<?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-7707389677403004977</id><updated>2011-12-06T10:10:31.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TallBlondeAndMarried</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7707389677403004977/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Classy and Sassy Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02726053549552602367</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>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7707389677403004977.post-6368679198399565470</id><published>2007-06-10T10:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T11:05:42.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog tagness</title><content type='html'>Kelly Has Blog Tagged me...whatever the hell that is about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Word Answers:&lt;br /&gt;Yourself: Fat&lt;br /&gt;Your Partner: Pissed&lt;br /&gt;Your Hair: Medium&lt;br /&gt;Your Mother:Walking&lt;br /&gt;Your Father: Love&lt;br /&gt;Your Favorite Item: Phone&lt;br /&gt;Your Dream Last Night: Unmemorable&lt;br /&gt;Your Favorite Drink: Wine&lt;br /&gt;Your Dream Car: Electric&lt;br /&gt;Your Dream Home: Paid&lt;br /&gt;The Room You Are In: Living&lt;br /&gt;Your Fear: Hurricanes&lt;br /&gt;You Want To Be In 10 Years: Alive&lt;br /&gt;Who You Hung Out With Last Night: Friends&lt;br /&gt;Your Not: Trashy&lt;br /&gt;One Of Your Wishlist Items: money&lt;br /&gt;The Last Thing You Did: Showered&lt;br /&gt;You Are Wearing: Panties&lt;br /&gt;Your Favorite Weather: Autumn&lt;br /&gt;Your Favorite Book: None&lt;br /&gt;Last Thing You Ate: Cheerios&lt;br /&gt;Your life: Funfilled&lt;br /&gt;Your Mood: Pissed&lt;br /&gt;Your Best Friend: Billy&lt;br /&gt;What Are You Thinking About Right Now:Army&lt;br /&gt;Your Car: Durango&lt;br /&gt;What Are You Doing At The Moment: Pooping&lt;br /&gt;Relationship Status: Married&lt;br /&gt;What Is On Your TV: nothing&lt;br /&gt;What Is The Weather Like: Sunny&lt;br /&gt;When Is The Last Time You Laughed: Yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not tagging anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7707389677403004977-6368679198399565470?l=imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/feeds/6368679198399565470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7707389677403004977&amp;postID=6368679198399565470&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7707389677403004977/posts/default/6368679198399565470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7707389677403004977/posts/default/6368679198399565470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-tagness.html' title='Blog tagness'/><author><name>Classy and Sassy Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02726053549552602367</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-7707389677403004977.post-1966666949833391603</id><published>2007-06-09T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T20:29:05.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog for free....Any takers?!?!?</title><content type='html'>Ah well yes since I have had a few request to add another damn blog I had one all ready to go until today. So here is my newest rant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have a dog, no wait correction, my Husband has a dog. He is a very sweet and loving little beagle named Baxter Bean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;McDoogle&lt;/span&gt;! A very strong name for a pup I know. We adopted him a few months ago from the pound for $53, But I will give someone else $53 to take him away from here. I hate, wait no no that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; express my true feelings, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;HATE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; this damn dog. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Somebody&lt;/span&gt; please take him before I kill him and really go to jail for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;animal&lt;/span&gt; cruelty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; About 2 months ago he got locked into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ashtons&lt;/span&gt; room after we went out one day. We came back at night, and had found him stuck in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ashtons&lt;/span&gt; bedroom still, and he had tried to dig his way out! Dig his dam way out of a bedroom...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;DUMBASS&lt;/span&gt; DOG. So needless to say he ate the carpet and now we have a HUGE hole in the carpet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We have done really well about shutting all the doors when we leave so we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; have a repeat of the carpet muncher. And today when we left I made sure I went and closed all the doors in the hallway. We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Stellas&lt;/span&gt;, hung out for a long while, and came home around 8. We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; had a problem with the dog going potty in the house, so I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; worried about it. I brought the girls in to their r&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ooms&lt;/span&gt;, and as I flipped on the light in the hall and started walking down THERE IS ANOTHER FUCKING HOLE. The dumb ass dog tried to dig his way into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Ashtons&lt;/span&gt; room. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;?!?!? No seriously, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;???? What kind of dumb ass dog is this? I hate him...HATE HIM. So now someone needs to take him, or he will go back to the pound and be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;euthanized&lt;/span&gt;. He is an older dog and we got him right before they were going to get rid of him, so unless you all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; want him to die someone come get him from my house. I hate this dog &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; damn much. TAKE HIM. Oh and my husband called tonight and agreed we need to get rid of him and then called me a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;dumb ass&lt;/span&gt; for writing a blog about it. So no one tell him where this is located or he will never let me hear the end of it. He also said if I wanted to out gay myself I should hook up the web cam and do a skit about the dog....sweet idea. Internet fame here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7707389677403004977-1966666949833391603?l=imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/feeds/1966666949833391603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7707389677403004977&amp;postID=1966666949833391603&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7707389677403004977/posts/default/1966666949833391603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7707389677403004977/posts/default/1966666949833391603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/2007/06/dog-for-freeany-takers.html' title='Dog for free....Any takers?!?!?'/><author><name>Classy and Sassy Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02726053549552602367</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7707389677403004977.post-425755583224795014</id><published>2007-05-31T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T15:16:57.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Commissary Story, IHAVETHREEKIDS</title><content type='html'>Let me first start by saying that within the past 2 days I have decided that maybe I do have a few things I could blog about, but most of it will just be bitching. My husband &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; here right now to harass, so I have to do my bitching elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so as for the commissary, who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; love their low prices, and awesome coupon deals? I mean I can save so much when I shop there. I have noticed the prices are getting a bit higher b/c of the gas situations, but hey I know it is way cheaper than a normal store! So I have put up with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;baggers&lt;/span&gt; who need there tips, the bitch cashiers who sometimes talk your ear off, and the influx of old people who hog the aisles and walk so damn slow.