<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551</id><updated>2009-10-21T22:24:51.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life on the run...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-1771544005679734083</id><published>2007-06-06T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T05:29:30.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I do...(remember this is only humor...)</title><content type='html'>Before the marriage:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: Yes. At last. It was so hard to wait.&lt;br /&gt;She: Do you want me to leave?&lt;br /&gt;He: NO! Don't even think about it.&lt;br /&gt;She: Do you love me?&lt;br /&gt;He: Of course!&lt;br /&gt;She: Have you ever cheated on me?&lt;br /&gt;He: NO! Why you even asking?&lt;br /&gt;She: Will you kiss me?&lt;br /&gt;He: Yes!&lt;br /&gt;She: Will you hit me?&lt;br /&gt;He: No way! I'm not such kind of person!&lt;br /&gt;She: Can I trust you?&lt;br /&gt;He: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;She : Dear !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now after the marriage you can read it from bottom to top!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-1771544005679734083?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/1771544005679734083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=1771544005679734083' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/1771544005679734083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/1771544005679734083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-doremember-this-is-only-humor.html' title='I do...(remember this is only humor...)'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-2882582300045105389</id><published>2007-05-29T01:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T01:44:23.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9 Things I Hate About Everyone</title><content type='html'>1. People who point at their wrist while asking for the time.... I&lt;br /&gt; know where my watch is pal, where the hell is yours? Do I point at my&lt;br /&gt; crotch when I ask where the toilet is? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 2 People who are willing to get off their ass to search the entire&lt;br /&gt; room for the T.V. remote because they refuse to walk to the T.V. and&lt;br /&gt; change the channel manually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 3 When people say "Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too".&lt;br /&gt; Damn right! What good is cake if you can't eat it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 4 When people say "it's always the last place you look". Of course it &lt;br /&gt; is. Why the hell would you keep looking after you've found it? Do&lt;br /&gt; people do this? Who and where are they? Gonna Kick their asses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 5 When people say while watching a film "did you see that?". No Loser, &lt;br /&gt; I paid 12,000= to come to the cinema and stare at the damn floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 6 People who ask "Can I ask you a question?".... Didn't really give me&lt;br /&gt; a choice there, did ya sunshine? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 7. When something is 'new and improved!' Which is it? If it's new,&lt;br /&gt; then there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement,&lt;br /&gt; then there must have been something before it, couldn't be new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 8 When people say "life is short". What the hell?? Life is the longest &lt;br /&gt; damn thing anyone ever does!! What can you do that's longer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 9 When you are waiting for the bus and someone asks "Has the bus come&lt;br /&gt; yet?". If the bus came would I be standing here, dumbass?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-2882582300045105389?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/2882582300045105389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=2882582300045105389' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2882582300045105389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2882582300045105389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/05/9-things-i-hate-about-everyone.html' title='9 Things I Hate About Everyone'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-6441461564393610664</id><published>2007-05-16T02:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T21:14:03.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A pic is worth 1000 words...this is what 'Walk the World' was all about..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/RkrLczyPBjI/AAAAAAAAABk/y9FomkP_9Ag/s1600-h/hunger.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/RkrLczyPBjI/AAAAAAAAABk/y9FomkP_9Ag/s400/hunger.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065084426729227826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-6441461564393610664?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/6441461564393610664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=6441461564393610664' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/6441461564393610664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/6441461564393610664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/05/pic-is-worth-1000-wordsthis-is-what.html' title='A pic is worth 1000 words...this is what &apos;Walk the World&apos; was all about..'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/RkrLczyPBjI/AAAAAAAAABk/y9FomkP_9Ag/s72-c/hunger.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-2535869214275161984</id><published>2007-05-06T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T23:58:16.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All in the name of being cool...</title><content type='html'>Leroy from Port Antonio always wanted to look cool.&lt;br /&gt;His friend told&lt;br /&gt;him that he needed a good designer&lt;br /&gt;pair of sneakers&lt;br /&gt;to go with his sweat-suit.