125788769527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5620014125788769527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/02/baldness-and-captain-obvious.html' title='Baldness and Captain obvious'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GmhQqhWu_iQ/TWOM8u-YytI/AAAAAAAAAtY/yNQcN9EUJXY/s72-c/britney_spears_shaving-hair-bald.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6883091966532305314</id><published>2011-02-08T01:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T01:51:45.878-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strawberry Fields Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TVESKCY2RfI/AAAAAAAAAtA/jOGOXHHr0N4/s1600/strawberry_fields.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TVESKCY2RfI/AAAAAAAAAtA/jOGOXHHr0N4/s320/strawberry_fields.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571254177683097074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;They were really nice at first, but after a while they become tiresome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6883091966532305314?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6883091966532305314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6883091966532305314&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6883091966532305314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6883091966532305314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/02/strawberry-fields-forever.html' title='Strawberry Fields Forever'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TVESKCY2RfI/AAAAAAAAAtA/jOGOXHHr0N4/s72-c/strawberry_fields.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1732151753479199699</id><published>2011-02-06T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T16:08:51.570-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Timeless Songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TU84B1iIoqI/AAAAAAAAAs4/9t9aNE2jLII/s1600/yusuf_islam_cat_stevens.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TU84B1iIoqI/AAAAAAAAAs4/9t9aNE2jLII/s320/yusuf_islam_cat_stevens.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570732868281868962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Definition of a timeless song: it's a song that would've become popular no matter on what time it would've been released. One such genius is Cat Stevens who wrote songs that were hits on his time and hits for other artists who covered them afterwards. He wrote "the first cut is the deepest" back in 1967 which later was covered and became a hit for four different artists: P.P. Arnold (1967), Keith Hampshire (1973), Rod Stewart (1977) and Sheryl Crow (2003). The reason I chose Cat Stevens in particular is that he also wrote "Wild World" in 1970 in turn been covered by many artists becoming hits of their own: Jimmy Cliff (1970), Maxi Priest (1988), Mr. Big (1993), John Waite(2004) and James Blunt(2007) and He also wrote Father and son (1970) which was later a hit for Johnny Cash (1974), Boyzone(1995) and Rod Stewart (2006).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1732151753479199699?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1732151753479199699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1732151753479199699&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1732151753479199699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1732151753479199699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/02/timeless-songs.html' title='Timeless Songs'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TU84B1iIoqI/AAAAAAAAAs4/9t9aNE2jLII/s72-c/yusuf_islam_cat_stevens.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-711546081881890937</id><published>2011-01-27T02:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T02:39:20.354-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Quick reality check!</title><content type='html'>Could I have reached the point of being naive or silly enough to garner praise and consider it as an adequate rather accurate description of my character hence falsely begin behaving on that base?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess that could be possible. It perfectly fits the symptoms of being overly condescendingly cocky without having enough ties to events and circumstances that are eminently taking place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shame. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-711546081881890937?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/711546081881890937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=711546081881890937&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/711546081881890937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/711546081881890937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/01/quick-reality-check.html' title='Quick reality check!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1472548840755815123</id><published>2011-01-25T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T00:04:12.423-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><title type='text'>Academy Awards Predictions</title><content type='html'>As it's becoming a ritual of this blog; the nominations came out for the academy awards this year and I have my own opinions about it - who i'm routing for so to speak - i will post major categories, who i'm routing for to win and which movies the academy would most likely vote for, once the ceremony is over, i will will update the post with the actual events and how close i was to the truth. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Picture:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Inception &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: The king's Speech&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Director:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: David Fincher for The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Darren Aronofsky for Black Swan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: The king's Speech&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Actor:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Colin Firth for The King's Speech &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favourite: Colin Firth for The King's Speech&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Colin Firth for The King's Speech&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Actress:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Natalie Portman for Black Swan  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Natalie Portman for Black Swan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Natalie Portman for Black Swan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Supporting Actor:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Geoffery Rush for The King's Speech &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Christian Bale for The Fighter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Christian Bale for The Fighter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Supporting Actress:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Helena Bonham carter for The King's Speech &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Amy Adams for The Fighter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Melissa Leo For The Fighter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Original Screenplay:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: David Seidler for The King's Speech &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Christopher Nolan for Inception&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: David Seidler for The King's Speech&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Adapted Screenplay:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Aaron Sorkin for The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Aaron Sorkin for The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Aaron Sorkin for The Social Network&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Animated Feature:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Toy Story 3 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Toy Story 3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Toy Story 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Original Score:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Trent Reznor for The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Hans Zimmer for Inception&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Trent Reznor for The Social Network&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Sound editing:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Richard King for Inception &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Richard King for Inception&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Richard King for Inception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Sound Mixing:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Ren Klyce and David Parker for The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Lora Hirschberg for Inception&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Lora Hirschberg for Inception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Art Direction:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Eve Stewart for The King's Speech &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Robert Stormberg for Alice In Wonderland&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Robert Stormberg for Alice In Wonderland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Cinematography:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Jeff Cronenweth for The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Wally Pfister for Inception&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Wally Pfister for Inception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Film Editing:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Angus wall for The Social Network &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Andrew Weisblum for Black Swan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Angus wall for The Social Network&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Costume Design:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Jenny Beavan for The King's Speech &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Colleen Atwood For Alice in Wonderland&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Colleen Atwood For Alice in Wonderland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Visual Effects:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Academy will vote for: Paul Franklin for Inception &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My personal favorite: Paul Franklin for Inception &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Who Actually won: Paul Franklin for Inception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Notes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- As much as i am a big fan of Inception and wish it the best, i find it baffling that Tron Legacy wasn't nominated for best visual effects category, it certainly deserves it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- The sound track of thereafter also wasn't nominated is also weird to me. all though I do agree with the academy to mostly snub the movie simply because it didn't live up to Clint's standards.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1472548840755815123?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1472548840755815123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1472548840755815123&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1472548840755815123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1472548840755815123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/01/academy-awards-predictions.html' title='Academy Awards Predictions'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3332666323081073355</id><published>2011-01-18T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T06:23:42.763-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Time to call it quits!</title><content type='html'>Time for some real challenge; for the first time in a decade, I'm trying to quite smoking! it's my second day so far and I'm disoriented to a point beyond belief. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder how long would it take me to completely detox, or if I could do it at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish me luck :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3332666323081073355?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3332666323081073355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3332666323081073355&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3332666323081073355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3332666323081073355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/01/time-to-call-it-quits.html' title='Time to call it quits!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1777915828049657298</id><published>2011-01-13T01:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T01:30:33.343-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>The Jordanian Verdict on Attempted Rape</title><content type='html'>Reading an article like &lt;a href="http://www.gerasanews.com/web/?c=141&amp;amp;a=38147"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt; is not really news; a girl comes home late at night, a bunch of guys try to rape her, some of the neighbours hear her scream for help, they call the police and the situation is contained; no one gets hurt, people get arrested. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What was interesting about this article however was the comments section on this article; most of the people who commented - and I'm not exaggerating if i said more than 80% - blamed the woman for coming late and for wearing 'indecent' clothing. In their point of view the attackers' actions are justified on the basis that she's a whore to begin with only having the input that she came back home after midnight and wearing revealing clothes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is not only sad, illogical but also despicable. For a society to reason and contemplate rape and find excuse for it is insane. Stating these arguments suggests that we - men - are animals that should be put on a leash; the mere sight of bare skin will cause us to go through a state of sexual berserk and would justify us attacking whoever the hell we feel like attacking because these are urges that we can't control, especially when provoked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can understand the fact that some people wouldn't agree on women's dress codes and/or behaviours depending on their backgrounds, believes and whatnot. But I imagined that rape is one of these things that we all agree on. I mean it shouldn't be 'righteous' under any circumstance, no?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then again, in a society that lives and breathes double standards, everything is possible. To all the people who commented or agreed with the people who commented that attempted rape is cool if the woman is asking for it I say: You are a Pig! Fuck you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder what would be the view if the world worked in a different way; consider this story, a group of guys rape a guy for wearing shorts at midnight. What the hell is he doing wearing shorts or walking after midnight anyway?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sick fucks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1777915828049657298?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1777915828049657298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1777915828049657298&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1777915828049657298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1777915828049657298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/01/jordanian-verdict-on-attempted-rape.html' title='The Jordanian Verdict on Attempted Rape'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8480479442625794532</id><published>2011-01-08T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T14:19:33.490-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><title type='text'>Best Movies Of 2010</title><content type='html'>Like every year, here's the list of movies you should watch for this award season; academy awards nominations are to be announced on the 25th of this month; fingers crossed for inception, movies are:&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Inception&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Black Swan &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Social Network &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Fighter&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;True Grit&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The king's Speech &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Edge (Russia)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Alice in wonderland&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The kids are alright &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;127 hours&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Blue Valentine &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rabbit Hole &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am love (Italy)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Winter's Bone&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Le Concert (France)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Frankie and Alice&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Sweden)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Love and other drugs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Casino Jack &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Town&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Biutiful (Mexico)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In a Better World (Denmark)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tron Legacy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Despicable Me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Another Year&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Made in Degenham &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shutter Island&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brighton Rock &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Exit Through the gift shop&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get Low&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The American&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good list this year! personally routing for inception to win EVERYTHING XD &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;can't wait; oscar predictions once the nominations are out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8480479442625794532?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8480479442625794532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8480479442625794532&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8480479442625794532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8480479442625794532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/01/best-movies-of-2010.html' title='Best Movies Of 2010'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8020301942752110060</id><published>2011-01-03T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T14:33:08.285-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Cynophobia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Call me chicken, but dogs scare the living crap out of me; and for no particular reason either. People see dogs as cute, loyal and cuddly while I see them as filthy, droopy and can eat my brains out. There's no reason behind this crazy fear that lies down in the lower layers of my childhood. I wasn't bitten or chased by a dog or anything, my earliest memory is that my grandparents had neighbors who had a wolf and it used to bark at me every time I passed in front of their house, but that's it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My friend had a small Chiwawa once, and that thing was so miserably small and stupid that it was tied to a bottle of water so it can't move. and every single time I went to visit that small creature turned hulk and started barking it's throat off intimidating me miserably. Forgive me but I was so relieved when it finally died.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TSJMxMmsqgI/AAAAAAAAAsE/4CcZ62087tc/s320/chiwawa02.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 210px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558089298209450498" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Last photo taken of the cute one &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forgetting the fact that dogs ruined my honeymoon - apparently the Greek are dog loving people - on my way to work (I walk) every day some neighbors decided that having a bear sized Doberman was cool, they also tend to forget their gate open sometimes because hey: every neighborhood is safe if you have a Goliath guarding your door step. Because of this not so friendly critter, my daily walk to the office is now a horrible journey. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait till this one dies too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8020301942752110060?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8020301942752110060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8020301942752110060&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8020301942752110060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8020301942752110060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2011/01/cynophobia.html' title='Cynophobia'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TSJMxMmsqgI/AAAAAAAAAsE/4CcZ62087tc/s72-c/chiwawa02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2264695326323102595</id><published>2010-12-29T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T09:20:46.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Retro Gamer: Video Games Are Good For You!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://fawzi-games.blogspot.com/2010/12/video-games-are-good-for-you.html?spref=bl"&gt;Retro Gamer: Video Games Are Good For You!&lt;/a&gt;: "Video games have always been hailed as a threat to children and adults all the same; many assume that video games induce anti social behavi..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2264695326323102595?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fawzi-games.blogspot.com/2010/12/video-games-are-good-for-you.html?spref=bl' title='Retro Gamer: Video Games Are Good For You!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2264695326323102595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2264695326323102595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2264695326323102595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2264695326323102595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/12/retro-gamer-video-games-are-good-for.html' title='Retro Gamer: Video Games Are Good For You!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5289551903410477930</id><published>2010-12-24T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-26T13:02:33.425-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas Everyone</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mK9tkqs0Obg?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mK9tkqs0Obg?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A band that formed in 1982, The pogues have an interesting story; Front man, Shane MacGowan never thought of himself as someone who's particularly attractive and didn't really like to be in the spotlight; and as the band he formed went big, he turned to alcohol to try to relax from facing the crowds and journalists. He ended up being an addict to many substances over the course of the years and gotten even uglier ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The band eventually disbanded in 1996, MacGowan was submitted to rehab after his friend singer/song writer Sinnead O'Connor called the police on him and forced him to get help. He came out and the band resumed touring in small scale starting 2001. However, they're never as big again. Great song though, their biggest hit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5289551903410477930?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5289551903410477930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5289551903410477930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5289551903410477930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5289551903410477930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/12/merry-christmas-everyone.html' title='Merry Christmas Everyone'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2606244119083273871</id><published>2010-12-14T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T14:30:02.275-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>My Happy Place</title><content type='html'>An escape from reality if you may, sometimes I just close my eyes and let my mind drift, I hear the clashing waves, I smell the ocean, I feel a soft breeze that soothes the warmth of the air surrounding me. I see white sand, soft sand, in which I watch my feet sink in. I hear a Latin song I haven't heard since 96, I feel peace. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see no one, I hear no one other than the band playing and the sound of moving water. A steady rhythm of the ocean dancing to the tunes of rumba. No one in sight, I don't want to see anyone, I don't desire anything, I feel nothing, I think of nothing ... I am nothing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No one wants anything of me as I don't want anything of anyone. Loathing in solitude, slightly nodding my head sometimes to the music. The song never ends, the day never ends, nothing ever changes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel peace. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2606244119083273871?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2606244119083273871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2606244119083273871&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2606244119083273871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2606244119083273871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-happy-place.html' title='My Happy Place'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2660837431604539092</id><published>2010-11-27T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T15:31:38.888-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Little Boxes</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed how your life is broken down to small chunks of time frames? no? allow to me to elaborate. We spend most of our lives waiting for something to happen for us to proceed. For example, you had to go through elementary school to go to high school, you had to go through high school to get to collage, you had to finish collage to start working, now you have to wait till the end of the month to get your paycheck; your paycheck will pay the rent, an installment for your car, and maybe buy you something else. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with every month you wait the pay check comes with new promises, save up money, get married, wait another month, get the paycheck, spend it on spoiling your wife, pay check comes, spend it on your kids now, pay check comes, kids school tuition, pay check comes, kids high school tuition, pay check comes, kids collage fund, pay check comes, help kids get married, retirement pay check comes, wait for kids to come for christmass. Do you see where i'm going with this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for you to advance through the cycle of life, the most important factor - and perhaps you noticed it - is money ... then time. For you to obtain that amount of money you have to give something in return ... equal trade ... for you to advance in life you have to give away half of it to someone else; you have to give the day time to your boss for you to earn your paycheck, you have to give your attention to someone else during the rest of the time your awake, you have to give out 8 hours a day to sleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do simple mathmatics, out of 24 hours a day, 9 hours you spend at work, 1 hour for transportation in and out of work, 8 hours of sleep that amounts to a total of 18 hours. Which leaves you with exactly 4 hours out of 24. that is exactly 84% of your day. multiply it with the number of days you're going to live, you get the picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fact is, you are alive exactly 16% of your life. The rest of it, you're a zombie trying to advance through life. The real question is however, do you really need to? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is the true measurement of living?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;is it doing something you love? being with someone you love? working? sleeping? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you probably think that none of the above on it's own would be a good answer ... probably all of those combined wouldn't be a good enough answer for the meaning of life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you're probably right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I'm saying is there has to be more to life than spending it waiting. One chunk at a time, one box at a time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There has to be a way where I'd give 16% away, and at least get to keep my 84. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's my fucking life god damn it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2660837431604539092?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2660837431604539092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2660837431604539092&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2660837431604539092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2660837431604539092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/11/little-boxes.html' title='Little Boxes'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3357745242653947293</id><published>2010-11-20T00:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T01:07:10.315-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The falling leaves</title><content type='html'>There's a traditional dish in which vine leaves are stuffed with rice and meat cooked with oil or tomato sauce and served, it's called - and you guessed it - stuffed vine leaves. My grandmother used to make the best there is, for some weird reason, there was something in the way she made it that transformed them into something spectacular, and while she made them, it was my all time favorite dish. A fact that used to drive my mother crazy, trying to create the same thing at home, she went to my grandma's place and sat with her to learn how to make them, many many times, but it never turned out quite the same. There was always something missing - even though the recipe was flawless - it never had that unique taste. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A couple of days ago was the first day of Eid, and we went to my grandpa's place, a tradition that we have carried out for the past 25 years. On that day, grandma always made that dish knowing how crazy I am about it. But with her aging she hasn't really been able to move for the past decade, and in the last five years, she has finally started to lose it - Alzheimer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My ant cooked that day, and as usual there was stuffed vine leaves on the table among other things. It was good, but again, didn't have that taste. I watched my grandma sitting there talking to my father thinking that he was her son, and asking her daughters who i was. I saw the struggle in her eyes to remember names, names she was almost certain she knew but never seem to get a hold of. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her heart is still in the right place, unlike other older people with Alzheimer she is not aggressive, she rather reminisce about the good times, she recalls some memories of me and attribute them to someone else, but sometimes to their respective owner. Her state of confusion however, never altered the beaming love that she shines around her. The unconditional kind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went through my grandparents bed room after the meal to smoke a cigarette on the balcony. the bed room has been the same for as long as i remember; my grandpa's 50 year old radio, the brown sheets and the smell of old people. Standing on the porch it came to me that I would never taste those stuffed vine leaves again. The funny thing is that i could almost taste them every time i think of them, like they're virtually stamped in my brain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's funny how easy it is to make peace with things, or rather how easy it is to reflect and change lables of things to help in adabting to sad events. Like stuffed vine leaves are no longer my favourite dish, alzhimer is cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And like I can live with the fact of me never eating that dish again but remember it clearly, it's how i view my grandmother, no matter what she says. She still has that personality stamped in my brain as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3357745242653947293?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3357745242653947293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3357745242653947293&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3357745242653947293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3357745242653947293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/11/falling-leaves.html' title='The falling leaves'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5182389847897527299</id><published>2010-11-16T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T00:24:27.642-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Look Back in Anger</title><content type='html'>Slip inside the eye of your mind &lt;div&gt;Don't you know you might find &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A better place to play &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You said that you'd never been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But all the things that you've seen &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will slowly fade away &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5182389847897527299?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5182389847897527299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5182389847897527299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5182389847897527299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5182389847897527299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/11/dont-look-back-in-anger.html' title='Don&apos;t Look Back in Anger'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8092804553915228117</id><published>2010-10-30T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T15:34:12.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't heard a piece of decent music in years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8092804553915228117?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8092804553915228117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8092804553915228117&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8092804553915228117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8092804553915228117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-havent-heard-piece-of-decent-music-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6175588321306930619</id><published>2010-10-30T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T15:33:46.619-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Patterns</title><content type='html'>Spotting patterns is perhaps the most distinctive feature that human beings have come to obtain. It's the ability to receive a set parameters and distinguish them as different yet alike, mostly some kind of math is involved. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is all about unlocking these patterns, like a mathematician solving a problem, recognizing a pattern is a joy of life, it's discovery, it's unlocking a new meaning ... perhaps it's a step on the right way to understanding the meaning of life each and everyone of us spend a life time trying to figure out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What if you reach a point that there are no more patterns for you to recognize? what if life doesn't surprise you anymore and things move in tedious predictable notions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doesn't really mean that you know everything in life, but what i'm saying is that the things that you don't know don't surprise you ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does this make any sense? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6175588321306930619?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6175588321306930619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6175588321306930619&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6175588321306930619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6175588321306930619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/patterns.html' title='Patterns'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6583487465065594806</id><published>2010-10-25T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T10:38:08.793-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>The process of self inspection</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;No, i'm not referring to breast cancer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Everyone has to go through it every single day for them to be good people, productive workers or even decent human beings. It's the process of analyzing one's own actions/decisions knowing their motive and prospected results. &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only way you'd know that something needs fixing is acknowledging that something is wrong with it. The idea behind self inspection is that you review were you went wrong through out the course of the day in whatever gesture you made, especially the ones you know that had a negative effect on you or someone else, analyzing why you made that action or decision, and in case a none convincing reasoning surfaced you then have to acknowledge that a mistake has been made and decide what you are going to do about it ... not specifically for the case at hand but for similar cases in the future. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone makes mistakes, that's a given ... it's takes true power to admit a mistake when it happens, admitting one's fault is perhaps a virtue that the greatest of men couldn't muster. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;omg I'm starting to sound like the bible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that's not the point. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think of it this way, if there weren't audit firms, then the world would be in chaos, because simply, no one would give a fuck about giving correct financial statements therefore fraud becomes the norm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TMXATKUNAKI/AAAAAAAAAp4/u-NlJbwgvnA/s320/AuditEffectiveness.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532039152713662626" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The point is, self inspection is self improvement; becoming 'good' while debatable in definition is the most logical way of obtaining what you really want from life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6583487465065594806?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6583487465065594806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6583487465065594806&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6583487465065594806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6583487465065594806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/process-of-self-inspection.html' title='The process of self inspection'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TMXATKUNAKI/AAAAAAAAAp4/u-NlJbwgvnA/s72-c/AuditEffectiveness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1705099606838225938</id><published>2010-10-20T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T16:08:45.548-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Women are as horny as men</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;When it comes to the topic of sex drive, everyone knows the stereotypes: Men are shameless swine who will nail anything with a pulse, and women are only interested in lovemaking that satisfies them on an emotional level.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think back on your adolescence, and it seems self-evident, doesn't it? Boys are so sex-driven that they literally have to hide their protruding penises with baggy jeans and Trapper Keepers. Girls rarely have that problem. And as adults, we all know that it's mostly men, not women, populating the porn-viewing public . The Kinsey Institute &lt;a href="http://www.iub.edu/~kinsey/resources/FAQ.html#internet"&gt;even says so&lt;/a&gt;. Obviously, men are much more interested in sex. Case closed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When actually, Women are probably just as horny as men--they just don't want you to know it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://researchnews.osu.edu/archive/sexsurv.htm"&gt;A recent study&lt;/a&gt; asked a large group of test subjects about their sexual behavior but put some clever controls in place. One group of respondents gave their answers while connected to a polygraph machine, and a second group was put in a with a researcher and told that their answers would be monitored. A control group was told their answers would remain completely anonymous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It turns out that when women were faced with the chance of someone seeing their answers (the group with the researcher in the room) they all suddenly became contestants in a Miss Chastity pageant, reporting only half the number of sexual partners that the group connected to the lie detector claimed. But the women connected to the polygraph actually reported more sexual partners than the men in the same control group.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Experts interpreted this as women feeling "pressure to adhere to sex role expectations that indicate (they) should be more relationship-oriented and should avoid being seen as promiscuous." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Original Article:http://www.cracked.com/article_18760_6-things-everyone-knows-about-women-that-arent-true.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Bottom line is, in a male dominated society, women act the way they're expected to act, not the way they actually are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1705099606838225938?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1705099606838225938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1705099606838225938&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1705099606838225938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1705099606838225938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/women-are-as-horny-as-men.html' title='Women are as horny as men'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8492851692679204906</id><published>2010-10-14T05:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T05:49:30.546-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Nose Bleed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TLb6CUBYPRI/AAAAAAAAApw/Q7IV_CUVTIc/s1600/slave_leia_pillow_fight1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 311px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TLb6CUBYPRI/AAAAAAAAApw/Q7IV_CUVTIc/s320/slave_leia_pillow_fight1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527880510285036818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who wouldn't have a nose bleed at a sight of a bunch of women dressed as princess Leia in golden bikinis having a pillow fight?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8492851692679204906?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8492851692679204906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8492851692679204906&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8492851692679204906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8492851692679204906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/nose-bleed.html' title='Nose Bleed'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TLb6CUBYPRI/AAAAAAAAApw/Q7IV_CUVTIc/s72-c/slave_leia_pillow_fight1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3319367810329001965</id><published>2010-10-10T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T14:32:35.237-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>A change in scenery</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TLIw2VEndsI/AAAAAAAAApo/rVzds8RD1nQ/s1600/GreatView_Andersen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TLIw2VEndsI/AAAAAAAAApo/rVzds8RD1nQ/s320/GreatView_Andersen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526533402664597186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is no view on earth that wouldn't become tedious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3319367810329001965?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3319367810329001965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3319367810329001965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3319367810329001965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3319367810329001965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/change-in-scenery.html' title='A change in scenery'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TLIw2VEndsI/AAAAAAAAApo/rVzds8RD1nQ/s72-c/GreatView_Andersen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4433749988942619233</id><published>2010-10-09T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T14:47:14.495-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Social Standards</title><content type='html'>People are generally confused nowadays, they're too focused on getting the best out of life while they can that they're missing out on most of it. They lack proper judgement largely due to the availability of other options. with so many opportunity out there, why settle for what's currently there when there's always a chance to explore, relax, have fun and maybe look for something else? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plus there's the standards set by our modern society of what's cool and what's not. what's the making of a bad ass and what isn't. and how your life should be lived to the maximum and how you are currently wasting your time. for example, it's generally cooler to have as much sexual relationships as possible before 'settling down' for good, obviously since there's a social standard for an age when that settling down time is appropriate ... You have all the time in the world to screw around, venture with other people's feelings and your own so that when the time comes you'd be prepared to initiate that kind of commitment. Fact is, you never know if you ever will, and you most probably - given the notion that you lack better judgement to begin with as mentioned earlier - will fail. giving room for regret for not taking chances that were available earlier on in your pursuits. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are social standards for everything, before you even start, society has laid out the rules on how to live your life and how to be happy; how to assess yourself as being happy, successful, beautiful ...etc. Everything has rules that don't have base, you don't really have to be rich to be successful, you don't really have to be married at a certain age to be normal, and you don't really have to have small eyebrows to be good looking. It's just what everyone else told you that you took for granted as facts! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Social standards are really double standards. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having options isn't bad, making the best of it however requires not only brains, but a sense of self-worth, esteem and vision for them to be truly exploited. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't let me hold you back, by all means go out on your countless wild goose chases. it might strike gold for you at one point, at which you could finally think back and regret every foolish decision you've ever made. Hell, most probably you'd be able to rationalize them, or simply blame them on making them while being 'too young'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4433749988942619233?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4433749988942619233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4433749988942619233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4433749988942619233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4433749988942619233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/social-standards.html' title='Social Standards'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2597099504097919313</id><published>2010-10-04T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T02:33:10.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Radical Change</title><content type='html'>How come every time I promise myself a radical development in life style I do absolutely nothing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2597099504097919313?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2597099504097919313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2597099504097919313&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2597099504097919313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2597099504097919313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/10/radical-change.html' title='Radical Change'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5132487853287193360</id><published>2010-09-08T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T23:47:33.715-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Random Thoughts #9</title><content type='html'>- Life is all about mastering the art of doing things you hate to do the things you love. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Never have an image of what you want in your head, chances are the reality would take different turns, your previous expectations would probably ruin any joy you would get with the events that would actually take place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Rarely would you get the things you want when you want them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5132487853287193360?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5132487853287193360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5132487853287193360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5132487853287193360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5132487853287193360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/09/random-thoughts-9.html' title='Random Thoughts #9'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-7852379165847899861</id><published>2010-09-07T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T03:06:47.645-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Announcements'/><title type='text'>Retro Gamer</title><content type='html'>I've recently started out a new blog; in which i can write about topics that would bore most people and probably interest few, but hell, it's what i always wanted to do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fawzi-games.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://fawzi-games.