&lt;br /&gt; Now I needed a few groceries to tide me over for a while so I could make sandwiches and bowls of cereal. I decided to take all 3 kids, and since our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;suv&lt;/span&gt; guzzles the gas I decided to take the Minerva mobile, that will be a whole other blog. The downside to taking a car is that I either have room for grocery's or a double stroller, so the groceries won! That means I have to now take all three kids in and since the girls are on shoe strike I have to carry them, both, on my hips, at the same time. While &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ashton&lt;/span&gt; runs behind me. So we get a decent spot for me to carry everyone and their mother into the store, and I am praying there is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;racecar&lt;/span&gt; there so I can get them all in one cart! Alas there is one that a sweet old man brings over to me and says this would help me out, and then tries to buckle in Abbey. But she is having none of that, so I buckle in Mia, and I squat down to strap down Abbey. As I am doing this a second old man is pushing a butt load of carts over and pulling a spare behind him. He pushes the spare ahead and it flies into me as I am squatting. I fall over a bit, and then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sorry&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;maam&lt;/span&gt; happens....WRONG. The jack ass says nothing, so I said OWE, and still nothing. JACKASS OLD FART!!!!!&lt;br /&gt; So we go about our shopping. A case &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;koolaid&lt;/span&gt; juice boxes on sale for $4 woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;shrek&lt;/span&gt; snacks, awesome, and a 2 pound bag of cookies for $1.50. Man life is sweet. We get in the very short line and I walk right up to the next cashier available who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;surprisingly&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;doesnt&lt;/span&gt; harass me about my damn id which is always at the bottom of the cart. And you know when they ask they wont ring up your groceries until they see that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;frickin&lt;/span&gt; id card. But she is very sweet and reminds me about my coupons. I get my half paper and half plastic, the way I want it, and all is good in the world. $130, not bad for me. So I get my tip ready so I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; have to when I get to the car. Now remember the car cart that so wonderfully fits all 3 of my kids?!?!?!?! Well I generally take my cart back to the front like a good girl, but all the extra &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;baggers&lt;/span&gt; are standing in my way so I cant put my cart back. So I figure it will be easier on me to just walk it out to my car and return it when I am done. As I start for the door all those extra &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;baggers&lt;/span&gt; start yelling "YOU CANT TAKE THE CART OUTSIDE" So wait saying sorry b/c you plowed me over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;isnt&lt;/span&gt; allowed, and neither is taking the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;flippin&lt;/span&gt; cart out to your car. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;politely&lt;/span&gt; say Yes well I have 3 kids, and I will bring it back when I am done, but whoa no I should have just said I was a terrorist, b/c that is just unacceptable. "No you cant take the cart out of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;buliding&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;maam&lt;/span&gt;." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt; they are all saying it to me, and they are all still standing in my damn way, so what do I do?!?!?!!?!  I again say to them I have three kids and I cant watch them all in the busy parking lot, I will bring the cart right back. But yet again I am told carts are not allowed out of the building. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;IHAVETHREEKIDS&lt;/span&gt; I yelled, but to no avail the world will indeed implode if a cart leaves the store. I end up leaving it right there, and grabbing my 2 girls one on each hip with my son yelling I have to pee mom I have to pee, and I proceed out the door. And those sweet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;baggers&lt;/span&gt; all say, "wow 2 babies at a time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; impressive." Well fuck faces you gave me no other choice. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; want to hear how strong I am I want you to work for your damn tip and help me out. So I am literally running to the car like a mad woman b/c Ash has to pee, and the girls are damn heavy. I know I carried them in that way, but I am now further from the car, and I have been in a store with 3 kids for an hour. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;flippin&lt;/span&gt; tired people! So the little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;ching&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;chang&lt;/span&gt; is trying to run behind me, and yes I said it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;ching&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;chang&lt;/span&gt; b/c she pissed me off with the cart crap too, and I put Mia on the trunk and try to buckle Abbey in, while listening to Mom I really have to pee NOW. She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;changs&lt;/span&gt; her way over to watch Mia, but by then her tip is gone! Ashton starts crying b/c he has to pee, so I grab Mia, walk him to the other side of the car and tell him to pee in the parking lot. 8 gallons of pee later he is done and I buckle him in. Finally she is done and I get in my car and start it up. I think she got the hint that there was no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;ching&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;chang&lt;/span&gt; change coming from me, so looks like it will be a night of love you long time to make up the difference.&lt;br /&gt; As for the other old farts, I will remember you, and come near my groceries I will tell you to bag your best b/c there will be no tip involved b/c I cant get an apology or help with my kids. In case they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; know, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;IHAVETHREEKIDS&lt;/span&gt;!!!!! Damn you Stella for making me start this  and making me relive the moments of the other day again. I am all fired up about this. Who can I contact to complain about all this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7707389677403004977-425755583224795014?l=imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/feeds/425755583224795014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7707389677403004977&amp;postID=425755583224795014&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7707389677403004977/posts/default/425755583224795014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7707389677403004977/posts/default/425755583224795014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjustlikeyoubutbetter.blogspot.com/2007/05/commissary-story-ihavethreekids.html' title='Commissary Story, IHAVETHREEKIDS'/><author><name>Classy and Sassy Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02726053549552602367</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>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