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Leroy saved up&lt;br /&gt;all his pay slips and all the money&lt;br /&gt;he got back from&lt;br /&gt;returning his empty bottles of Red&lt;br /&gt;Stripe and&lt;br /&gt;finally managed to get himself a pair of&lt;br /&gt;brilliant white&lt;br /&gt;sneakers to go with his sweat-suit.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Proudly, he&lt;br /&gt;strutted down the street calling out to&lt;br /&gt;all the passers&lt;br /&gt;by "See meh new sneakers dem?&lt;br /&gt;Cool, eh?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;One fine&lt;br /&gt;upstanding gentleman pointed out that&lt;br /&gt;they were indeed&lt;br /&gt;a fine pair of sneakers but was&lt;br /&gt;young Leroy aware&lt;br /&gt;that he had a lace undone?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Leroy scornfully&lt;br /&gt;retorted that it was part of being&lt;br /&gt;cool to have a&lt;br /&gt;trailing lace and that on the bottom&lt;br /&gt;of the sneakers&lt;br /&gt;there were instructions for the&lt;br /&gt;wearer to only&lt;br /&gt;have one lace tied.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When asked for&lt;br /&gt;proof of this instruction, Leroy&lt;br /&gt;took off his&lt;br /&gt;sneakers and held it upside down for&lt;br /&gt;the disbeliever&lt;br /&gt;to read.&lt;br /&gt;"There y'are! It&lt;br /&gt;clearly says ...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"TAIWAN."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-2535869214275161984?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/2535869214275161984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=2535869214275161984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2535869214275161984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2535869214275161984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/05/all-in-name-of-being-cool.html' title='All in the name of being cool...'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-2807328005348121880</id><published>2007-04-01T23:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T21:14:04.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And to think we're the only ones who need divine intervention...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/RhCpsJwO_8I/AAAAAAAAABc/xk8zXpqiNJ4/s1600-h/ShowLetter.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/RhCpsJwO_8I/AAAAAAAAABc/xk8zXpqiNJ4/s400/ShowLetter.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048721758279892930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-2807328005348121880?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/2807328005348121880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=2807328005348121880' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2807328005348121880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2807328005348121880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/04/and-to-think-were-only-ones-who-need.html' title='And to think we&apos;re the only ones who need divine intervention...'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/RhCpsJwO_8I/AAAAAAAAABc/xk8zXpqiNJ4/s72-c/ShowLetter.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-2752975327741188899</id><published>2007-03-29T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:13:13.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some thing about living in 2007</title><content type='html'>1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.&lt;br /&gt;3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.&lt;br /&gt;4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.&lt;br /&gt;5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is&lt;br /&gt;that they don't have e-mail addresses.&lt;br /&gt;6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if&lt;br /&gt;anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.&lt;br /&gt;7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the&lt;br /&gt;screen.&lt;br /&gt;8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have&lt;br /&gt;the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for&lt;br /&gt;panic and you turn around to go and get it.&lt;br /&gt;10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your&lt;br /&gt;coffee.&lt;br /&gt;11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )&lt;br /&gt;12. You're reading this and nodding and laughing.&lt;br /&gt;13. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.&lt;br /&gt;14. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on&lt;br /&gt;this list AND NOW YOU ARE LAUGHING at yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-2752975327741188899?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/2752975327741188899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=2752975327741188899' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2752975327741188899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2752975327741188899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/some-thing-about-living-in-2007.html' title='Some thing about living in 2007'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-8866666702431849156</id><published>2007-03-25T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T21:14:04.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/Rgds18sayGI/AAAAAAAAABQ/VDxZZT6EKYE/s1600-h/image001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/Rgds18sayGI/AAAAAAAAABQ/VDxZZT6EKYE/s400/image001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046121581573228642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-8866666702431849156?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/8866666702431849156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=8866666702431849156' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/8866666702431849156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/8866666702431849156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/oh-life.html' title='Oh life...'