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a blog in which i intend to talk as much as I want about what I know best: Games, My career, detailed specific gaming terms that i wouldn't have to care to explain, discuss social aspects of gaming, and how society looks at us and we look back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm basically writing what I wish someone wrote for me as I was growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-7852379165847899861?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/7852379165847899861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=7852379165847899861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7852379165847899861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7852379165847899861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/09/retro-gamer.html' title='Retro Gamer'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6295148009819692737</id><published>2010-08-22T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T01:19:49.012-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Heat wave</title><content type='html'>They say that the evolution of a certain nation depends heavily on it's climate; The colder the weather is the more the people are driven to create and invent since the cold rushes the blood through their veins making them 'think' faster. Subsequently, the hotter the weather get the more 'lazy' the people become and they are less likely to produce/create however they are probably more likely to reproduce given the fact that they're wearing as little clothes as possible to begin with. Relying on that theory, it becomes apparent that Europe is the most developed and the area from which all the discoveries and inventions emerged, whereas Africa becomes the least developed and the least to contribute to human progress. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to dismiss this theory as juvenile, but as we were suffering from a heat wave in the last couple of days, I started to monitor my own actions, and how greatly affected they are by the hot weather. I was sleeping longer hours, cancelled all the things that I should do in favour of staying on the couch, became strangely irritable and practically annoyed for no particular reason. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then it all made sense, or did it? I'm too bothered to think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hell, I heard 20 people died in Moscow because it's almost forty degrees there for the first time ever, people started jumping into fountains just to cool off; take off their clothes in the middle of the street. Obviously the heat drove them crazy; their winter gets to -20 and they're cool with it (pun intended). Heat on the other hand apparently has the worst effect on people. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6295148009819692737?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6295148009819692737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6295148009819692737&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6295148009819692737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6295148009819692737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/08/heat-wave.html' title='Heat wave'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-7984728544260708903</id><published>2010-08-18T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T05:35:03.978-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Not to be</title><content type='html'>Some people are stupid, Some people are uninteresting, most people are a combination of both; I find myself being able to tolerate stupidity more than I can tolerate a person being not interesting. I mean when you're stupid you probably can't do anything about it, that's your capabilities you're doomed with it for life, same as having a big nose, doesn't really repulse me and I don't really mind it, but it doesn't really attract me either. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But being Uninteresting has no excuse! I'm not asking you to share my interests, I'm not asking you to be funny, I'm merely asking you to actually 'like' doing something? that sounds easy enough, doesn't it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am bewildered by the number of people I meet recently who have absolutely no interest in anything whatsoever; Do you like this ? not really, Do you like that? not especially, What do you fucking like? nothing really. How can you expect a person that is so detached from anything remotely fun for him to provide you with interesting conversation or some sort of insightful information? You can't? exactly ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People who have no impact on their own lives, on the lives of the people they 'not-especially-love' or on the lives of people they meet really amaze me! I can not comprehend what purpose have they found for their own existence, how can they go own being meaningless day in day out? Are they happy that they don't matter the slightest? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-7984728544260708903?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/7984728544260708903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=7984728544260708903&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7984728544260708903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7984728544260708903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/08/not-to-be.html' title='Not to be'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-425183986206903437</id><published>2010-08-05T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T07:12:20.335-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Announcements'/><title type='text'>خطبة الجمعة</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TFrGnf-0kRI/AAAAAAAAAog/z_HY999IaPo/s1600/elvish_ring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TFrGnf-0kRI/AAAAAAAAAog/z_HY999IaPo/s320/elvish_ring.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501928276688670994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One ring to bring them all and in engagement bind them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-425183986206903437?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/425183986206903437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=425183986206903437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/425183986206903437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/425183986206903437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html' title='خطبة الجمعة'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TFrGnf-0kRI/AAAAAAAAAog/z_HY999IaPo/s72-c/elvish_ring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5358939594749936791</id><published>2010-08-02T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T14:49:40.855-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>My Old Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TFc9TtC2fyI/AAAAAAAAAoY/0q-bE03D-xM/s1600/hands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TFc9TtC2fyI/AAAAAAAAAoY/0q-bE03D-xM/s320/hands.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500932878574714658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I look at my dad nowadays and there's one thing I know for sure; this isn't the same man that raised me up as a child. Sure he probably looks a bit older than I'd remember him, gained some weight and all, but there's something missing. The years have really gotten the best of him. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a man who once believed in something to the very core and then watched it crumble to the ground right in front of him, the blow was so hard that he seems to have lost his ways, and have been trembling to find them again, he looked under each and every rock, he wanted to find the belief that will once again bring him his message if you may, the thing that keeps him going forward. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Years went by and so did his friends, either dead or busy with their own lives; the death of his brother and best friend especially that synchronized in the same year escalated the chain of events even further, he responded by sinking into the abyss. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has let health issues get the best of him, frightened him, shook him, made question his mortality and therefore his existence even more. And the more he looked, the more he hated what he found. He plays contempt, he acts brave only to hide that he has given up... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He just lost the lust for life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to always go to him to learn, because he always had something to teach or preach about. He used to be playful, joke around all the time, and get mad all of a sudden ... those mood swings while confusing gave our home life, my dad was always up to something and we were all on our toes in anticipation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I watch my dad now sit on the couch for hours as he gazes into nothingness. occasionally he looks up and finds us each on his own way, and I guess that brings him down even more. He has been distant for such a long time, he doesn't know how to come back to reality - to us - anymore. As he tries to force himself for those short periods of time that he's here with us, it doesn't really work, he gives up and returns to his solitude. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He walks different, talks about pretty much everything rather than the thing that matters most, what he is feeling. He never admitted this to anyone, nor that he ever will. He is stubborn that way. I wish he'd let it out to someone, anyone; for I fear that it actually might help him let out some steam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss the walks that we used to take, I miss how he used to amaze me with his basketball skills, and I miss how he used to tell us how the world is a wonderful place for us to see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I look at him and he's not there although he's sitting right next to me; he looks at me, but I see that the spark in his eyes are long gone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My father's eyes ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eyes of discomforting solitude.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5358939594749936791?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5358939594749936791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5358939594749936791&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5358939594749936791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5358939594749936791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-old-man.html' title='My Old Man'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TFc9TtC2fyI/AAAAAAAAAoY/0q-bE03D-xM/s72-c/hands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-959781623600525893</id><published>2010-07-30T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T14:50:57.347-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Play to Win</title><content type='html'>Say what you want, but nothing feels as good as winning! A lot might say that you play to have fun, but there's no fun in losing and I sure as hell have fun when I'm winning. It's only when you're really good at something that you'd feel the need to win, otherwise, it doesn't really matter. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love the competitiveness in you lads and it's great to have you back :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-959781623600525893?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/959781623600525893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=959781623600525893&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/959781623600525893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/959781623600525893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/07/play-to-win.html' title='Play to Win'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3143282472978978161</id><published>2010-07-22T06:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T06:37:34.000-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><title type='text'>You're doing it wrong part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TEhJhCveumI/AAAAAAAAAoA/w9NJ-DkSISk/s1600/priorities.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TEhJhCveumI/AAAAAAAAAoA/w9NJ-DkSISk/s320/priorities.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496724177226218082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3143282472978978161?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3143282472978978161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3143282472978978161&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3143282472978978161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3143282472978978161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/07/youre-doing-it-wrong-part-2.html' title='You&apos;re doing it wrong part 2'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TEhJhCveumI/AAAAAAAAAoA/w9NJ-DkSISk/s72-c/priorities.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3621999935725335519</id><published>2010-07-20T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T14:26:06.742-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Progress</title><content type='html'>The Monkey can't jump no more, The Hatter is sane, The Architect has finally found the optimum space, The Scientist still dwells into obscurity, The Athlete has resettled, The Philosopher is lost, The Local doesn't belong, The Musicians are banished, The Investor is bankrupt, The Drunk is sober, The Vain is miserable, The Spaniard is home sick, The Dreamer is awake, The Sculpture is still carving the rock, The Ambitious is achieving and the Chef is cooking. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The young are maturing, each in their own way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3621999935725335519?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3621999935725335519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3621999935725335519&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3621999935725335519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3621999935725335519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/07/progress.html' title='Progress'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6268443468909034278</id><published>2010-07-19T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T07:08:10.389-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><title type='text'>Miami Heat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TERb5oy1vxI/AAAAAAAAAnw/ZQ03UmaqvoI/s1600/bosh_james_wade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TERb5oy1vxI/AAAAAAAAAnw/ZQ03UmaqvoI/s320/bosh_james_wade.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495618491060174610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's just be clear on one thing and get it out of the way before the 2011 NBA season starts! I've always been a Heat fan! even before they won the 2003 NBA Championship, i gotta admit when Wade and Shaq first hooked up I was more than just excited. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm Saying this to clarify that I'm not a glory hunter, I do not support a team because now they have an all star team, and because they have a very good shot of winning the championship this year. I still hate Lebron James but welcome the points he'll add to the heat's score. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, please do not give me a hard time if they lost a game or two, they might win and they might lose just like any other team that I will be cheering for!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still, the three of those guys playing the same team is just fucking awesome! probably won't have as good team work as the Celtic's all star cast but still I hope they could work out their ego and give us one hell of a show. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Really looking forward for this season; Go Wade! Go Heat! XD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6268443468909034278?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6268443468909034278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6268443468909034278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6268443468909034278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6268443468909034278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/07/miami-heat.html' title='Miami Heat'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TERb5oy1vxI/AAAAAAAAAnw/ZQ03UmaqvoI/s72-c/bosh_james_wade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5045080886953816728</id><published>2010-07-18T02:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T07:12:27.815-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Understanding Annoying Internet Commenters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Under every video on YouTube, and under every post on Facebook, and under every story on Digg or even right here on Blogger, there is a mini-culture that forms down in the comment section. The hit-and-run nature of the comments means it's fertile ground for some really annoying personalities to thrive. Here's a list of characters you're most likely to encounter, and who you'd really wish you hadn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TELV6grIctI/AAAAAAAAAno/sGvMVyr69rE/s320/flamewars.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495189696525398738" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 - The Preacher: Never misses an opportunity to turn the topic into a religious debate; extremely insecure about their own beliefs, usually a vicious attacker, calls for hell fire to fall upon those who disagree with him/her, prefer to write long comments that are longer than the video/article itself. Most people's reaction would be TLDR (Too Long Didn't Read). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 - The Trivia Master/ The Scientist: No amount of information presented in a post is ever enough for the scientist; no matter how hard you think you have covered an issue, the scientist will work all night digging up information you missed and present it to other commenters, not for the greater good, but just to fuck with you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 - The Philosopher: Finds a deeper meaning in everything. You can post about your classroom's trip to the beach and you'd still find him commenting about how the ocean is deep and carries the notion of the great ancestors who died in the forests of wisdom. Usually uses lots of big words that no one understands. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 - The librarian: Never comments in his/her own words but use a quote instead. There is never a comment by the librarian without double quotations on both ends of the sentence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 - The Hater: Hates the website but visits regularly anyway; typical comment would be: "Yet another unfunny post. I hope you're not getting paid for this."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6 - The Comedian: Always trying to outsmart the author, doing the best they can to show the whole world that: HEY!-I'm funny too! usually browses the comments section entirely looking for better jokes so that they'd remove the original comment and find something that's even FUNNIER! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7 - The Sceptic: Doesn't believe anything they see is true, believe highly in conspiracy theories and that the moon landing was all just a big hoax. Everything is fake for them, every image is photoshopped and every boob is filled with silicon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8 - The Great Defender: The great defender is the closest thing we have to modern day super hero; they come in the middle of a flame war and support the innocent, rescue the damsel in distress and strike upon the wicked. They hold the moral code high and are disgusted by vile language, they will do whatever they can to restore world peace. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9 - The Assassin: The assassin lurks in the darkness and waits till the comments section is heated up to a point that his intervention is needed, he moves quick and throws one word, 2 word comment max, that's enough to get a point and not enough for a reply, bullets usually used: Gay!, FAG!, BORING! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10 - The Stalker: A creepy person that leaves a comment once in a blue moon, but that comment is so disturbing that it makes you read it multiple times trying to figure out who that person might be. He knows who you are, he watches your every step, and he lets you know it, every time you think he's gone. Sample comment would be: "Anonymous: Do you think I'll ever forget what you've done?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11 - The wanderer: he is a person that has missed the point entirely, has nothing to contribute but couldn't stand the thought of passing up an opportunity to type words on the Internet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12 - The Billboard: Started a blog recently, or has started to think of their blog/website/channel seriously and are determined to spread the word, you'll find their comments on every single post on every single website around. Constantly advertising themselves instead of an actual contribution to the post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13 - The Spell Checker: Will correct every spelling mistake you've ever made in your life. plus the usual free lesson about the difference between your and you're. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5045080886953816728?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5045080886953816728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5045080886953816728&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5045080886953816728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5045080886953816728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/07/understanding-annoying-internet.html' title='Understanding Annoying Internet Commenters'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TELV6grIctI/AAAAAAAAAno/sGvMVyr69rE/s72-c/flamewars.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2588452506927614720</id><published>2010-07-04T01:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T07:14:15.284-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>World Cup 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TDBP7pXMORI/AAAAAAAAAnI/DpWL1b9uKNQ/s1600/Green-boots-is-so-eco-friendly-of-you-Messi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489975831898634514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TDBP7pXMORI/AAAAAAAAAnI/DpWL1b9uKNQ/s320/Green-boots-is-so-eco-friendly-of-you-Messi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Messi disapointed millions last night while Maradona on the contrary proved every one right. It was a sad day for Argentina. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ghana's match tought us two important lessons: life ain't fair and you only get one shot, one opportunity, if you missed it, you will never have it again no matter how hard you try. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sometimes occasions present themselves for you to find out who your real friends are; it's the time of need and true friends step up, some of them without you asking. others will provide you with lame excuses, of how they really want to be there, but not really. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nothing makes victory more enjoyable like a sore loser! 5awa! o iza mish 5awa ma bidna eyyaha! xD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- This time next week, hopefully i would be in south africa watching the final game of the world cup 2010! XD &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2588452506927614720?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2588452506927614720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2588452506927614720&amp;isPopup=true' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2588452506927614720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2588452506927614720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/07/world-cup-2010.html' title='World Cup 2010'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/TDBP7pXMORI/AAAAAAAAAnI/DpWL1b9uKNQ/s72-c/Green-boots-is-so-eco-friendly-of-you-Messi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3959390091749536410</id><published>2010-06-23T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T07:05:24.028-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Random Thoughts #8</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;- Throughout the course of this year I have learned to accept that during our life time a lot of things would happen, some are good some are bad, and some we have to live with. I have learned that many of us will get very depressed in our 20s, and some of us will stay that way the rest of their lives. Over the years your garage band will break up, your career dream will fall through, a girl will break your heart, you'll be unhappy with your body, you'll lose your parents, your favorite pet will die, you will endure at least one very terrible injury that requires hospitalization and breaks new boundaries for what kind of pain you thought was possible. I have learned to accept that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I have also learned that in some point of your life you can make something worthwhile of your career, you'll fall in love with someone, you will meet interesting people, you might reach a point that you're satisfied with your body and one day might reach peace of mind. I have learned to look forward to that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I have learned that there are people with such low self esteem, almost no moral backdrop, and will stop at nothing to make themselves good by bringing me down; I have practised what I've always known, giving them their worth - which is nothing - will only make them suffer more, and make you stronger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- During the course of this year I have seen myself in someone else, or at least a part of me that had died, I've seen it in that person and felt sorry for it; felt that it was a weakness that had to go, and glad it did. May it never come back, funny thing though, probably no one even noticed it was gone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I have learned that money really is meaningless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Throughout the course of this year, I have learned that you don't necessarily need to gain anything from a person in order for you to cherish them. The equivalent trade rule is faulty or may have hidden motives I am yet to discover. Not sure if I want to though. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I have learned that taking more spontaneous decisions ain't that bad; I took an ill fated decision to go to Turkey and watch Eric Clapton - my guitar idol - playing live in Istanbul in a time when i needed to save up. It's by far one of the best decisions I've ever made, it helped me put a lot of things into perspective, not to mention allowed me to delete one last item of things to do before I die. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I have seen people who have enough positive energy to light up your life just by standing next to you, as I have seen negative people with black hearts and voids that could never be filled. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I have learned to always trust my instincts no matter what they tell me; because when the shit hit the fan, they're all that I got. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3959390091749536410?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3959390091749536410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3959390091749536410&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3959390091749536410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3959390091749536410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/06/random-thoughts-8.html' title='Random Thoughts #8'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4866208465701366874</id><published>2010-06-03T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T07:33:42.481-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Ridiculous Protests!</title><content type='html'>Some people work their entire life time to prove a point; some people give away their lives, the prospect of having a family, a career, even a couple of hours of fun away just to prove a point! These men and women wrote books, essays, gave out lectures, fought, got beaten up, got murdered, got locked up, were dreaded by society for a long of time ... they did it because they believed in something, and they worked hard to prove their point to the best of their power. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the other hand there are punks; punks are stupid retarded wannabe facebook using douche bags; who think that the first breed of people actually owe them something; they read a couple of lines of some book, perhaps listened to a couple of minute of some music or were lectured by their grandparents for a while so they thought they actually know what the fuck they're talking about. They are the type that get heated up in an argument, blame everything that's happening in the world on everyone else, and yet do shit about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's the part that really pisses me off, is that they are actually thinking that they're helping change the world by joining a Facebook group; "Today i was really pissed off about what the homicides in Nigeria did so I joined a 'Fuck homicides' group! Now I'm making a difference!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THE FUCK YOU ARE! i believe that people who pulling off shit like that or talking about the matter are not only doing shit, but they're offending all the people that are trying to do something about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're really upset in regards of the 'homicides in Nigeria' fucking do something about it or shut the fuck up! I don't discuss politics for example for that very reason, i am not worthy of discussing politics, cause there are people who join parties, fight, organize or at least genuinely concerned about a certain topic ... I have chose a life of a coward, I don't care about anything other than my own safety, but at least I am man enough to admit it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's easy to point a finger, it's a lot more difficult for you to do anything about it though. At least have the balls to admit it. Two faced dumb fucks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4866208465701366874?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4866208465701366874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4866208465701366874&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4866208465701366874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4866208465701366874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/06/ridiculous-protests.html' title='Ridiculous Protests!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4518626544023832573</id><published>2010-05-30T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T12:33:19.360-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Not in the 'Mood' anymore!</title><content type='html'>All good things come to an end; it's was nice while it lasted ... picked up lots of good memories, friends and maybe more. Good music, good times, but the show must go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another hint of life telling me to go on; well here's to six lovely years ... god knows how they passed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4518626544023832573?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4518626544023832573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4518626544023832573&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4518626544023832573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4518626544023832573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/05/not-in-mood-anymore.html' title='Not in the &apos;Mood&apos; anymore!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4122563620152848403</id><published>2010-05-27T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T07:37:48.908-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Dash Logic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S_6Cu_iBAnI/AAAAAAAAAmg/XeP_YfLnUTo/s1600/humor-penguin-logic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S_6Cu_iBAnI/AAAAAAAAAmg/XeP_YfLnUTo/s320/humor-penguin-logic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475957940768801394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS: This post is a joke on Dash&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPS: To understand what i'm talking about: &lt;a href="http://collective-tamayo.blogspot.com/2010/05/perfect.html"&gt;http://collective-tamayo.blogspot.com/2010/05/perfect.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPPS: I actually think it's a good piece of writing - aside from some spelling mistakes - but i couldn't resist to tease :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPPPS: I hope she can take a joke&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPPPPS: she would right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPPPPPS: RIGHT???? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPPPPPPS: Scared :S&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4122563620152848403?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4122563620152848403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4122563620152848403&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4122563620152848403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4122563620152848403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/05/dash-logic.html' title='Dash Logic'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S_6Cu_iBAnI/AAAAAAAAAmg/XeP_YfLnUTo/s72-c/humor-penguin-logic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8260879856182071518</id><published>2010-05-25T15:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T15:15:36.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Funny how fallin' feels like flyin' ... for a little while&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8260879856182071518?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8260879856182071518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8260879856182071518&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8260879856182071518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8260879856182071518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/05/funny-how-fallin-feels-like-flyin.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4430319723690798041</id><published>2010-05-23T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T08:01:03.076-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Spontaneous!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;All my life I was the responsible type; I'm the guy that doesn't drink much in a party so that he'd drive everyone home safely; always had to do the right thing, study when studying is required, work hard during collage so that I'd have a career when I graduate; try as hard as possible not to worry my parents, never get into trouble, you know the drill. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474552537922020498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S_mEhx8OJJI/AAAAAAAAAmI/aUQF4O7hx3g/s320/004_vixodnoi_1220263603.jpg" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;It's very hard to convince drunk people to stay in the car you know :S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Every step of my life I always had to plan it. Not necessarily plan it carefully, but at least have an idea where I'm going, or what I'm going to do when I get there ... my worst case scenario type of thinking admittedly got me a lot of what I wanted, I have to admit that already. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is that I noticed is that at the time that I was too focused on planning and going places, other people were having a ball ... literally! The time of their lives, so much of it that they're now considering maturing and focusing on their future for a change. It's that kind of irresponsibility that I have never felt before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess now is as good time as any to ease up a bit, just be irresponsible for a little while, go with the spur of the moment ... what's the worst that could happen? Everyone else survived it, why the hell can't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474552293990452738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S_mETlOZzgI/AAAAAAAAAmA/nmG706xVWCc/s320/naked-drunk-woman.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Well maybe not exactly everyone ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So far, I've made a couple of irrational decisions this month and things aren't that bad; I intend on continuing to do so ... this outta be fun. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4430319723690798041?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4430319723690798041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4430319723690798041&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4430319723690798041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4430319723690798041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/05/spontaneous.html' title='Spontaneous!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S_mEhx8OJJI/AAAAAAAAAmI/aUQF4O7hx3g/s72-c/004_vixodnoi_1220263603.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3027747878336348589</id><published>2010-05-20T03:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T03:54:05.228-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>YOU!</title><content type='html'>I want to dance the night away with you&lt;br /&gt;I want to get stuck in traffic with you&lt;br /&gt;Lay down on the grass in the park on a sunny day&lt;br /&gt;Push you in the pool on a hot one&lt;br /&gt;Kiss you in the subway&lt;br /&gt;Cook for you at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get you every type of flower known to man&lt;br /&gt;Fly you to the far ends of the earth&lt;br /&gt;Tell people about you till they don't wanna know no more&lt;br /&gt;Get bored while you shop&lt;br /&gt;Tell you how beautiful you look every morning&lt;br /&gt;Show you the things that i like&lt;br /&gt;Discover new things with you&lt;br /&gt;learn new languages with you&lt;br /&gt;Start new ventures with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to make you proud&lt;br /&gt;I want you to be part of everything I do and I want you to be in every single moment of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3027747878336348589?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3027747878336348589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3027747878336348589&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3027747878336348589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3027747878336348589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/05/you.html' title='YOU!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-861090726633436719</id><published>2010-05-16T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T14:25:44.495-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Random Thoughts #7</title><content type='html'>- Jordan is fucked up for many reasons, among the most important of them is the complete lack of professionalism, understanding of proper rules of trade and customer service. While I'm probably going to discuss this in further detail in a future post, I'm just going to rant my fucking lungs out over a stupid ass landlord who made a verbal commitment to me then backed up last minute asking for more money; I'm not fucking going away, I want to fucking live in your apartment, take 6 months advance and shut the fuck up! god, he pissed me off for the rest of the day. Not that I want to discourage anyone, but finding a decent house in Amman is like finding a needle in a fucking hay stack factory!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Like digital photography has replaced film and "one hour photo" shops cease to exist, I am too to be replaced by a computer in two weeks; almost 6 years in the radio station, gave me the time of my life, great memories associated with me running off quickly because I had a shift; great music, great people, shitty music, shitty people, but hey, all in all it was one hell of a ride ... and it's strictly business, nothing personal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- In the middle of my save-as-much-money-as-possible period, in a time when i feel guilty for ordering out food, when every penny counts: my guitar idol Eric Clapton decides to finish off his rumored farewell world tour in Istanbul, Turkey; which is like a couple of blocks away from here. I want to go so bad, I have to go, my band mate is going, and I'm scared shit i might regret this later, either way ... I have to pull this off too, it's the technicality I'm worried about, but still, it's bad enough that i missed Mark Knopfler's tour this year too ... these guys are old, and this could be my only shot. Dazed and confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- To put a cherry on the top, Ronnie James Dio died this morning; a once upon a time music idol of mine, i still find respect for him in my heart; his contribution to rock music is more than noted; his impact is impeccable, and his songs will last for generations to come ... RIP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-861090726633436719?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/861090726633436719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=861090726633436719&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/861090726633436719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/861090726633436719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/05/random-thoughts-7.html' title='Random Thoughts #7'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1015209718098346819</id><published>2010-05-09T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T14:52:12.535-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Get the fuck off my lawn</title><content type='html'>An Internet meme based on Clint Eastwood's line in 2008 movie 'Gran Torino' which caught my attention the other day; for anyone who has seen the movie, "Get off my lawn" sounded as menacing as "Make my day" of the Dirty Harry fame; at 78 Clint is still as Bad ass as it gets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S-co1jtK6GI/AAAAAAAAAlo/gmGHCXwEzlY/s1600/lawn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S-co1jtK6GI/AAAAAAAAAlo/gmGHCXwEzlY/s320/lawn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469385173047634018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the Internet today, "Get off my lawn" is a tag line added to posts that reveal the author's age, which is higher than he/she would otherwise care to admit. It plays on the disgust Eastwood showed when he scared the shit out of damn kids that trespassed on his property. I will demonstrate how to use it in a couple of examples I came across:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example A:&lt;br /&gt;"You've got it easy with broadband. When I got my first AOL account, I had a 14.4K modem that I paid $150 for. Now get off my lawn!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example B:&lt;br /&gt;"[Pictured] The Walkman. Don't ask, "What's that?" Get off our lawn, you punk kids!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I was telling my friend how virtually impossible it was to have a conversation with my to-be-father-in-law; every time I try to open a subject, he shoots me down with a one word answer, long disturbing awkward silences and the frequent eye rolls. My friend's theory was that to imagine yourself having a conversation with a kid 20 years younger than you are, and that brat is telling you stuff that are suppose to impress you, what would you think about that? "Get the fuck off my lawn!"probably is what my would-be-father-in-law is thinking of the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely. Can't blame him though, I'd do the same once I'm in his shoes; hell I'm probably doing it now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1015209718098346819?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1015209718098346819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1015209718098346819&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1015209718098346819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1015209718098346819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/05/get-fuck-off-my-lawn.html' title='Get the fuck off my lawn'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S-co1jtK6GI/AAAAAAAAAlo/gmGHCXwEzlY/s72-c/lawn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3822804620209401816</id><published>2010-04-29T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T06:26:04.737-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Boobquake!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As part of the Friday prayer, a speech is commonly given near the end, in which the 'imam' gives out instructions in regards how the muslims attending the prayer could be better to themselves and their community; plus the regular fear-god-pray-or-you-will-fry warnings that people tend to take too seriously. One particular imam called Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi on a Friday afternoon was quoted saying the following on one such occasion: "Many women who do not dress modestly ... lead young men astray, corrupt their chastity and spread adultery in society, which (consequently) increases &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;EARTHQUAKES&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S9l9TBYOvOI/AAAAAAAAAk4/DeEtA_6zSd4/s320/bikiniimage3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465537388531858658" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 272px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Damn Swedish bikini team! They're going to kill us all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some weird reason, some woman named &lt;a href="http://www.blaghag.com/"&gt;Jen McCreight&lt;/a&gt; heard about what that brilliant discovery and decided to "offer her boobs in the name of science"! Her post was fairly simple, on April 26th, 2010, she asked all women who read it to go out and show as much cleavage as they can! Make use of those double D's ladies and then see if there actually would be an Earthquake! that would once and for all prove that boobs piss god off. You might think to yourself, there's no way people could've taken this seriously, the premise is ridiculous to begin with, but actually responding this way to prove it wrong is even more juvenile. But you would be mistaken, cause more than 200,000 people responded to Jen's petition and was a wide spread extravaganza over the web thanks to the help of Facebook and Twitter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S9mAgK3l_6I/AAAAAAAAAlA/-nTrK5wHvFA/s320/women--127195236652593800.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465540912952508322" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;You gotta love how women always come up with sexy demonstrations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Apparently, science was proven wrong; because on the same day of the petition&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eqinthenews/2010/us2010vnag/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; an earthquake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; with a 6.5 magnitude hit southern Taiwan. You might say it's a little bit off the mark, but it was an Earthquake still; proving that that much boobs in one day can really 'rock the Earth'! Naturally, the imams around the world were praising Allah for pouring his wrath on the wicked naked women and the women themselves said it was just pure coincidence proving absolutely nothing to anyone. Believe what you want but I find the whole thing to be one of the biggest lulz of the decade, my only consolation for that day of human idiocy is that for every sad man in Taiwan there was a happy one staring at a cleavage somewhere else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3822804620209401816?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3822804620209401816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3822804620209401816&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3822804620209401816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3822804620209401816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/04/boobquake.html' title='Boobquake!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S9l9TBYOvOI/AAAAAAAAAk4/DeEtA_6zSd4/s72-c/bikiniimage3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8779794331282128672</id><published>2010-04-26T02:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T02:44:28.553-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Originality is Dead, and We killed it</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S9Vf8kmnu3I/AAAAAAAAAkw/N-ZVIS4IbCI/s1600/originality.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464379217106418546" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S9Vf8kmnu3I/AAAAAAAAAkw/N-ZVIS4IbCI/s320/originality.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are a group of talentless worthless fucks and it's about time we fucking admit it. An army of underachievers, nonbelievers, commercial pricks with high ego but low self esteem. Trying constantly to prove a point to everyone in order to prove it to ourselves. Give it up already, it's pathetic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are mimes trapped in a spiral whirlwind of failure, repeatedly duplicating other's successes in a deformed version of which we are not only proud but braggers; the mere concept that is not only absurd but is flat out ape shit ridiculous. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are the self proclaimed 'creative' people, that do nothing but massacre the very art we represent; we take credit for years of evolution in arts of sciences of which we know shit as if it was our own. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We deny those who are genius the right by shutting them up, turning them down or drown them in an endless sea of garbage in which they don't want to take part of anymore; we take the will of the creators to create. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If we were to ever develop a sense of shame that would be the day for all of us, perhaps even the day Jesus rises again. For it takes us to stop bullshitting people starting with ourselves and look at the facts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Create rather than destroy; Assist rather than criticize. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do rather than write. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Should we all confess our sins to one another we would all laugh at one another for our lack of originality" Khalil Gibran &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8779794331282128672?