<?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-10373083</id><updated>2011-09-03T10:02:31.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mighty Steed</title><subtitle type='html'>The Not Very Exciting Yet Surprisingly Wild Adventures of Jason M. Roche</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-112665576838645038</id><published>2005-09-13T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T17:00:01.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a kick start... maybe.</title><content type='html'>THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:&lt;br /&gt;1. Jason&lt;br /&gt;2. Roche&lt;br /&gt;3. Dr. Jason M. Roche (Im the only one who really calls me this and sometimes Natasha- she's a doctor too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE SCREENAMES YOU HAVE HAD:&lt;br /&gt;1. jroche63&lt;br /&gt;2. citytreee&lt;br /&gt;3. rocheburger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:&lt;br /&gt;1. my curly hair&lt;br /&gt;2. my kung fu grip&lt;br /&gt;3. the smell of my own farts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU HATE ABOUT YOURSELF:&lt;br /&gt;1. my hairy feet&lt;br /&gt;2. my red neck&lt;br /&gt;3. the smell of my own farts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:&lt;br /&gt;1. Irish&lt;br /&gt;2. Scottish&lt;br /&gt;3. Mutt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:&lt;br /&gt;1. Bugs&lt;br /&gt;2. Killers&lt;br /&gt;3. Country Music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:&lt;br /&gt;1. books&lt;br /&gt;2. prayer&lt;br /&gt;3. underpants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:&lt;br /&gt;1. t-shirt&lt;br /&gt;2. linen pants&lt;br /&gt;3. Tevas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE MUSICAL ARTISTS:&lt;br /&gt;1. Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;2. Kings of Leon&lt;br /&gt;3. the Doors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:&lt;br /&gt;1. Hidden Agenda- Downright&lt;br /&gt;2. A Mile from Home- Flogging Molly&lt;br /&gt;3. Doorbell- White Stripes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:&lt;br /&gt;1. fly to Chicago&lt;br /&gt;2. keep a journal regularly&lt;br /&gt;3. learn how to juggle knives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (besides love):&lt;br /&gt;1. someone who listens&lt;br /&gt;2. Someone who says interesting things&lt;br /&gt;3. a good person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE: (can you spot the lie?)&lt;br /&gt;1. i once put hawk guts in my mouth for twelve bucks and a pineapple lifesaver&lt;br /&gt;2. i once took a shot of tabasco sauce and accidentally chased it with old milk and then threw up&lt;br /&gt;3. i once threw a piece of meat at someone at work right as my boss walked in front of me and i hit her instead of my target and the meat slip down her check and she started to cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE/SAME SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:&lt;br /&gt;1. eyes&lt;br /&gt;2. smile&lt;br /&gt;3. the sound of a good laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:&lt;br /&gt;1. reading&lt;br /&gt;2. driving&lt;br /&gt;3. Making strong cocktails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:&lt;br /&gt;1. eat&lt;br /&gt;2. clear my throat&lt;br /&gt;3. sit in a hot tub&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE CAREERS YOU WANT:&lt;br /&gt;1. muse&lt;br /&gt;2. teacher&lt;br /&gt;3. copy man, copinator, cop cop copyroo and so on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:&lt;br /&gt;1. Ireland&lt;br /&gt;2. Switzerland&lt;br /&gt;3. Hawaii&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE KIDS NAMES:&lt;br /&gt;1. Sheamus Roche&lt;br /&gt;2. the Kid Roche&lt;br /&gt;3. Hula Girl Roche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:&lt;br /&gt;1. own a convertible&lt;br /&gt;2. go to Vegas&lt;br /&gt;3. go to Ireland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW OR ELSE:&lt;br /&gt;1. if you think this is cool take it&lt;br /&gt;2. if you think this is lame take it&lt;br /&gt;3. really i dont care who takes it my sister asked me to and i thought i needed a new blog&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-112665576838645038?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/112665576838645038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=112665576838645038' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/112665576838645038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/112665576838645038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/09/kick-start-maybe.html' title='a kick start... maybe.'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-112238668808866748</id><published>2005-07-26T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T07:04:48.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Why Why</title><content type='html'>Tiger got to hunt,&lt;br /&gt;Bird got to fly;&lt;br /&gt;Man got to sit and wonder, "Why, why, why?"&lt;br /&gt;Tiger got to sleep,&lt;br /&gt;Bird got to land;&lt;br /&gt;Man got to tell himself he understand.&lt;br /&gt;         - Cat's Cradle, Kurt Vonnegut&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-112238668808866748?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/112238668808866748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=112238668808866748' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/112238668808866748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/112238668808866748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/07/why-why-why.html' title='Why Why Why'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-112136089360589567</id><published>2005-07-14T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T10:08:13.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting</title><content type='html'>i want to. you know i want to, but i have to wait dont worry it will come, it will come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-112136089360589567?