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/Rgds18sayGI/AAAAAAAAABQ/VDxZZT6EKYE/s72-c/image001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-2316543946792298822</id><published>2007-03-22T04:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T04:07:54.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Different sides of the same coin...</title><content type='html'>1. THINGY (thing-ee) n.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female...... Any part under a car's hood.&lt;br /&gt;Male..... The strap fastener on a woman's bra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. VULNERABLE (vul-ne-ra-bel) adj.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female.... Fully opening up one's self emotionally to another.&lt;br /&gt;Male.... Playing cricket without a box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. COMMUNICATION (ko-myoo-ni-kay-shon) n.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female... The open sharing of thoughts and feelings with one's partner.&lt;br /&gt;Male... Leaving a note before taking off on a fishing trip with the boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. COMMITMENT (ko-mit-ment) n.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female.... A desire to get married and raise a family.&lt;br /&gt;Male...... Trying not to hit on other women while out with this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. ENTERTAINMENT (en-ter-tayn-ment) n.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female.... A good movie, concert, play or book.&lt;br /&gt;Male...... Anything that can be done while drinking beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. FLATULENCE (flach-u-lens) n.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female.... An embarrassing by product of indigestion.&lt;br /&gt;Male...... A source of entertainment, self-expression, male bonding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. MAKING LOVE (may-king luv) n.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female...... The greatest expression of intimacy a couple can achieve.&lt;br /&gt;Male..……….Call it whatever you want, just as long as we do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. REMOTE CONTROL (ri-moht kon-trohl) n.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female.... A device for changing from one TV channel to another.&lt;br /&gt;Male........ A device for scanning through all 375 channels every 5 minutes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-2316543946792298822?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/2316543946792298822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=2316543946792298822' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2316543946792298822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/2316543946792298822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/different-sides-of-same-coin.html' title='Different sides of the same coin...'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-8521713452937355577</id><published>2007-03-21T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T01:58:57.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flirt</title><content type='html'>Driving home from work yesterday i'm tuned to 88.2 drowning in the tunes of R.Kelly's latest venture.."I'm a flirt" this guy's a muscial genius period!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This got me reminiscing bout the days we'd club on a regular...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scene: Ange sunday nite...walk in solo..checkout the crowd..packed..(wonder wat kind of line of work these chaps are in!..i was on leave at the time)head straight for the bar n order maself a jack daniels on the rocks. I spot a cousin of mine..he assures me how he's calling in sick t'moro and we settle down do some kb. As i scan the crowd..gyrating bodies, couples in dark corners all over eachother like extras in a snoop video..and suddenly &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i notice this fly young chic(of pouty lips, doe eyes)..but something was just not right! she was seated next to wat luked like a 'top management multinational corporate' type the kind that imagines a pretty gal as an accessory to all he's got..but damn she looked BORED! (i mean why on earth do you take someone to the club and just sit, drink and stare at all them party animals do their thing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to make my nite interesting and flirt with her from across the bar...managed to get her number...(she happenned to know a friend of mine who was in club too) With her number in hand i send her a quick sms...the vibrator on her fone startles her out of her thoughts...she reads the msg puzzled who the author is..scans the crowd and lands straight into my stare..makes a quick side glace at mr management who seems to be in his own world, looks back and gives me this cheeky conspiratory smile..that was the beginning..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He steps off to the loo and i head in her direction, a quicky introduction went down, she tells me how shes in club with her friends but the've scattered all over the place..Mr management walks back in...im introduced as her cousin(well for the nite atleast)..he offers a drink.."i'll have a JD on the rocks plse"..say ma goodbyes n head back to the bar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while she walks up and says can we dance...we hit the floor, mingle with all those hot sweaty bodies..get lost in the trance..do the shuffle..Mr management's not looking happy..she wispers into ma ear how she's just gotta find a way of leaving without him..well who i'm i to say no...plot a quick exit strategy and head for the parking lot..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 mins later out of the club she comes running...and we're out...(i'll leave the rest to yo imagination..) and no wat yo thinking didn't happen..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn i notice ive been daydreaming a jam piled up behind me and this pot-bellied trafic cop walking towards me waving a finger! i snap back into reality..mumble my apologies to him with a background noise of blaring horns and i'm off...