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8779794331282128672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8779794331282128672&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8779794331282128672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8779794331282128672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/04/originality-is-dead-and-we-killed-it.html' title='Originality is Dead, and We killed it'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S9Vf8kmnu3I/AAAAAAAAAkw/N-ZVIS4IbCI/s72-c/originality.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3874127281410420284</id><published>2010-04-21T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T13:17:23.608-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The stars are aligned once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little spark of hope could light up a dim heart; a heart that has lost it's lust for such a long time. The sensation that travels along your spinal chords, the will to achieve, the desire to produce, the urge to accomplish and maybe the ambition for desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably know by now how a plant feels when it's soiled in the shade; the pain of slow suffocation and the decay of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh little spark shine a bit more ...&lt;br /&gt;keep me warm, just a little bit more.&lt;br /&gt;Set me free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3874127281410420284?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3874127281410420284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3874127281410420284&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3874127281410420284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3874127281410420284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/04/stars-are-aligned-once-again-little.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2733184597611149274</id><published>2010-04-14T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T07:53:07.605-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><title type='text'>Top 3 workplace Movies you must see</title><content type='html'>3 - &lt;b&gt;The devil wears Prada&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8XWoljCavI/AAAAAAAAAkY/q5-xT_A-OP4/s1600/prada.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8XWoljCavI/AAAAAAAAAkY/q5-xT_A-OP4/s320/prada.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460006116018776818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a 2006 critically praised film based on the book by Lauren Weisberger. Anne Hathaway, a recent college graduate goes to New York City and gets a job as a co-assistant to powerful and demanding fashion magazine editor Meryl Streep. The later's eccentric almost pure evil performance shook everyone to the core earning her many awards and nominations including her 14th Oscar bid.  Meryl Streep could've been the staple for evil bosses everywhere if it wasn't for ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;2 - Swimming with Sharks&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8XWfSpDnAI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/ZWfsIRhJdRs/s1600/swimming.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8XWfSpDnAI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/ZWfsIRhJdRs/s320/swimming.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460005956324924418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kevin Spacey playing the boss from hell in this 1994 workplace nightmare. Frank Whaley thinks he landed the job of a lifetime when he's subjected to sadistic and public verbal abuse and sending him on meaningless errands. The story evolves showcasing how much the work place can really affect - and change you - as a person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;1 - Office space&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8XV8v0AoTI/AAAAAAAAAkI/rvcdOYeF-RI/s1600/office_space.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8XV8v0AoTI/AAAAAAAAAkI/rvcdOYeF-RI/s320/office_space.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460005362860073266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bible of workplace movies; all though not a commercial success when it was first released back in 1999 it has grew to classic cult status afterwards selling millions of VHS and DVDs and now on blue ray. Perhaps the most accurate yet sarcastic description of a IT work environment was hailed by employees from around the globe. I highly recommend it and 10 years after watching it for the first time I still find things in daily life that I can relate to with the movie.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2733184597611149274?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2733184597611149274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2733184597611149274&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2733184597611149274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2733184597611149274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/04/top-3-workplace-movies-you-must-see.html' title='Top 3 workplace Movies you must see'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8XWoljCavI/AAAAAAAAAkY/q5-xT_A-OP4/s72-c/prada.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3684835795209315046</id><published>2010-04-11T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T06:35:32.028-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash Medicine'/><title type='text'>Dunning - Kruger Effect</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunning%E2%80%93Kruger_effect"&gt;Dunning–Kruger&lt;/a&gt; effect is a cognitive bias in which "people reach erroneous conclusions and make unfortunate choices but their incompetence robs them of the metacognitive ability to realize it" science bullshit aside, people who suffer from this effect are those who think they're really good at something when they really really suck at it! everyone told them they suck at it, their moms told them they suck at it too, yet they refuse to believe that and actually think they are talented in that particular area! They are the guy at the office who still believes he can play professional football and the girl with squeaky voice at karaoke night who insists on singing 4 Mariah Carey songs in a row. with passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8MeUqNzqBI/AAAAAAAAAj4/i1QfnKWMbb0/s1600/karaoke_singer2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8MeUqNzqBI/AAAAAAAAAj4/i1QfnKWMbb0/s320/karaoke_singer2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459240513581590546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Oh for god's sake someone shut her up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now imagine a person that suffers from the Dunning-kruger effect, combined with some &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcissism"&gt;Narcissism &lt;/a&gt;and a dangerous mixture of money and power. You got a bossy talentless junky that believes he's the master mind behind all the puppets he's currently controlling. He genuinely thinks he's a rare breed of artist that possess supernatural powers only he can grasp, he will continually make sure you know of that "fact" and due to his narcissism he will continually use vulgar displays of power; he always has the need to prove a retarded point no one gives a shit about; off course having the money and power makes it a lot easier for him to convey those ideas, yet due to the odd combination of Dunning-Kruger and Narcissism he finds the need to impress everyone around him with lies, even though everyone know he doesn't possess the talent to begin with. Somewhere along the way he was so lost touch with reality that he couldn't tell the difference between what's true and what's not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: My boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8MeJKSOksI/AAAAAAAAAjw/qaA5Xm6Wi4A/s1600/boss-782922.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8MeJKSOksI/AAAAAAAAAjw/qaA5Xm6Wi4A/s320/boss-782922.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459240316031636162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Only much much meaner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day the funniest story happened that made me jump to this diagnosys. It's because he claimed that he couldn't remember whether that he wrote a script for a comic or that he completely spawned it out of his mind, you see this is absurd because I'm the one who does both those things or work with the people who do and email it to him. I know that, he knows that i know that, yet that didn't stop him from making that ridiculous claim. Funny, creepy, and maybe a hint of sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3684835795209315046?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3684835795209315046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3684835795209315046&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3684835795209315046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3684835795209315046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/04/dunning-kruger-effect.html' title='Dunning - Kruger Effect'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S8MeUqNzqBI/AAAAAAAAAj4/i1QfnKWMbb0/s72-c/karaoke_singer2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3445763548792036354</id><published>2010-04-05T01:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T01:29:29.664-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>I don't care!</title><content type='html'>People who say they don’t care what people think are usually desperate to have people think they don’t care what people think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3445763548792036354?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3445763548792036354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3445763548792036354&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3445763548792036354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3445763548792036354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-dont-care.html' title='I don&apos;t care!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2163848365022097081</id><published>2010-03-31T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T13:45:37.363-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Tell me ...</title><content type='html'>which is easier? being the first to go, knowing that you'd be on your own while everyone is still together or being the last, knowing that everyone have scattered to different places, each alone as well?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2163848365022097081?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2163848365022097081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2163848365022097081&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2163848365022097081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2163848365022097081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/03/tell-me.html' title='Tell me ...'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5854476465154983788</id><published>2010-03-31T03:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T03:34:43.214-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash Medicine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Let's talk about Sex #2</title><content type='html'>- &lt;a href="http://themedguru.com/20091206/newsfeature/stare-boobs-longer-life-study-86131320.html"&gt;Recent German study&lt;/a&gt; has shown that staring at boobs is good for men's health and increases their life expectancy; This study perhaps explains why we as men can't resist the cleavage; it's basic instinct taking over not just sexual urges, on the short run it makes us happy and smiling like idiots. On the long term, staring at boobs on a daily basses for at least 10 minutes every day adds &lt;a href="http://news.softpedia.com/news/10-Minutes-Of-Staring-Boobs-Daily-Prolongs-Man-039-s-Life-by-5-Years-72490.shtml"&gt;five years &lt;/a&gt;to our lives. On the bright side ladies, while we're staring we'll pretty much agree to anything and everything you say, use it ... I'm sure you already do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S7MlFswTSRI/AAAAAAAAAjo/i8IGNslDeEs/s1600/Cleavage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S7MlFswTSRI/AAAAAAAAAjo/i8IGNslDeEs/s320/Cleavage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454744353519126802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You're welcome!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Women are attracted to assholes! I've discussed this &lt;a href="http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2007/11/study-on-jordanian-female.html"&gt;before&lt;/a&gt; and now I have &lt;a href="http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg19826614.100-bad-guys-really-do-get-the-most-girls.html"&gt;scientific proof&lt;/a&gt;. Not one study, but two have shown that a certain breed of men possess a set of personality traits that include exploitation, thrill-seeking/callous behavior and self-obsession. Since people like this are assholes, science dictates that they should have been bred out of the gene pool a long time ago. Of course, they weren't. And it's because the ladies love bad boys. Scientists found that the higher a man scores on possessing these traits the more sex partners he had had and the more likely he was to be looking for short flings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5854476465154983788?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5854476465154983788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5854476465154983788&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5854476465154983788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5854476465154983788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/03/lets-talk-about-sex-2.html' title='Let&apos;s talk about Sex #2'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S7MlFswTSRI/AAAAAAAAAjo/i8IGNslDeEs/s72-c/Cleavage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-7915427191884280026</id><published>2010-03-23T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T08:04:07.981-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Mainstream 5ara Music</title><content type='html'>The other day I turned on the radio while I was in the car and a whole lot of shit came out, particularly a song about a bunch of rappers wanting a girl to ditch her boyfriend and go to a hotel room for an orgy; it's not that I hate the lyrical aspect of the song as much as i hate the musical part as well ... i feel that it is offending for me to be shoved up music that is under-made by talentless junkies who rely on nothing other than their image and huge marketing campaigns. A few year's back I heard a song called 'yeah' by an 'artist' called Usher, which is 4 notes played consecutively for the duration of 5 minutes. Major hit world wide every station/club in the world played it. Everyone had to listen to it, liked it or not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6jUWhFfFcI/AAAAAAAAAjI/wEPJvb2tDAE/s1600-h/usher.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6jUWhFfFcI/AAAAAAAAAjI/wEPJvb2tDAE/s320/usher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451840832235574722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Usher demonstrating the effort needed to be a recording artist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Call me old fashioned, but to me this is exactly like buying food cooked by an ape, or buying clothes that are worn by a fat model or appreciating a portrait that was scribbled by &lt;a href="http://www.elephantartgallery.com/"&gt;an elephant&lt;/a&gt;; If you have zero talent/education in a field you have no business doing it! Seriously, why do I have to listen to shit artists like that or find them crammed in my senses everywhere I turn to  even in movies!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main stream music scene is shifting from bad to worse, back in the 90's we wished things would get better once people realize that 90's shit ain't hip, but the sad part is that more crap is coming out now than it ever did; everyone knows they're crap because there has hardly been anyone that have come out during the last 20 years that would classify as a music legend. People knew that The Beatles were going to make music history when they first came out back in the day, so were Stevie Wonder, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, Michael Jackson ... there are far too many others to mention. Not one name could come up to mind when we consider the period from 1992 onwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6jUFgDuR6I/AAAAAAAAAjA/nw6tqidXZOU/s1600-h/Kurt-Cobain-Guitar-Poster-C11737524.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6jUFgDuR6I/AAAAAAAAAjA/nw6tqidXZOU/s320/Kurt-Cobain-Guitar-Poster-C11737524.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451840539901970338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;One of the reasons why he killed himself; other than him and his gf were total nutjobs!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Bottom line is, there used to be a time when you opened the radio and some nice music came on, there used to be a time when good music was out there for everyone. Nowadays, it's just bullshit, everyone knows it yet everyone still buys it. if you stop buying that shit, maybe the music industry dick head would realize that they should cut the funding on those assholes and get us some TALENT for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've said it before and I'll say it again, the day a song called 'My hump' came out and became a world wide hit is the day the music died.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-7915427191884280026?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/7915427191884280026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=7915427191884280026&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7915427191884280026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7915427191884280026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/03/mainstream-5ara-music.html' title='Mainstream 5ara Music'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6jUWhFfFcI/AAAAAAAAAjI/wEPJvb2tDAE/s72-c/usher.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-598877590912466474</id><published>2010-03-17T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T08:36:14.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1 billion Dollars</title><content type='html'>We hear this number a lot, but allow me to elaborate how big this number is, i tell you, if you managed to get 1/1000 of that amount in money you'd be set for the rest of your and your childrens' lives. This is what a billion dollar in 100$ bills look like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6D1my89igI/AAAAAAAAAio/hse-vNmL4WM/s1600-h/1+billion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 182px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6D1my89igI/AAAAAAAAAio/hse-vNmL4WM/s320/1+billion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449625595979598338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The facts below give a sense of how large 1,000,000,000 is in different contexts according to current scientific evidence:&lt;br /&gt;- 1 billion seconds is 114 days short of 32 calendar years (≈ 31.7 years) that means that you need 31.7 years to count your money if it takes you 1 second per bill.&lt;br /&gt;- About 1 billion minutes ago, the Roman Empire was flourishing.&lt;br /&gt;- About 1 billion hours ago, modern human beings and their ancestors were living in the Stone Age (more precisely, the Middle Paleolithic).&lt;br /&gt;- About 1 billion days ago, Australopithecus, an ape-like creature related to an ancestor of modern humans, roamed the African savannas.&lt;br /&gt;- About 1 billion months ago, dinosaurs walked the earth during the late Cretaceous.&lt;br /&gt;- About 1 billion years ago, the first multicellular eukaryotes appeared on Earth. The universe is currently thought to be about 13.7 × 1 billion years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terms of distance:&lt;br /&gt;- 1 billion centimeters is about the distance from Chicago to Tokyo.&lt;br /&gt;- 1 billion inches is 15,783 miles, more than halfway around the world and sufficient to reach any point on the globe from any other point.&lt;br /&gt;- 1 billion meters is almost three times the distance from the Earth to the Moon.&lt;br /&gt;- 1 billion kilometers is over six times the distance from the Earth to the Sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terms of finance:&lt;br /&gt;- The possession of assets with total value of 1 billion United States dollars would place a person among the world's wealthiest individuals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terms of area:&lt;br /&gt;- A billion square inches would be a square about one half mile on a side.&lt;br /&gt;- A piece of finely woven bed sheet cloth that contained a billion holes would measure about 500 square feet, large enough to cover a moderate sized apartment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-598877590912466474?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/598877590912466474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=598877590912466474&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/598877590912466474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/598877590912466474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/03/1-billion-dollars.html' title='1 billion Dollars'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S6D1my89igI/AAAAAAAAAio/hse-vNmL4WM/s72-c/1+billion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8027118694190669916</id><published>2010-03-17T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T06:56:13.785-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Random Thoughts #6</title><content type='html'>- Evil happens when all the good men decide not to do anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The best way to get something is to not actually want it; eagerness is a weakness that is best not to be shown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Putting an "artistic" label on the incoherent doesn't make it meaningful, only shows the ugliness of the pretentiousness of humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If everything annoys you, that means you're annoying everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Originality is dead, and the people who tried to revive it are the ones who 'originally' killed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Selfishness is a loop that can only be realized by examining one's own actions and their effects on others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Don't do good if you are going to use it in the I-am-a-good-person court; that would take all the good out of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8027118694190669916?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8027118694190669916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8027118694190669916&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8027118694190669916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8027118694190669916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/03/random-thoughts-6.html' title='Random Thoughts #6'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-7830030513293601070</id><published>2010-03-07T06:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T11:30:00.168-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><title type='text'>Academy awards predictions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S5O90cv8vjI/AAAAAAAAAiY/nnq5aK3INb0/s1600-h/36294-Oscar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S5O90cv8vjI/AAAAAAAAAiY/nnq5aK3INb0/s320/36294-Oscar.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445905083189214770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I did it, I've completed the list of nominees this year and almost done with the &lt;a href="http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/best-movies-of-2009.html"&gt;complete list&lt;/a&gt; of movies for this year that I've compiled earlier, the following are who I think would win and who I wish would win for most Oscar categories:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best picture:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Avatar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish it was: An education &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;Who won: The Hurt Locker (WTF?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Director:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James Cameron - Avatar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CC00;"&gt;Who won: Kathryn Bigelow – The Hurt Locker (WTF?