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/112136089360589567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=112136089360589567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/112136089360589567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/112136089360589567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/07/waiting.html' title='waiting'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-111345108152068015</id><published>2005-04-13T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T20:58:01.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do You Know?</title><content type='html'>An astronaut and a brain surgeon were once discussing religion. The brain surgeon was a Christian but the astronaut was not. The astronaut said, "I've been out to space many times but I've never seen God or angles" And the brain surgeon said, "And I've operated on many clever brains but I've ever seen a single thought."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flex your muscle with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-111345108152068015?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/111345108152068015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=111345108152068015' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/111345108152068015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/111345108152068015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/04/what-do-you-know.html' title='What Do You Know?'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-111152108185437097</id><published>2005-03-22T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T12:52:20.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone needs a hero.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/205/4283/640/blacksocks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/205/4283/320/blacksocks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be me someday. Take it or leave it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-111152108185437097?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/111152108185437097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=111152108185437097' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/111152108185437097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/111152108185437097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/03/everyone-needs-hero.html' title='Everyone needs a hero.'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-110919601957827771</id><published>2005-02-23T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T14:00:19.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ocean is in a Porch Light</title><content type='html'>Yo!&lt;br /&gt;anyone who has not given Beck a good listen to should. because he is awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather has been beautiful out lately and that also mean the bugs are out and yesterday a bug flew right into my eye I guess my beautiful blues remind them of the ocean or an odd porch light. Either way every year I get at least 3-4 bug flying right into my eye. Anyways I have hated bugs all my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when I go outside and enjoy the wonderful fresh air and cool breeze, I look up at the gorgeous blue sky, and I think: Nothing could be better than this moment right now. Then at that instant a bug flies right into my wide-open eyeball. I often wonder why bugs exist. So far in my life, bugs insects and pretty much anything with an exoskeleton or six to eight legs have done nothing but make me look like a moron. Even though, technically, spiders are arachnids and not insects, they are wonderful at making me look like an idiot. &lt;br /&gt; One fine summer afternoon, I was walking along in the woods with some people I had only shortly before become acquainted. I wandered away from them in search of a tree to serve as a urinal. I walked in between two small pines and I felt it: the web, spun by the devils helper himself, my arachnid enemy. It is hard for me to be nonchalant when a spider web is clinging to my face. I felt fear shoot through my body; it crawled up my spine and flushed my face. I ran. I grabbed at my face. The web came off my face. It was on my arm. I grabbed at my arm. The web was on my other arm. I grabbed at my other arm. All of this done while running and screaming like a girl in a dress who just scraped her knee. When I was finally free from the horrible web the spider had spun, I looked at the faces of my fear-filled companions. They looked as scared as I was, except they did not fear the spider; they were scared of me and how I snapped and went crazy. Even the dog was looking at me like I needed a straight jacket.&lt;br /&gt; Bees are the other insects that strike terror deep into my bug-fearing heart. When I was in high school, there was a bee that chased me every day. The bee was there when I got out of my car every morning, and it would circle me and follow me all the way up to the school building. Given my incredible fear of bees, it was not easy for me to walk from my car into school with I a bee buzzing in my ear lobes. So, I would run. I did receive a good workout every morning with my car-to-school dash. Recently a bee became stuck in my hair. Having a bee stuck in my hair is about as scary as going into a lions den while wearing raw antelope for underpants. I did not want to shake my head, for fear of making the bee angry. Stuck close to my head is no place for an enraged bee, and I did not think my scalp would appreciate a painful bee sting. I tried to brush the bee out with my hand, which went about as fast as a fat, asthmatic kid could run up a flight of stairs. The ferocious bee struck with lighting quick speed and got me on the thumb, and of course I screamed. Everyone in the room whipped their heads up to see who had just been stabbed, only to see me holding my thumb. Pathetic and weak, I told them a bee poked me. The room echoed with laughter.