&lt;a href="http://www.requestlyrics.com/read.php?1,782843,782861"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-8521713452937355577?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.requestlyrics.com/read.php?1,782843,782861' title='Flirt'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/8521713452937355577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=8521713452937355577' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/8521713452937355577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/8521713452937355577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/flirt.html' title='Flirt'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-5691041251375442643</id><published>2007-03-20T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T04:28:34.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This had me in stitches!</title><content type='html'>One day I met a sweet gentleman and fell in love. When&lt;br /&gt;it became apparent&lt;br /&gt;that we would marry, I relaxed and enjoyed the ecstasy&lt;br /&gt;of the friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some months later, on my birthday, my car broke down&lt;br /&gt;on the way home from&lt;br /&gt;work. Since I lived in the countryside I called my&lt;br /&gt;husband and told him&lt;br /&gt;that I would be late because I had to walk home. On my&lt;br /&gt;way, I passed by a&lt;br /&gt;small diner and the odor of baked beans was more than&lt;br /&gt;I could stand. With&lt;br /&gt;miles to walk, I figured that I would walk off any ill&lt;br /&gt;effects by the time I&lt;br /&gt;reached home, so I stopped at the diner and before I&lt;br /&gt;knew it, I had consumed&lt;br /&gt;three large orders of baked beans. All the way home, I&lt;br /&gt;made sure that I&lt;br /&gt;released ALL the gas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon my arrival, my husband seemed excited to see me&lt;br /&gt;and exclaimed&lt;br /&gt;delightedly: "Darling I have a surprise for dinner&lt;br /&gt;tonight!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then blindfolded me and led me to my chair at the&lt;br /&gt;dinner table. I took a&lt;br /&gt;seat and just as he was about to remove my blindfold,&lt;br /&gt;the telephone rang.&lt;br /&gt;He made me promise not to touch the blindfold until he&lt;br /&gt;returned and went&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to answer the call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baked beans I had consumed were still affecting me&lt;br /&gt;and the pressure was&lt;br /&gt;becoming most unbearable, so while my husband was out&lt;br /&gt;of the room I seized&lt;br /&gt;the opportunity, shifted my weight to one leg and let&lt;br /&gt;one go. It was not&lt;br /&gt;only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck&lt;br /&gt;running over a skunk in&lt;br /&gt;front of a pulpwood mill. I took my napkin from my lap&lt;br /&gt;and fanned the air&lt;br /&gt;around me vigorously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, shifting to the other cheek, I ripped off three&lt;br /&gt;more. The stink was&lt;br /&gt;worse than cooked cabbage!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keeping my ears carefully tuned to the conversation in&lt;br /&gt;the other room, I&lt;br /&gt;went on like this for another few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pleasure was indescribable. When eventually the&lt;br /&gt;telephone farewells&lt;br /&gt;signaled the end of my freedom, I quickly fanned the&lt;br /&gt;air a few more times&lt;br /&gt;with my napkin, placed it on my lap and folded my&lt;br /&gt;hands back on it feeling&lt;br /&gt;very relieved and pleased with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My face must have been the picture of innocence when&lt;br /&gt;my husband returned,&lt;br /&gt;apologizing for taking so long. He asked me if I had&lt;br /&gt;peeked through the&lt;br /&gt;blindfold, and I assured him I had not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, he removed the blindfold, and twelve&lt;br /&gt;dinner guests seated&lt;br /&gt;around the table chorused: "Happy Birthday!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fainted!!!!!!!!!!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your attitudes and the choices you make today, build&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the "house" you live in tomorrow.Build wisely!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-5691041251375442643?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/5691041251375442643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=5691041251375442643' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/5691041251375442643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/5691041251375442643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-had-me-in-stitches.html' title='This had me in stitches!'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-9090442936207027062</id><published>2007-03-20T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T21:14:04.725-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are u shy..?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/Rf-NW8sayFI/AAAAAAAAABI/E5OitD6uyXM/s1600-h/image001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/Rf-NW8sayFI/AAAAAAAAABI/E5OitD6uyXM/s400/image001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043905533067315282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have feelings of inadequacy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnnie Walker ® is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident&lt;br /&gt;about yourself and your actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnnie Walker ® can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the&lt;br /&gt;world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will notice the benefits of Johnnie Walker ® almost immediately, and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent&lt;br /&gt;you from living the life you want to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past, and you will discover&lt;br /&gt;many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with&lt;br /&gt;Johnnie Walker ®.