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Actor:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jeff Bridges - Crazy Heart &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Actress: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sandra Bullock - The Blind side &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wish it was: Meryl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Streep&lt;/span&gt; - Julie &amp;amp; Julia &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Supporting Actor:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christopher Waltz - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;inglourious&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Basterds &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish it was: Woody &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Harrelson&lt;/span&gt; - The Messenger &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Supporting Actress:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mo'Nique&lt;/span&gt; - Precious &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish it was: Maggie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Gyllenhaal&lt;/span&gt; - Crazy Heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Original Screenplay:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quentin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Tarantino&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Inglourious&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Basterds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;Who won: The Hurt Locker – Mark Boal (WTF)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Adapted Screenplay:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Geoffrey Fletcher - Precious &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish it was: Nick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Hornby&lt;/span&gt; - An Education &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Animated Feature:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pete &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Docter&lt;/span&gt; - Up &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Original Theme:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Horner&lt;/span&gt; - Avatar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;Who won: Up – Michael Giacchino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Sound editing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christopher &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Boyes&lt;/span&gt; and Gwendolyn Yates Whittle - Avatar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;Who won: The Hurt Locker – Paul N.J. Ottosson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Sound Mixing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christopher &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Boyes&lt;/span&gt;, Gary Summers, Andy Nelson and Tony Johnson - Avatar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;Who won: The Hurt Locker – Paul N.J. Ottosson and Ray Beckett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Art Direction:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Art Direction: Rick Carter and Robert &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Stromberg&lt;/span&gt;; Set Decoration: Kim Sinclair - Avatar &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Cinematography:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mauro &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Fiore&lt;/span&gt; - Avatar &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish it was: Barry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Ackroyd&lt;/span&gt; - The Hurt Locker&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Film Editing:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James Cameron - Avatar &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;Who won: The Hurt Locker – Chris Innis and Bob Murawski (WTF)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Visual Effects:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Letteri&lt;/span&gt;, Stephen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Rosenbaum&lt;/span&gt;, Richard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Baneham&lt;/span&gt; and Andrew R. Jones - Avatar &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;(WON)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Final word:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James Cameron and Crew will sweep the Oscars once again like he did back in 1997 also missing all major acting and scripting categories. Oprah would probably try to influence the academy to give her some Oscars for the shit movie she made and hopefully they wouldn't be persuaded. An education all though a superb movie would probably be completely snubbed from any awards. Notable Oscars &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt; moments would be that "Max &amp;amp; Mary" one of the best movies I've seen, was completely ignored by the academy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;Updated 8/3/2010: after watching the show, The hurt locker surprised/disappointed the shit out of me by winning 6 out of 9 categories in which it was nominated ... way to go for being subtle about supporting the war on Iraq, sad day for cinema, only good thing i can think of about the hurt locker winning so much is that it will further promote jordan as a filming location. whoo-fucking-hoo. i've also updated the winners in green;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-7830030513293601070?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/7830030513293601070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=7830030513293601070&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7830030513293601070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7830030513293601070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/03/academy-awards-predictions.html' title='Academy awards predictions'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S5O90cv8vjI/AAAAAAAAAiY/nnq5aK3INb0/s72-c/36294-Oscar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5341141445825802076</id><published>2010-03-03T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T14:09:25.635-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Technology</title><content type='html'>I don't know about you guys, but I remember a time where we had dreams about what technology would bring us; I remember a time when technology really surprised me ... when I stared at it, my jaw dropped and said: "WOW"! I remember the first time I saw a Famicom, the first time I saw a CD and how it can fit 600 Floppy discs on it, the first time I saw a cell phone, the first time I saw a 3D game and didn't know what the hell that was, I remember the fuss around the globe when I heard a bunch of scientists cloned a fucking sheep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S47cWfIejeI/AAAAAAAAAh4/rplf37fswT8/s1600-h/virtua.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 248px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S47cWfIejeI/AAAAAAAAAh4/rplf37fswT8/s320/virtua.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444531278409797090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;A real WOW moment back in the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;and I remember the first time I saw the Internet. Yup, that's something to tell your kids ladies and gentlemen: "I was there when the Internet was born". We've witnessed a lot of shit in our time, too much actually! You always hear people say rapid development in technology, but if you think about it for a second you'd notice that we've received enough information and technology in the past 15 years than people would have received in 10 centuries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, we're so used to rapid technology by now, that nothing surprises us anymore! Think about it, I remember when we were kids, we used to watch cartoons and Sci-fi movies in which people of the future have portable devices in which they can have a video conversation with another person; fact is, that technology is old news now, not only is it old, it got there we didn't even notice that it did, and we found it to be inconvenient; I've discovered that I have that feature on my cell phone the other day, and didn't care the least ... hell, why would I want someone that I'm talking to to know what I'm wearing, where I am or who I'm with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S47cG9MOa8I/AAAAAAAAAhw/IEIAhCcwPVI/s1600-h/cell_phone_630px.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S47cG9MOa8I/AAAAAAAAAhw/IEIAhCcwPVI/s320/cell_phone_630px.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444531011600673730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Pictured: Not Sci-Fi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Hell, I have features on my fucking cell phone right now that all my childhood house appliances combined couldn't pull off! and it's in my fucking pocket, STILL I find things to complain about, and the funny thing is that I expect the things that I fantasize or complain about to be fixed within the next couple of months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing impresses us anymore, if a clone of myself walks into the room and shakes my hand right now, I wouldn't freak out or kneel on all four praying that evil demon to be withdrawn, I'll get out of the room and yell "All right, WHICH ONE OF YOU MOTHER FUCKERS CLONED ME BEHIND MY BACK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S47b2kV83NI/AAAAAAAAAho/OrBDSdPahgQ/s1600-h/twin_dragons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 152px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S47b2kV83NI/AAAAAAAAAho/OrBDSdPahgQ/s320/twin_dragons.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444530730052672722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;A bit of an awkward moment you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Fact is, I miss being shocked! horrified and truly amazed! It's a wonderful feeling, I miss being impressed, and perhaps in someway it kinda link to the fact that I miss feeling grateful and appreciative ... We all know the name of the guy who invented the radio, but do we know the name of the person who came up with touch screen? GPS? Cure for cancer?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5341141445825802076?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5341141445825802076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5341141445825802076&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5341141445825802076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5341141445825802076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/03/technology.html' title='Technology'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S47cWfIejeI/AAAAAAAAAh4/rplf37fswT8/s72-c/virtua.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6958209037296757123</id><published>2010-02-25T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T03:32:11.844-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Identity Crisis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S4ZfWtHFvSI/AAAAAAAAAhg/gYEt88_P0LI/s1600-h/identity-crisis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 303px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S4ZfWtHFvSI/AAAAAAAAAhg/gYEt88_P0LI/s320/identity-crisis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442142043394915618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The identity is "a subjective sense as well as an observable quality of personal sameness and continuity, paired with some belief in the sameness and continuity of some shared world image. As a quality of unself-conscious living, this can be gloriously obvious in a young person who has found himself as he has found his communality. In him we see emerge a unique unification of what is irreversibly given--that is, body type and temperament, giftedness and vulnerability, infantile models and acquired ideals--with the open choices provided in available roles, occupational possibilities, values offered, mentors met, friendships made, and first sexual encounters (&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erik_Erikson"&gt;Erikson&lt;/a&gt;, 1970)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Erikson suggested that people experience an identity crisis when they lose "a sense of personal sameness and historical continuity". Given today's rapid development in technology, global economy, dynamics in local and world politics, one might expect identity crises to recur more commonly now than even thirty years ago, when Erikson formed his theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S4ZfNBok9BI/AAAAAAAAAhY/rVyVP8vgATg/s1600-h/Erik_Erikson.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 292px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S4ZfNBok9BI/AAAAAAAAAhY/rVyVP8vgATg/s320/Erik_Erikson.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442141877105390610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Way beyond your age Erikson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erikson might have given us the diagnosis for the dilemma that we're faced with; it explains why we have similar tastes to the west, yet have strong roots to our traditions. It explains most of the contradictions, hypocrisy and weird things that we do; Simply because we don't know who we are anymore! I want to have girlfriends, but I don't want my sister dating anyone, I want to have sex but I want a virgin wife, I enjoy the language but i don't get the music. We all have identity crisis to some extent, but i guess that the more you realize it the more it will be simpler to deal with; instead of being doomed to forever being torn apart in between ideals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6958209037296757123?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6958209037296757123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6958209037296757123&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6958209037296757123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6958209037296757123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/02/identity-crisis.html' title='Identity Crisis'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S4ZfWtHFvSI/AAAAAAAAAhg/gYEt88_P0LI/s72-c/identity-crisis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2837927554009306787</id><published>2010-02-17T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T14:59:47.904-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Little things</title><content type='html'>That playful gesture before you attempt a bite&lt;br /&gt;The funny yawn you make when you get sleepy&lt;br /&gt;How overwhelmed you get in supermarkets&lt;br /&gt;The fact that you never jump when you play basket ball&lt;br /&gt;Your seemingly endless appetite&lt;br /&gt;The unexplainable love for shoes&lt;br /&gt;Flaming desire to be better at everything&lt;br /&gt;The hilarious miserable attempts to retell a joke&lt;br /&gt;Your off-tune whistles when you listen to music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cracks me up every time; I forgot how it was before I got used to all this and I can't imagine my life without them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2837927554009306787?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2837927554009306787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2837927554009306787&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2837927554009306787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2837927554009306787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/02/little-things.html' title='Little things'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-9217441998554985790</id><published>2010-02-15T03:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T05:04:44.073-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>List of 10 most intimidating women to date</title><content type='html'>Today my boss was heading off on an appointment with the company lawyer which is a woman, i could see that he was uneasy, not really looking forward to the meeting ... yes agreed, no one likes lawyers, but i thought that probably since she was a female she was even more intimidating, that lead to the result of me thinking that if an average guy wants to date a woman, which type would be the most intimidating*, I came up with the following list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Female Body Builder: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  - Why men are secretly attracted to them: men like muscles and tight butts, these are women that work their asses off in the gym all day long to make every single muscle stand out ... every single one of those tight babies; you can just imagine her welcoming you home after a hard day's work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S3lEsVcHm-I/AAAAAAAAAgg/vTjO_rzlszg/s1600-h/Kris_Murrell_Female_Bodybuilder.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 191px; height: 286px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S3lEsVcHm-I/AAAAAAAAAgg/vTjO_rzlszg/s320/Kris_Murrell_Female_Bodybuilder.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438453553486601186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Welcome home honey!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   - Why men are intimidated by them: let's face it, no one likes to hang out with someone who's stronger than they are; it's how you never joke around much with your muscly guy friends because their reflexes could cause serious damage; imagine trying to get physical with a female version of him now.&lt;br /&gt;  - Result of First fight: a trip to the nearest hospital if you're lucky, unless you're still trapped in a chocking head while you're reading this.&lt;br /&gt;  - See also: Female Wrestler or boxer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Female Professional Basket Ball player &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: Come'on! that girl can dunk! and you've always wondered what it would be like to be with someone that you can only reach their belly button.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: Whenever the two of you have a discussion you would be looking upward trying to prove an assertive point while she will look down at you saying she'll never do it again. let's face it guys have a hard time when their girl wear high heals, how would they feel if she was 6.4 feet?&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: she's gonna take you home biatch!&lt;br /&gt; - See also: any normal woman who is taller than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Business woman:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: She looks so damn good in that suit and with her hair tied up like a donut! hmmm ... i love donuts.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: They earn more money than you do, and they're used to boss people around, can you imagine what it would be like to live with them?&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: i don't have time for this shit! i have companies to run!&lt;br /&gt; - See also: Filthy rich women, the president's daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Construction worker:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: a T-shirt so wet with sweat and that out of control hair.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: They work hard all day! They EARN their living and they share some real man jokes with the guys on the edge of the 35th floor of an unfinished building while you're hanging around the cooler in your cozy warm office all day long.&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: she'll call the guys from work to kick your ass!&lt;br /&gt; - See also: Female plumber, Taxi driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Female Bull fighter:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: there's something about that broken English accent.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: They stick swords in living things that are 50 times stronger than you are.&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: They stick swords in living things.&lt;br /&gt; - See also: sword fighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S3lERVTr5AI/AAAAAAAAAgY/TR5m6J2PVTM/s1600-h/fighter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 164px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S3lERVTr5AI/AAAAAAAAAgY/TR5m6J2PVTM/s320/fighter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438453089594762242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I vill kilz U!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;6. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lesbian:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: they always imagine a threesome.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: because this is a woman that says she doesn't need men and can easily replace you with another woman and a cucumber!&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: SCREW YOU! on second thought, no! I'll screw a woman or two, i don't need this shit.&lt;br /&gt; - See also: bisexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Law women:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: she can help me if i ever get a speeding ticket.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: They are women who are experienced in arguments, you probably know by now that you can never win an argument against a REGULAR woman! do you think you have the slightest chance in hell to win one over a woman who does that for a living?&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: You'll hear from my guys soon ... say goodbye to this house, you're going to miss it.&lt;br /&gt; - See also: Judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Celebrity:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: everyone in the world knows that woman and wishes to be with her.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: they're constantly on the road, they earn tons more money than you do, they're being hit on by millions, they have photoshopped/real nude pictures of them on the Internet and they have a very very tight schedule and the only way they'd fit you in is if they made you a celebrity yourself.&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: I MADE YOU MOTHER FUCKER! I MADE YOU!&lt;br /&gt; - See also: Models, Singers and rock stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Professional Escort worker (Hooker)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: They have sex for a living; they would do anything you ever dreamed of.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: They've been with a lot of guys before, and i mean a lot of guys, that hurts every now and then, but the fact that you'd always think that you can't measure up or that she doesn't even feel anything anymore.&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: I blew my career for you!&lt;br /&gt; - See also: cheerleaders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S3lDgcpu4sI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/uwc4x_r-CYM/s1600-h/hooker-018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S3lDgcpu4sI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/uwc4x_r-CYM/s320/hooker-018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438452249752691394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Pictured: A career woman waiting for the bus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Female psychiatrist:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are secretly attracted to them: She could be very understanding.&lt;br /&gt; - Why men are intimidated by them: She knows everything that goes on in your mind; analyzes your every movie and always somehow finds routes in your childhood for that problem.&lt;br /&gt; - Result of First fight: I knew this would happen ever since you told me your uncle molested you as a child!&lt;br /&gt; - See also: Scientists and fortune tellers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* NO! I'm not a sexist, if you've read the blog before you'd know that by now and can probably take a joke or two. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-9217441998554985790?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/9217441998554985790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=9217441998554985790&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/9217441998554985790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/9217441998554985790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/02/list-of-10-most-intimidating-women-to.html' title='List of 10 most intimidating women to date'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S3lEsVcHm-I/AAAAAAAAAgg/vTjO_rzlszg/s72-c/Kris_Murrell_Female_Bodybuilder.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3359785695979533408</id><published>2010-02-10T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T14:44:13.344-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Shallow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.monstersandcritics.com/articles2/1457822/article_images/clueless.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 274px;" src="http://media.monstersandcritics.com/articles2/1457822/article_images/clueless.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Like it or not, we are shallow creatures and it's about fucking time we admit it. I know it ain't pretty, but this is exactly what we like: pretty! If you are at the supermarket you're more likely to pick up the big fat orange than the smaller wrinkly one, even though the smaller one might taste sweeter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how it goes, if you look at a successful guy, rich, handsome, has a company but married to an ugly woman, you'd think there's something wrong with that picture, you'd say he can do better, even though that woman could be the nicest woman in the world. you don't give a shit, she doesn't look 'pretty' and that fucks up the whole formula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to imagine your self as a boss and two women apply to a certain position - let's say your personal assistant - they both have the same qualification, one is hot the other is not, who would you hire? easy isn't it? now I'm assuming that you have some morals, most people don't ... and for those, qualifications don't really mean shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.joystickdivision.com/jade_raymond.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 243px; height: 366px;" src="http://www.joystickdivision.com/jade_raymond.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But seriously, who wouldn't hire her?