&lt;br /&gt; I also loathe mosquitoes. Before picture day in seventh grade, a mosquito bit me right on the cheekbone, and I had an odd, swollen red area in the middle of my face. I was so upset my picture was going to look awful because of that darned mosquito. My mother offered to put makeup on my face so it would not be so red. Any insect that puts a seventh grade boy in a position where he might have to wear makeup in front of his classmates does not need to exist.&lt;br /&gt; I love this earth and almost all its inhabitants, but in reparation for all the distress and anxiety these bugs have caused me, I step on every spider that crosses my path, I spray poison on every bee that flies around my house, and every mosquito that lands on my arm I slap it like a pimp slaps his hoe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-110919601957827771?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/110919601957827771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=110919601957827771' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110919601957827771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110919601957827771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/02/ocean-is-in-porch-light.html' title='The Ocean is in a Porch Light'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-110903181416264077</id><published>2005-02-21T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T16:55:43.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lion and the Cadillac</title><content type='html'>Fear? I know not fear. There are only moments of confusion. Some of them are deeply stamped on my memory and a few will haunt me forever. &lt;br /&gt; One of my ugliest and most confused moments, I think, was when I was driving a junk Cadillac down the Coast Highway to Big Sur and a large mountain lion jumped into the moving car.&lt;br /&gt; I had stopped for a moment beside the road to put out a newspaper fire in the backseat when this huge cat either jumped or fell off a cliff and landed on its back in the gravel right beside me. I was leaning over the side and pouring beer on the fire when it happened.&lt;br /&gt; It was late in the day, and I was alone. When the beast hit the ground I had a moment of total confusion. And so did the lion. Then I jumped back in the car and took off down the hill in low gear, thinking to escape certain death or a least mutilation.&lt;br /&gt; The beast had tried to pounce on me from above, but missed… And now, as I shifted the junker into second, I heard a terrible snarling (I was, in fact, Terrified at that moment.) …And I think I must have gone temporarily insane when the damn thing came up beside me and jumped right into the car through the passenger-side window like a bomb.&lt;br /&gt; It bounced against the dashboard and somehow turned the radio volume all the way up. Then it clawed me badly on my arm and one leg. That is why I shudder every time I hear a Chuck Berry tune.&lt;br /&gt; I can still smell the beast. I heard myself screaming as I tried to steer. There was blood all over the seat. The music was deafening and the cat was still snarling and clawing at me. Then it scrambled over the seat and into the back, right into the pile of still-burning newspapers. I heard a screech of pain and saw the cat trying to hurl itself through the back window.&lt;br /&gt; We were still rolling along at about thirty miles per hour when I noticed my ball-peen hammer sticking out of the mangled glove compartment.&lt;br /&gt; I grabbed the hammer with my right hand, steering with my left, and swung it wildly over my shoulder at the mountain lion.&lt;br /&gt;Whack! I felt it hit something that felt vaguely like a carton of eggs, and then there was silence. No resistance in the backseat. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt; I hit the brakes and pulled over. My hand was still on the hammer when I looked back and saw that I had somehow hit the animal squarely on top of its head and driven the iron ball right through its skull and into its brain. It was dead. Hunched on its back and filling the whole rear of the car, which was filling up with blood.&lt;br /&gt; I was no longer confused. &lt;br /&gt;-Hunter S. Thompson (1937-2005)&lt;br /&gt;Kingdom of Fear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in Peace and God's Mercy on You Swine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-110903181416264077?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/110903181416264077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=110903181416264077' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110903181416264077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110903181416264077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/02/lion-and-cadillac.html' title='The Lion and the Cadillac'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-110792354063288836</id><published>2005-02-08T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-08T20:42:12.