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnnie Walker ® may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or&lt;br /&gt;nursing should not use Johnnie Walker ®.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are&lt;br /&gt;encouraged to try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic&lt;br /&gt;lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing,&lt;br /&gt;loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing,&lt;br /&gt;headache, dehydration, dry mouth,&lt;br /&gt;and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker,&lt;br /&gt;Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister, Spin the Bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnnie Walker ®.... Leave Shyness Behind!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-9090442936207027062?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/9090442936207027062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=9090442936207027062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/9090442936207027062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/9090442936207027062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/are-u-shy.html' title='Are u shy..?'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEP6hjYltSg/Rf-NW8sayFI/AAAAAAAAABI/E5OitD6uyXM/s72-c/image001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-6801768908346892072</id><published>2007-03-06T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T21:52:48.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An alcoholic's dictionary...</title><content type='html'>A is for alcohol - our drug of choice.&lt;br /&gt;B is for beer, yes beer, it's what's for dinner (sometimes lunch and breakfast too).&lt;br /&gt;C is for can - 6 pack. 12 pack, 24 pack, 30 pack, 40 oz.... so many choices!&lt;br /&gt;D is for drinking - that's what we like to do.&lt;br /&gt;E is for emergency (Definition: an emergency is when you're all out of alcohol).&lt;br /&gt;F is for friends (beats drinking alone and maybe you can get them to pick up the tab).&lt;br /&gt;G is for games, preferably anything involving cards, quarters, and chugging beers.&lt;br /&gt;H is for hang over - every good time has it's price.&lt;br /&gt;I is for ice, "I'll take that on the rocks please".&lt;br /&gt;J is for jail which is where you might end up after trying to use a fake ID, try driving a car when you can't even see, or are found on the street staggering home at 4 am.&lt;br /&gt;K is for keg!&lt;br /&gt;L is for liquor - many many to choose from.&lt;br /&gt;M is for money you no longer have due to extensive partying.&lt;br /&gt;N is for NOT AGAIN! (What you scream when you wake up besides someone you don't know).&lt;br /&gt;O is for opinion (ever met a drunk without one?) also it's for a common phrase "OH SH*T!" which you scream as you fall down the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;P is for pee (what you have to do about every 5-10 minutes while drinking).&lt;br /&gt;Q is for quarters - a great drinking game, it's also for the quilt that you puked on last night and have to clean in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;R is for reform, which you promise god that you'll do as you find yourself hugging the toilet bowl.&lt;br /&gt;S is for sex - after a few drinks people start looking a lot better than they really are, so be careful..&lt;br /&gt;T is for twenty-four, 24 beers in a case, 24 hours in a day... coincidence?? I think not.&lt;br /&gt;U is for underage (A good percentage of the drinking population).&lt;br /&gt;V is for vodka - the mother of all alcohol and the best way to make Jello.&lt;br /&gt;W is for worm, the par of tequila that reminds you of the porcelain god.&lt;br /&gt;X is for x-ray, in detox it's how they see into your stomach before they pump it.&lt;br /&gt;Y is for you, the one who drinks way too much.&lt;br /&gt;Z is for Zima - something different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-6801768908346892072?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/6801768908346892072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=6801768908346892072' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/6801768908346892072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/6801768908346892072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/alcoholics-dictionary.html' title='An alcoholic&apos;s dictionary...'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-4985955191471154359</id><published>2007-03-04T22:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T22:28:10.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A personal letter....</title><content type='html'>Dear Alcohol,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect&lt;br /&gt;post-work cocktail, a beer at the game, and you're even around at the&lt;br /&gt;holidays hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the&lt;br /&gt;midst of endless family gatherings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, lately I've been wondering about your intentions. While I do&lt;br /&gt;believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your&lt;br /&gt;influence has led to some unwise consequences: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Phone Calls: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the&lt;br /&gt;suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity take place&lt;br /&gt;after 2am. Why would you make me call those ex's when I know for a fact&lt;br /&gt;they do not want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of&lt;br /&gt;the night? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Eating: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you know I love a good meal, but why do you&lt;br /&gt;suggest that I eat a taco with chili sauce, along with a big Italian&lt;br /&gt;meatball and some stale chips (washed down with WINE and topped off with&lt;br /&gt;a Kit Kat after a few cheese curls and chili fries?) I am an eclectic&lt;br /&gt;eater, but I think you went too far this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Clumsiness: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to&lt;br /&gt;improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to&lt;br /&gt;fall down. It's completely unnecessary and the black &amp; blue makes that&lt;br /&gt;appear on my body mysteriously the next day are beyond me. Similarly, it&lt;br /&gt;should never take more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the&lt;br /&gt;lock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, the hangovers have GOT to stop. This is getting ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in&lt;br /&gt;order, but the 3pmhangover immobility is completely unacceptable. My&lt;br /&gt;entire day is shot. I ask that, if the proper precautions are taken&lt;br /&gt;(water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to sleep/&lt;br /&gt;passing out face down on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn, the&lt;br /&gt;hangover should be minimal and in no way interfere with my daily&lt;br /&gt;activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now and would like&lt;br /&gt;to ensure that we remain on good terms. You have been the invoker of&lt;br /&gt;great stories, the provocation for much laughter and the needed&lt;br /&gt;companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my&lt;br /&gt;pockets. In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully&lt;br /&gt;review my grievances, above and address them immediately. I will look&lt;br /&gt;for an answer no later than Thursday 3pm(pre-happy hour) on your&lt;br /&gt;possible solutions and hopefully we can continue this fruitful&lt;br /&gt;partnership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank-you,&lt;br /&gt;Your Biggest Fan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS Things that are difficult to say when drunk:&lt;br /&gt;1. Innovative&lt;br /&gt;2. Preliminary&lt;br /&gt;3. Proliferation&lt;br /&gt;4. Cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that are very difficult to say when drunk:&lt;br /&gt;1. Specificity&lt;br /&gt;2. British Constitution&lt;br /&gt;3. Passive-aggressive disorder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that are downright impossible to say when drunk:&lt;br /&gt;1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.&lt;br /&gt;2. Nope, no more beer for me.&lt;br /&gt;3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.&lt;br /&gt;4. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?&lt;br /&gt;5. Oh, I couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-4985955191471154359?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/4985955191471154359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=4985955191471154359' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/4985955191471154359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/4985955191471154359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/personal-letter.html' title='A personal letter....'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-8946742847025927973</id><published>2007-03-01T21:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T22:25:39.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My cover's been blown...</title><content type='html'>Last evening was pretty interesting...i decide to take a detour to town after work via the route that goes past the court house, i ran into traffic jams..(well thats expected) and a cordoned off area..guess the "Luzira 23"(hmmm...somehow doesn't sound as appealing as fox river 8) were back in town. I expected to run into a mob with the teargas brigade hot on their heels....had to take a quick side exit...breaking a few traffic rules and head to the Venue...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace atlast...cold club in my hand i pondered my next move..Considering i'd spent a good part of wednesday nite pinting away in Kisimenti i had no plans to stay up late tonite..And then Partner In Crime calls...he's on his way to Stakey, i convince myself it will be a quickie pint if i went there and be out by 11pm..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8pm: I walk into stakeout(wonder if this name came from one of those TV series of the 90's, the beat is on..bodies mingling i tap on KB as i make my way to the crowded lower bar..the "hi's", "whassup".."i've hahad have u seen those stuffs that just walked in.." I get a pint..quickly locate PIC(read partner in crime) and kick of on wats been happning...now here comes the interesting bit..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gud friend of mine ..i'll call him X walks in(he who knows the tru sco) and i remember i saw a pic of him in blogsphere...i bring it up..we talk..laugh..he leaves..and after a couple of mins a PYT walks up to me and says..."Hi r u scofield" ...(hmm im thinking the cat's out of the bag) thought i'd walked into Blogger happy hour but quickly remembered they do their thing at Mateo's it turns out i've just met surprise surprise DEE...(Oh did i mention she ROCKS!) exchanged pleasantries..abit of blog talk and off she dissapeared into the crowd of nodding heads...On the pinting went..the beats grew louder, the crowd thicker..(ever noticed that the more a person takes alcohol the louder they talk) Time check 1am..time to flee...PIC and X in tow we head for the gate and into the dark...(to be continued...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-8946742847025927973?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/8946742847025927973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=8946742847025927973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/8946742847025927973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/8946742847025927973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-covers-been-blown_01.html' title='My cover&apos;s been blown...'