*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might be quick as I am to blame pop culture and TV for programming us to pick 'pretty' but you are WRONG! &lt;a href="http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn6355-babies-prefer-to-gaze-upon-beautiful-faces.html"&gt;We were born this way&lt;/a&gt;, and going even more Freudian on your ass, it probably has sexual motives which I'm not going to get into now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad as it may seem, it's the truth, i know it, you know it. if you're ugly, you're not going far ... maybe that's why in girl world, the ultimate curse is to call a woman ugly or fat. Guys think that doesn't effect them much , but it does, and god knows how many opportunities you could've had if you were slightly better looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god for plastic surgeries. You should know that it doesn't make you a bad person to think this way, it does make you a bad person if you don't acknowledge it however.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*For those of you who don't know who this woman is, meet Jade Raymond! the executive producer for the hit video game "Assassin's creed". It's probably obvious by now how she led an army of geeks into making one of the top console games of it's time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3359785695979533408?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3359785695979533408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3359785695979533408&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3359785695979533408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3359785695979533408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/02/shallow.html' title='Shallow'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-8633637785103418005</id><published>2010-02-07T06:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T06:58:45.405-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Understanding Annoying Movie Fans</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Since films are the tentpole that holds up our entire modern culture (supplying us with most of our heroes, moral lessons and opportunities to watch robots punching other robots) we inevitably find ourselves in conversation with other movie fans. Many of these fans are impossible to talk to, because they fall into the following categories (funny enough, i found a little bit of myself in all of them):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Foreign Film Purist&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thinks that American artistic sensibilities are inherently flawed. Like their maid Maria, won't watch anything without subtitles. Unlike Maria, has a choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite film: City of god&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Prophet&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They think it's their job to outsmart the screenwriter at every turn. As you sit there, deeply engaged in the movie, it is The Prophet's job to look bored, grumbling about how predictable this shit is. Whenever there is a dramatic beat or turns of events, The Prophet is known to roll his eyes and say "called it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite film: Memento &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Film Student&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Owns a video camera, wants to go to film school or is already there, and holy shit do they love to talk about it. Will join any conversation about any movie and casually throw in technical terms to show off his knowledge of the medium. While you're talking about how awesome the character or story was, they're talking about how much the sound mixing sucked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite Film: Touch of Evil&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Old-Timer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This isn't necessarily an old guy. Like the kid who discovered classic rock in middle school, followed swiftly by classical music, this is anyone who insists that modern movies ain't got nothing on cinema's Golden Age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite Film: Gone with the wind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Tech Geek&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is obsessed with watching every movie in a level of clarity not even the filmmakers have seen it in. Somehow manages to turn every conversation into a discussion of his home theater set-up. For ever minute spent watching film, they have spent two hours messing with cables.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite Film: Avatar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The De-constructionist&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LIke a crazy person who loves his bunny so much he decides to take it apart to see how it works. This person can't simply enjoy movies for what they are, but must examine the motive behind every single choice the filmmakers made. Employs useless Philosophy degree on movie nights by lecturing fellow viewers about layers of subtext and symbolism that almost certainly aren't there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite Film: 2001 A space odyssey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The English Student&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is a little too proud of those English Lit classes he took at community college. Lives to tell everyone why "the book was better."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite Film: Dead poet's Society &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Indie-ana Douche&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lives by a strict critical code. If a movie costs more than a million dollars to make, it's a piece of worthless commercial trash. Insists that real drama must involve a transgender/alcoholic/boring protagonist played by Philip Seymour Hoffman/William H. Macy/Parker Posey whose inability to achieve success as a writer/parent/human being leads to suicide/overdose/other method of dying alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite Film: any indie film &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Trivia-Night Champion&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Has read extensively on film; uses this acquired knowledge to show off during movie night. Points out the little facts that no one besides him cares about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Favourite Film: Everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "&gt;Source: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cracked.com/funny-935-movies/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;http://www.cracked.com/funny-935-movies/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-8633637785103418005?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/8633637785103418005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=8633637785103418005&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8633637785103418005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/8633637785103418005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/02/understanding-annoying-movie-fans.html' title='Understanding Annoying Movie Fans'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3131106181029891988</id><published>2010-02-03T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T13:42:11.611-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Let it snow</title><content type='html'>يعني إذا ما تلجت اليوم او بكرا الصبح بتنبأ بشعب أردني مفقوس مداوم غصبن عن أبوه، وفاقعها كشرة محترمه! إتلجي بعرض أختك!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3131106181029891988?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3131106181029891988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3131106181029891988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3131106181029891988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3131106181029891988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/02/let-it-snow.html' title='Let it snow'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1437261281123580900</id><published>2010-01-28T01:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T02:30:54.837-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Local Mechanics render the Internet obsolete</title><content type='html'>No one likes mechanics and y'all know it. They're the worst living creatures on the planet, they're even worst than parasites! they will rob you blind while you're fucking standing there and they'll tell you that they did a nice thing for you while they're secretly laughing their asses off how stupid you are. They might fix the thing that's wrong with your car but they will ruin something else so that you'll come back or even just for the hell of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FhAFc9AYI/AAAAAAAAAfo/Ybfwt2DCAZ4/s1600-h/Roy-Humphries-Auto-Mechanic-681x1024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FhAFc9AYI/AAAAAAAAAfo/Ybfwt2DCAZ4/s320/Roy-Humphries-Auto-Mechanic-681x1024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431729279677038978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fuck youuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So naturally, when your car breaks down, you're more upset about the fact that you have to take your car to the shop than the fact that you're standing in the rain and blocking a freeway with your piece of shit vehicle. Trying to fix it on the spot is useless, cause in case you didn't know so far, fixing cars is very fucking complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FgwaCukfI/AAAAAAAAAfg/d9UgENByR3s/s1600-h/touch-mechanic-video-game-coming-to-nintendo-ds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FgwaCukfI/AAAAAAAAAfg/d9UgENByR3s/s320/touch-mechanic-video-game-coming-to-nintendo-ds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431729010326278642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Japanese dicks making things look easy as usual&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I've decided to do something about this, so I opened the Internet and decided to learn every little detail about the car and possible things that went wrong that led to the car to malfunction. off course i had in mind that they probably had arabized names of the English origin but i thought they'd be as straight forward as Motor and موتور so i could easily figure this shit out. I thought I was a smart ass and well prepared but I forgot they didn't know shit about the word they were actually using, so nothing makes sense anymore and i was totally lost. My example would be is that they call the back axe a بككس which sounds similar, but they call the front axe that as well!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FgRYH0L9I/AAAAAAAAAfY/XoafQkcGhYw/s1600-h/roll_axis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FgRYH0L9I/AAAAAAAAAfY/XoafQkcGhYw/s320/roll_axis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431728477234802642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So I gave up, I let the guy rip me off and settled for the drive of shame back home trying to lie to myself that I wasn't goofed too bad and dreaming that one day there would be a female mechanic were I would be goofed but i won't feel as bad about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FhnihcKHI/AAAAAAAAAfw/CDVXtyMMnzE/s1600-h/woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FhnihcKHI/AAAAAAAAAfw/CDVXtyMMnzE/s320/woman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431729957495384178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Dream on buddy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1437261281123580900?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1437261281123580900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1437261281123580900&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1437261281123580900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1437261281123580900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/local-mechanics-render-internet.html' title='Local Mechanics render the Internet obsolete'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S2FhAFc9AYI/AAAAAAAAAfo/Ybfwt2DCAZ4/s72-c/Roy-Humphries-Auto-Mechanic-681x1024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1735037849495726861</id><published>2010-01-24T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T14:39:39.211-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Crossroads</title><content type='html'>Everybody is still the same, they're just detached more in their own way. Every man for himself, there's no use of trying get back the good old days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no good old days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I too am detached; I'm only dumb enough to acknowledge it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1735037849495726861?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1735037849495726861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1735037849495726861&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1735037849495726861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1735037849495726861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/crossroads.html' title='Crossroads'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5117953878414882562</id><published>2010-01-24T14:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T14:38:09.675-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Is it because you go through certain events that you become to think differently? or is it that those events were so intoxicating that you even forgot who you were before they happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, somethings never should have happened, but they did; Fucking deal with it. You may never know the answer, but please feel free to spend the rest of your life wondering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5117953878414882562?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5117953878414882562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5117953878414882562&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5117953878414882562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5117953878414882562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/is-it-because-you-go-through-certain.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-489825657842238583</id><published>2010-01-21T01:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T01:55:29.129-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>The Two Year Theory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S1gkhdTDsgI/AAAAAAAAAeY/9rS6ghM-PbA/s1600-h/Happy-2nd-Birthday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S1gkhdTDsgI/AAAAAAAAAeY/9rS6ghM-PbA/s320/Happy-2nd-Birthday.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429129508013978114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nut shell this theory generalises the fact that if you were in a committed relationship and it passed the two year mark then that's it, you can spend the rest of your life with this person. It's at this moment that you should stop by and look back at your time together, think of it real careful and decided if you were happy or not, compare the good times against the bad and come out with the decision wether if this is the way of life you want for the rest of your days or not. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly by now, you should know everything about your significant other, all their good traits, their bad habits, the Ex-relationships, responsibility meter, compatibility and whatnot. If you don't feel the need to run away and look for something else then this is what you need. The only thing that could break you apart at this moment is one of two things:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 - one of you made the decision that they have a better image of their lives. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 - when things get serious you're faced with either parental or financial problems. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That said, prepare yourself for both points and you should be fine. I wish you the best of luck and no staying single is not always the answer ... in the words of Chris Rock you can either be "Married and bored or single and lonely" best thing is that you don't always have to be bored when you're married to the right person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-489825657842238583?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/489825657842238583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=489825657842238583&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/489825657842238583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/489825657842238583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/two-year-theory.html' title='The Two Year Theory'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S1gkhdTDsgI/AAAAAAAAAeY/9rS6ghM-PbA/s72-c/Happy-2nd-Birthday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-6489676911693141481</id><published>2010-01-18T03:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T03:58:18.484-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Awkward Moments Part#1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A &lt;a href="http://eqcomics.com/comics/the-story-of-awkward-aaron/"&gt;web comic&lt;/a&gt; I've been following has introduced a character I could totally relate to, Awkward Aaron is his name, and awkward moments are his speciality; He has inspired me to write down awkward moments of my own, maybe that'll ease the tension.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S1RL4mKxc6I/AAAAAAAAAeI/zjBcf7zWffE/s320/Awkward.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428046886578779042" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;- Moment 1:&lt;div&gt;This morning I had to see a girl that I haven't seen in a while, she was suppose to pass by and drop something; i went down to greet her and she came out of the car and gave me a real warm welcome, i thought it was normal since it has been a long time since we've met - naturally i thought a greetings kiss is in order ... so i went for it, while my head was travelling downward to the shake-hand-kiss-cheeks position, I started thinking "Do we usually kiss when we meet or don't we?" and "is that her brother waiting in the passenger seat in the car?" "are her family friendly or are they the conservative type?" ... due to cold weather and the fact that i couldn't remember the answers to most of those questions i pulled out of the kiss .... awkwardly, that was the exactly same moment that she went in for it, finding nothing but air. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to make things more awkward, she waved her arm, and with an awkward laugh uttered "Ah, forget it!" I wanted to ask her how she's been, or if she wanted to have some breakfast, but with all the awkwardness of the situation, i just wanted to get the hell out of there.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Moment 2:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Probably nothing more awkward than Ms Carolina's speech; i'll let her do the talking ... maybe i shouldn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lj3iNxZ8Dww&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lj3iNxZ8Dww&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Moment 3:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, I was on my way out of a bar and I ran into a guy I kinda know, we immediately went into the stop and chat starting with the regular stop&amp;amp;chat questions: "how are you?" "how's work?" "What's new?" by the time I thought i satisfied his stop and chat needs, I gave the exit que with "all right dude, we'll be seein' ya" ... to my surprise that didn't end the situation and he said "ok" and stood there! Apparently, he was waiting for a friend and wanted to extend the stop and chat, but i had no idea what to say ... we stood there for a couple of minutes while he was staring at me and smiling until his friend came and they went off.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-6489676911693141481?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/6489676911693141481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=6489676911693141481&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6489676911693141481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/6489676911693141481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/awkward-moments-part1.html' title='Awkward Moments Part#1'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S1RL4mKxc6I/AAAAAAAAAeI/zjBcf7zWffE/s72-c/Awkward.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-5132131494289283491</id><published>2010-01-13T14:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T14:59:47.840-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>There will be Sorrow...</title><content type='html'>No more ... been long since I posted a song, this wonderful acoustic rendition by Bad Religion's Greg Graffin is simply breath taking, it's not everyday that you see a professor of paleontology rocking out! Wonderful lyrics .. enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PR_P-vpNOuY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PR_P-vpNOuY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-5132131494289283491?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/5132131494289283491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=5132131494289283491&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5132131494289283491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/5132131494289283491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/there-will-be-sorrow.html' title='There will be Sorrow...'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-231932471656911509</id><published>2010-01-09T01:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T01:35:32.569-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Random Thoughts #5</title><content type='html'>- People get what they get, not what they deserve. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- There is no such thing as fate, meant to be or predetermined; everything is just coincidence or a chain of coincidences that steer the way of your life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- If you are doing something you don't enjoy, it is called a job. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Reminiscing is pointless, heartbreaking and unrealistic. Nothing can take you back, reminiscing can only ruin your present. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- If there's something you don't have the time for anymore that's only because it doesn't mean that much to you anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- No matter how good you think you are, there's always someone much much better out there.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Never take candy from strangers, they probably licked it or something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-231932471656911509?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/231932471656911509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=231932471656911509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/231932471656911509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/231932471656911509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-thoughts-5.html' title='Random Thoughts #5'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4713323615181616636</id><published>2010-01-07T01:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T02:32:58.804-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>Judging people according to their drinks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After years of research I have successfully figured how you can label people hanging out together without speaking to them by simply leering at their drinks; each drink carries the chemical characteristics into the blood stream of the host, therefore, people prefer specific drinks to suit their characters*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S0Wu-tTD2jI/AAAAAAAAAdY/peS88OUknig/s320/drink.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423933718572292658" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Saudi Arabia's official drink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The formula goes as follows:&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vodka = Party Animal / Drunk&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Whisky = Sophisticated / wannabe sophisticated&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Any Cocktail = Woman / Gay man&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gin = Sexy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Beer = Sports Fanatic / Unemployed&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brandy = Rich Fuck / Grandfather&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tequila = Horny / Drunk&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Champagne (not in an occasion) = Show off&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wine = Hungry / insomniac&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Martini = Woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;/ Gay man&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Red bull = wishes that it was something else&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Soda = Designated driver&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tea = Old&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can tell guys that drink excessively when their actions transforms into instinct like behaviours: you would notice increase in violence, alpha male dominance attempts and embarrassing whistles and ass grabbing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Women excessive drinkers however are harder to spot with their readiness to dance to the first thing that resembles a beat, off tune singing and sudden chaotic outbursts of laughter**. which resembles their normal everyday behaviour.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; * Scientific Bullshit &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;** More scientific bullshit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4713323615181616636?