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Show You the Life of a Mind</title><content type='html'> &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what up gangstas. I know its been as long as an elephants dong since iv rapped at ya. Some stuff has happened. Patriots won the super bowl. I smile because I'm a pats fan for life but frown cause the bowl wasn't that super, oh well my team won so I shouldn't complain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking around the other day and I passed by a plethora of recycling bins and I thought of something we haven't yet pushed to be recycled. &lt;em&gt;takes a sip of water &lt;/em&gt;Gum. Why don't we recycle gum? Think about it. Half of gum is rubber and its really sticky. I'm sure we could find some other use for recycled gum. We could make shoe soles with the rubber part or we could fashion some type of gum glue or caulk. I can see it now: Kevin's Gummy Goo Glue or Kevin's caulk, we could even spell caulk with a K. Its brilliant. &lt;em&gt;Kevin has been looking out the window of his office. On the 27th floor of the Horace Grant Hotel. The window is huge it takes up almost 75% of the back wall. Kevin was looking out that window the whole time id been talking and he continued to look out of it when I stopped probably pondering life or something like that. Kevin turns around and opens his mouth:&lt;/em&gt; I don't know if I should stick to you or if I should bounce off you this gum makes me ponder. I'll think about it tomorrow. I'm going to bed now. &lt;em&gt;Kevin walked out the door and nobody ever saw him again. I think he went to Montana. He never talked about Montana but its seems like something he would do.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-110792354063288836?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/110792354063288836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=110792354063288836' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110792354063288836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110792354063288836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/02/ill-show-you-life-of-mind.html' title='I&apos;ll Show You the Life of a Mind'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-110728635143187696</id><published>2005-02-01T11:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-01T11:32:31.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for everything</title><content type='html'>the countdown has begun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-110728635143187696?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/110728635143187696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=110728635143187696' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110728635143187696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110728635143187696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/02/for-everything.html' title='for everything'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-110664439806489958</id><published>2005-01-25T01:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-25T01:13:18.063-08:00</updated><title type='text'>time keeps on slippin</title><content type='html'>Well, here I am. Can’t sleep again. I have always been a night owl, but I never remember not being able to sleep. I have adapted well but sometimes I don’t feel like doing anything but sleep and I can’t do it. I don’t know. I guess I don’t really care I just wish I could clear my head sometimes. Typing and writing and sometimes even talking are hard for me because the thoughts in my head go about one million miles an hour I get side tracked forget and lose focus all the time. It’s a blessing and a cures. Sometimes I think im on the verge of something brilliant but I can’t link my "idea" to anything else or I can’t put my idea into comprehensible words. that part I like most the time because I know what I mean and even though I can’t tell anyone else what im thinking I know what I mean and I feel good. but sometimes ill be typing and type a word and then ponder that word and ill forget the rest of the sentence I was writing. for example in line 1 of this blog I typed the word "remember" and stopped and thought "remember... a member is someone who belongs to something. and the prefix "re" usually means to do something again. so shouldn’t a remember be someone who quit then rejoined" these thoughts of mine are frustrating because a thought like that is fairly dumb. its funny to me for a second, ok maybe three seconds, but thats it! after that I realize its dumb and not witty or clever at all. but what happened is I paused to ponder the word "remember" long enough to forget why I started typing in the first place. I know I didn’t get out of bed to ponder the word "remember" but its what I have on my page so that is what I have to live with. I think I was going to type about numbers or time or some other broad subject of the like. anyways I guess im going to go to bed or at least try. Good night holes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-110664439806489958?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/110664439806489958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=110664439806489958' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110664439806489958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110664439806489958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/01/time-keeps-on-slippin.html' title='time keeps on slippin'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10373083.post-110659955646581416</id><published>2005-01-24T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T12:45:56.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>walking on the sun</title><content type='html'>Today i realized i have never met a die hard Smash Mouth fan. One could probably say that about a lot of bands, but it's too bad such a cool name was wasted on such a crapy band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10373083-110659955646581416?l=citytree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/feeds/110659955646581416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10373083&amp;postID=110659955646581416' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110659955646581416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10373083/posts/default/110659955646581416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://citytree.blogspot.com/2005/01/walking-on-sun.html' title='walking on the sun'/><author><name>The Mighty Steed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06040179417697202431</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