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-177751172401701087</id><published>2007-02-26T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T21:12:37.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Firsts....</title><content type='html'>(Assume you are a GIRL IF you are a boy) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's your first time. &lt;br /&gt;As you lie back your muscles tighten. &lt;br /&gt;You put him off for a while searching for an excuse, but he refuses to be swayed as he approaches you. &lt;br /&gt;He asks if you're afraid and you shake your head bravely. &lt;br /&gt;He has had more experience, but it's the first time his finger has found the right place. &lt;br /&gt;He probes deeply and you shiver; your body tenses; but he's gentle like he promised he'd be. He looks deeply within your eyes and tells you to trust him - he's done this many times before. &lt;br /&gt;His cool smile relaxes you and you open wider to give him more room for an easy entrance. &lt;br /&gt;You begin to plead and beg him to hurry, but he slowly takes his time, wanting to cause you as little pain as possible. &lt;br /&gt;As he presses closer,going deeper, you feel the tissue give way; pain surges throughout your body and you feel the slight trickle of blood as he continues. &lt;br /&gt;He looks at you concerned and asks you if it's too painful. &lt;br /&gt;Your eyes are filled with tears but you shake your head and nod for him to go on. &lt;br /&gt;He begins going in and out with skill but you are now too numb to feel him within you. &lt;br /&gt;After a few moments, you feel something bursting within you and he pulls it out of you, you lay panting, glad to have it over. &lt;br /&gt;He looks at you and smiling warmly, tells you, with a chuckle; that you have been his most stubborn yet most rewarding experience. &lt;br /&gt;You smile and thank your dentist. &lt;br /&gt;After all,it was your first time to have a tooth pulled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you were thinking! :)) but really how was yo first?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-177751172401701087?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/177751172401701087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=177751172401701087' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/177751172401701087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/177751172401701087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/02/firsts.html' title='Firsts....'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-3954105344602041807</id><published>2007-02-26T00:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T01:20:02.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday blues....</title><content type='html'>If ever there was a day God should have left out of the weekly calender, this is it!&lt;br /&gt;all i'm left with to ponder is how much of a party i had over the last 2 days...and what a party it was!  Managed to miss work on friday thanks to my partner in crime and not forgetting that DJ..yeah him of the Rock Nite fame at stakey..crawled into my bed at 4am Friday luckly i remembered to set my alarm to 7am just in time to send that.."can't make it..food poisoning" msg..and blackout again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn boss can't gimme a break...brb..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps..checkout this cool blog..http://jaceisnext.blogdrive.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-3954105344602041807?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/3954105344602041807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=3954105344602041807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/3954105344602041807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/3954105344602041807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/02/monday-blues_26.html' title='Monday blues....'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-176154144356425551.post-7423031213407418125</id><published>2007-02-22T00:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T01:04:09.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me pause to pen my thoughts....</title><content type='html'>I must admit..i've been had by this blog thing! if it were the cops, would b back serving my jail term at Fox river..yeah i know u must all be thinking wats with all the prison break talk and all..but hey everyone got to be hooked to something right?..at first it was Karaoke at Alleygators, then on to the matrix and all its remixes..then there was zawadi...fatboyz..UTAKE...a stint at KPC(still trying to figure out how that got in..) and now...THE SERIES...i'm hooked...like a drug addict i roam these dusty streets..harddisk in hand looking for buddies with the latest fix..ohh and then there are those who wait for u every evening to tap on yo high..mbu.."can i have episode 14..." while others moan..."pleeease don't tell me wat happenned!! i'm just on 5" enuf said! ok back to reading all them intresting blogs out there...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/176154144356425551-7423031213407418125?l=scofieldontherun.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/feeds/7423031213407418125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=176154144356425551&amp;postID=7423031213407418125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/7423031213407418125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/176154144356425551/posts/default/7423031213407418125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scofieldontherun.blogspot.com/2007/02/let-me-pause-to-pen-my-thoughts.html' title='Let me pause to pen my thoughts....'/><author><name>Scofield's mind</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18352469588346766004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08066133982835297018'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry></feed>