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4713323615181616636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4713323615181616636&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4713323615181616636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4713323615181616636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/judging-people-according-to-their.html' title='Judging people according to their drinks'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/S0Wu-tTD2jI/AAAAAAAAAdY/peS88OUknig/s72-c/drink.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4066096717997737358</id><published>2010-01-03T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T12:31:35.640-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>New Year's Resolution</title><content type='html'>I'm gonna take it easier on myself ... think less work harder&lt;br /&gt;I'm lucky with the life that I have right now and it could only become better! Time to get over the past and accept what happened can't be changed ... give it a nod and move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention that I'm buying a new kick ass computer xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's gonna be a good year&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4066096717997737358?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4066096717997737358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4066096717997737358&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4066096717997737358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4066096717997737358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-resolution.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolution'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2201305245828717</id><published>2009-12-29T02:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T03:44:10.825-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><title type='text'>Best Movies of 2009</title><content type='html'>A geeky habit of mine, every year i compile a list of the best movies of the year, then go down town buy them all and watch them so that by the time the oscars are showing i would have watched all the nominated movies and even rooting for some people in their categories, this year I've decided to share this list with you, Enjoy :) &lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Where the wild things are&lt;/b&gt; (Director: Spike Jonze; Starring: Max Records)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;This is it&lt;/b&gt; (Michael Jackson; Documentary) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cloudy with a chance of meatballs&lt;/b&gt; (3D animation/Starring: Bill Hader)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;In the loop&lt;/b&gt; (Director: Armando Lannucci/ Starring: Tom Hollander and James Gandolfini)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The September issue&lt;/b&gt; (Director: R.J. Cutler / Documentary)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;It’s complicated&lt;/b&gt; (Director: Nancy Meyers/ Starring: Meryl Streep and Steve Martin)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Duplicity&lt;/b&gt; (D: Tony Gilroy/ S: Julia Roberts and Clive Owen)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ponyo &lt;/b&gt;(2D animation/ Miyazaki Hayao)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The informant&lt;/b&gt; (D: Steven Soderbergh/ S: Matt Damon)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bad lieutenant port of call – new Orleans&lt;/b&gt;( D:Werner Herzog/ S: Nicholas Cage and Eva Mendez)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sherlock Holmes&lt;/b&gt; (D: Guy Richie/ S: Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anvil! The story of anvil &lt;/b&gt;(Documentary) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Julie &amp;amp; Julia&lt;/b&gt; (D: Nora Ephron / S: Meryl Streep and Amy Adams)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Broken Embraces &lt;/b&gt;(Foreign film: Spain)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;A single man &lt;/b&gt;(D: Tom Ford/ S: Colin Firth and Jullianne Moore)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Whip it &lt;/b&gt;(D: Drew Barrymore/ S: Ellen Page)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moon &lt;/b&gt;(D: Duncan Jones / S: Sam Rockwell and Kevin Spacey)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The road &lt;/b&gt;(D: John Hillcoat / S: Viggo Mortensen)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sugar &lt;/b&gt;(D: Anna Boden)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The blind side &lt;/b&gt;(D: John Lee Hancock / S: Sandra Bullock)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Crazy heart &lt;/b&gt;(D: Scott Cooper / S: Jeff Bridges )&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The messenger&lt;/b&gt; (D: Oren Moverman / S: Woody Harrelson)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;A serious man &lt;/b&gt;(D: Cohen brothers / S: Michael Stuhlbarg)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;District 9 &lt;/b&gt;( D: Neil Blomkamp / S: Jason Cope)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nine &lt;/b&gt;( D: Rob Marshal / S: Daniel Day-Lewis and Nicole Kidman) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Invictus &lt;/b&gt;(D: Clint Eastwood / S: Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The princess and the frog &lt;/b&gt;(2D animation) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;(500) days of summer &lt;/b&gt;(D: Marc Webb / S: Joseph Gordon)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Zombieland &lt;/b&gt;(D: Paul Wernick/ S: Woody Harrelson)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The cove &lt;/b&gt;(Documentary)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Coraline &lt;/b&gt;(3D Animatin)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The hangover &lt;/b&gt;(D: Todd Phillips / S: Bradley Cooper )&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Precious &lt;/b&gt;( D: Lee Daniels / S: Gabourey Sidibe)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;An Education &lt;/b&gt;(D: Lone Scherfig / S: Emma Thompson)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The fantastic Mr. Fox &lt;/b&gt;(D: Wes Anderson / S: George Clooney, Meryl Streep and bill Murray)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Avatar &lt;/b&gt;(D: James Cameron/ S: Seagony Weaver)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The hurt locker &lt;/b&gt;(D: Kathryn Bigelow / S: Jeremy Renner) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inglourious basterds&lt;/b&gt; (D: QT/ S: Brad Pit) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Up &lt;/b&gt;( 3D Animation)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Up in the air &lt;/b&gt;(D: Jason Reitman/ S: George Clooney)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Away we go &lt;/b&gt;(D: Sam Mendes / S: John Krasinski) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Whatever works&lt;/b&gt; (D: Woody Allen / S: Larry David)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Brothers &lt;/b&gt;(D: Jim Sheridan / S: Tobey Maguire and Natalie Portman)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amelia &lt;/b&gt;(D: Mira Nair/ S: Hillary Swank and Richard Gere)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Men who stare at goats&lt;/b&gt; (D: Grant Heslov / S: George Clooney and Kevin Spacey)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nowhere boy&lt;/b&gt; (Documentary)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The white ribbon&lt;/b&gt; (Foreign Film Germany)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The last station &lt;/b&gt;(Foreign Film Germany)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The young Victoria&lt;/b&gt; (D: Jean-Marc Vallee/ S: Emily Blunt)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The lovely bones&lt;/b&gt; (D: Peter Jackson / S: Mark Wahlberg and Rachel Weisz) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Baaria &lt;/b&gt;(Foreign Film Italy)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;The maid&lt;/b&gt; (Foreign Film Chile)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;A prophet&lt;/b&gt; (Foreign Film France)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Watchmen &lt;/b&gt;(D: Zack Snyder/ S: Malin Akerman and Jackie Earle Haley)  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                        &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2201305245828717?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2201305245828717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2201305245828717&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2201305245828717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2201305245828717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/best-movies-of-2009.html' title='Best Movies of 2009'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-4867411929282709344</id><published>2009-12-27T03:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T03:20:23.743-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>A champion is born</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SzdC5bhlWeI/AAAAAAAAAcY/cokjX21QRc4/s1600-h/taekwondo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 304px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SzdC5bhlWeI/AAAAAAAAAcY/cokjX21QRc4/s320/taekwondo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419874230972275170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so proud! I really am! Even through all the hardships that she's going through, people who don't believe in her! the internal struggles that she has to go through, the lack of support from the people that loves her, she made it! she proved them all wrong! and came on top victorious!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My little own personal triumph was that the words that I had told her actually made a difference! She listened and knew that I wasn't cynical but true, and She came on top victorious!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So proud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-4867411929282709344?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/4867411929282709344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=4867411929282709344&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4867411929282709344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/4867411929282709344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/champion-is-born.html' title='A champion is born'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SzdC5bhlWeI/AAAAAAAAAcY/cokjX21QRc4/s72-c/taekwondo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-7720032095499545658</id><published>2009-12-24T04:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T04:48:47.052-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You meet different types of people as you go on in life, some of them you like, some of them you can't stand, some you appreciate their company, others you can't get enough of and some that are close enough to you that you consider as friends. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, the rarest breed of people for you to meet are people that INSPIRE you. You could go on a life time without meeting a single person of that sort ... but once you do they greatly influence the way you view your own life and create ways for you to make it better. I was lucky enough to meet several in the most uninspiring of places. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Worst part is, those people don't always know how to inspire themselves, you find yourself helpless now that the tables have turned. They will snap out of it, that much I know for sure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-7720032095499545658?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/7720032095499545658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=7720032095499545658&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7720032095499545658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/7720032095499545658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/inspiration.html' title=''/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2048781550035244711</id><published>2009-12-22T00:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T01:17:31.174-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Use your vocabulary!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Don't ask me why but i notice people's speaking patterns! Even worse, I count! So if someone says "actually" a lot, I'd be counting the times that he/she has said "actually" in a conversation. This weird habit it seems that it annoys the hell out of me without anyone knowing why or even noticing it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SzCM2j-B8HI/AAAAAAAAAcA/SWmFL0q_F_o/s320/count.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 236px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417985220722946162" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Actually that's the first time you said it today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't mean to be the geek that keeps on correcting people; but when someone is telling me a story and it goes like this: so i met this amazing guy and we went to this amazing place and we had an amazing time bla amazing bla! I just fucking flip!!! there are like 10000000 other adjectives that you could use to indicate that you are having a good time! use them for crying out loud! stop torturing me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, some people seem to find certain words "more professional" than others and that becomes their staple! I know a guy that whenever he turns into his 'professional' persona he starts using the word "interesting" to describe EVERY FUCKING THING! I feel as if a little worm starts eating the back of my head and is forcing it's way through my eyelids! NO! IT'S NOT THAT FUCKING INTERESTING! IT'S ACTUALLY AS BORING AS FUCK! And no, it's not really that professional either! I imagine it being said in the most ridiculous of circumstances.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SzCNDaUYERI/AAAAAAAAAcI/nTehYU1P77c/s320/funny-pictures-interesting-cat.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 312px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417985441470615826" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Not really &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Broaden your vocabulary! use more adjectives! and stop posing! nobody likes posers! They suck! and they're definitely not interesting!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2048781550035244711?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2048781550035244711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2048781550035244711&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2048781550035244711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2048781550035244711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/use-youre-vocabulary.html' title='Use your vocabulary!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SzCM2j-B8HI/AAAAAAAAAcA/SWmFL0q_F_o/s72-c/count.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1765796329437218236</id><published>2009-12-17T02:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T03:04:24.879-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SyoPIpxPp9I/AAAAAAAAAbY/L4ggRyM19U8/s1600-h/omax3.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SyoPIpxPp9I/AAAAAAAAAbY/L4ggRyM19U8/s320/omax3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416158143192213458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1765796329437218236?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1765796329437218236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1765796329437218236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1765796329437218236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1765796329437218236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/youre-doing-it-wrong.html' title='YOU&apos;RE DOING IT WRONG!'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SyoPIpxPp9I/AAAAAAAAAbY/L4ggRyM19U8/s72-c/omax3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-3822984921512092277</id><published>2009-12-16T01:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T02:27:42.088-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash Medicine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Men lose their minds speaking to pretty women</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I found a research that actually proves &lt;a href="http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/11/topless-guys.html"&gt;my point&lt;/a&gt;! it shows that men who spend even a few minutes in the company of an attractive woman perform less well in tests designed to measure brain function than those who chat to someone they do not find attractive. Guys literally lose their minds in the presence of an attractive woman!   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SyivVmRMeeI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/g6Dd_sHpJao/s320/shocked1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415771337497803234" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Researchers who carried out the study, published in the Journal of Experimental and Social Psychology, think the reason may be that men use up so much of their brain function or 'cognitive resources' trying to impress beautiful women, they have little left for other tasks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Women, however, were not affected by chatting to a handsome man. This may be simply because men are programmed by evolution to think more about mating opportunities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Psychologists at Radboud University in The Netherlands carried out the study after one of them was so struck on impressing an attractive woman he had never met before, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#66FF99;"&gt;that he could not remember his own fucking address &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;when she asked him where he lived.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SyiutW19TVI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ih66Usrf0hA/s320/how-to-seduce-your-boss-2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415770646162263378" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Well ... I ... Erm ... You're pretty!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To see if other men were affected in the same way, they recruited 40 male heterosexual students. Each one performed a standard memory test then spent seven minutes chatting to male or female members of the research team before repeating the test.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The results showed men were slower and less accurate after trying to impress the women. The more they fancied them, the worse their score. But when the task was repeated with a group of female volunteers, they did not get the same results. Memory scores stayed the same, whether they had chatted to a man or a woman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Psychologist Dr George Fieldman, a member of the British Psychological Society, said the findings reflect the fact that men are programmed to think about ways to pass on their genes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'When a man meets a pretty woman, he is what we call 'reproductively focused' aka 'Horny'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-3822984921512092277?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/3822984921512092277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=3822984921512092277&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3822984921512092277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/3822984921512092277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/men-lose-their-minds-speaking-to-pretty.html' title='Men lose their minds speaking to pretty women'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SyivVmRMeeI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/g6Dd_sHpJao/s72-c/shocked1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-2172948957858642018</id><published>2009-12-13T00:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T04:43:51.025-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><title type='text'>Generation of Liars</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ah yes it's us! and it's the generation that's coming after us! and this would probably go on a while! Due to our society's "high" - ehem choke - moral standards, every teenager was faced with a terrible terrible decision: you either tell the truth and stay home, or lie and go out with your friends, have drinks, hell maybe even a kiss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it's due to that double standard we have now a generation of liars, people who can make up lies on the spot, they remember each and every lie they ever made and they're very very good at it. "where are you?" "oh I'm going to the mall with my friend" while she/he is actually in wadi rum. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SySn3NDOi0I/AAAAAAAAAaw/3FEF3zE55yY/s320/ponocio.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 292px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414637218844019522" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I don't blame us really! I mean our parents were freaks! they don't know what having fun is!! they come from a different time and I totally understand that, their mistakes are however they never wanted to learn about our time, they don't have an open mind no matter how much they try to convince you otherwise and they don't really teach their children that they're on their side , on the contrary children learn to team up to hide truths from their parents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SySoQYZO8QI/AAAAAAAAAa4/f6IwRJ5HD_M/s320/you_lie_emoticon.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 210px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414637651385839874" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The Sweatshirt I don't wanna take off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once raised in fear, something is always going to be missing, you know it, they know it ... but they still plead ignorance anyway ... so you're still going to see the boy who smokes at 15 behind the school's building, the girl who goes out on a date but has to be home by 7pm, the girl who's cell phone never seems to shut up yet she 'doesn't hear it' ...etc etc. It's all because trust is gone and we were literally on our own for a long time now ... Parents just don't realize that yet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I'm going to go for you for help and you're going to punish me, why would I tell you anything to begin with?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, you reap the harvest that you've sown, and because of you there's not a single person that tells the truth no more; It's more like breathing now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-2172948957858642018?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/2172948957858642018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=2172948957858642018&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2172948957858642018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/2172948957858642018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/generation-of-liars.html' title='Generation of Liars'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SySn3NDOi0I/AAAAAAAAAaw/3FEF3zE55yY/s72-c/ponocio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971363627726997156.post-1223778444793775580</id><published>2009-12-08T02:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T02:53:11.128-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slash philosophy'/><title type='text'>list of disgusting things to throw at someone</title><content type='html'>Don't ask me why, but here I have compiled a list of the 10 most disgusting things one person can throw at another; you are definitely allowed to say ewwwww every once in a while and by all means if you think of something i haven't, share:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;10 - Chewed gum &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;09 - Rotten egg&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;08 - A frog &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;07 - Smelly socks &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;06 - Nose blown tissue &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;05 - Wet Toilet Brush&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;04 - A headless chicken &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;03 - stool sample container&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;02 - Diaper &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;01 - Used condom &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3971363627726997156-1223778444793775580?l=slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/feeds/1223778444793775580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3971363627726997156&amp;postID=1223778444793775580&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1223778444793775580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3971363627726997156/posts/default/1223778444793775580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://slash-autobiography2.blogspot.com/2009/12/list-of-disgusting-things-to-throw-at.html' title='list of disgusting things to throw at someone'/><author><name>Slash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04827980233673119094</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LJTQPNJ1GMM/SwRoiTktvTI/AAAAAAAAAW0/T68oCK8eoUw/S220/fwzzi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
