<?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-1335280846696495039</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:42:11.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Win Chart: Who's Worth Our Time</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-837648470869958830</id><published>2009-04-18T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T16:27:52.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Preps, cool, jocks, awesome.</title><content type='html'>So at my school, I think I'm considered to be a little, strange. I'm in drama, which is already saying that you're different. I also have truely insane stories about my family, which doesn't bug me talking to people about it. And people think I'll automatically be weird. I, think I'm perfectly normal. And here are some perfect examples of how nobody is "Normal".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are all things people have done, people who are in the "cool" group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- This one is probably the worst. When people are discussing things in class, two "cool" girls roll their eyes in the back of their head and suck on their lower lip. I don't know what this accomplishes, and I think they need some medical help. It really creeps me out.&lt;br /&gt;- Another time in the same class, we were watching "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" The two girls were bored and they decided to throw gum across the room and make it in the garbage can. Of course it didn't make it, and they didn't pick it up. That's so beyond disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;- One "normal" person meows in french class, for no reason. They think it's funny.&lt;br /&gt;- "Preppy" girls always do their make-up in class. Can't they just wait 'til lunch, when all of them are blocking the bathroom anyway? Why are they so distracting.&lt;br /&gt;-I have no idea how you can be so vain to block the bathroom while you stare at yourself in the mirror. I asked politely to pass by one time, and no one did anything. So I pushed my way through and everyone glared at me and said "You messed up my make-up."&lt;br /&gt;- I can never seem to say the right things in science, according to a group of "cool" guys in the class. Anything that I say out of my mouth, the head poncho will mock me in some way. One time I said how the moon looked cool last night, to someone (NOT him) and he says to his friends. "ha huh, the moon. God she's so f***ing dumb." And his friend said "It really did look awesome last night." and he replied "well yeah. Shut up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad I don't hang out with these people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-837648470869958830?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/837648470869958830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=837648470869958830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/837648470869958830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/837648470869958830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/04/preps-cool-jocks-awesome.html' title='Preps, cool, jocks, awesome.'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-1349071755098386531</id><published>2009-03-24T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T20:17:30.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gormandizer.</title><content type='html'>So a while back we got the word 'gormandizer' as part of our list of vocab word's. And Havig laughed because everytime she heard of that song it made her think of the song 'Womanizer' By Brittney Spears. You know, that one that OOps, did it again, and again until she had two kids and divorce papers. Anyway, I asked if I could remake the lyrics to that song for extra credit, to which she replied "Yes." And I think she didn't actually think I was going to do it. But sure enough, next day I came back with that typed gold. She read over it and the grin gradually increased until her face split. She returned it to me laughing and called it brilliant. So my next question was if I sang it, would I get more extra credit, to which she replied 'yes.' So, I asked my friend if she wanted to join me and make a singing duo, and of course she said 'yes.' The next day it took some convincing but eventually she came up there and sang with me. Another boy joined as well, even though he was only singing the low man 'gormandizer' line. Over all it was brilliant. I would paste it on here, but I don't want anyone stealing it. I might make a video for Youtube. Look out world, gormandizer is coming your way. And it's hungry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-1349071755098386531?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/1349071755098386531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=1349071755098386531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1349071755098386531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1349071755098386531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/03/gormandizer.html' title='Gormandizer.'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-3020932733402120658</id><published>2009-02-17T19:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T19:59:13.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sickness.</title><content type='html'>Jenna earned &lt;strong&gt;FAIL&lt;/strong&gt; points for the following reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- not going to school today.&lt;br /&gt;- coming down with a one-hundred-and-two degree fever.&lt;br /&gt;- sleeping until five o'clock ... &lt;em&gt;p.m&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;- having to reschedule her running start test.&lt;br /&gt;- missing yoga in weight training! &gt;.&lt; what a bummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for those who can't count ...&lt;br /&gt;that's &lt;strong&gt;5 FAIL Points&lt;/strong&gt; for Jenna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being sick sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-3020932733402120658?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/3020932733402120658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=3020932733402120658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/3020932733402120658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/3020932733402120658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/02/sickness.html' title='Sickness.'/><author><name>Jenna</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uEUL1sbEPiE/Tjn7ALt7jVI/AAAAAAAAAuw/PHT8IHh3B_s/s220/biopic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-4699794760642638474</id><published>2009-02-12T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T18:45:25.102-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Girls: Part II</title><content type='html'>A beautiful thing happened in HEII today. A lady (Who's name I will not use out of pure embarrassment) was sent out into the hall today by an epic teacher. I have never seen Ms. Havig send someone out, and it was all because the girl was annoying her. AWESOME!!! I tried so hard not to laugh, keeping it all inside. The girl definately deserved it, just read my previous blog about stupid girls...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-4699794760642638474?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/4699794760642638474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=4699794760642638474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/4699794760642638474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/4699794760642638474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/02/stupid-girls-part-ii.html' title='Stupid Girls: Part II'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-5101034648941695597</id><published>2009-02-09T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T18:15:54.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peas Were Not Meant To Play Basketball.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E1kAJ1-gytE/SZDipd1emFI/AAAAAAAAAnA/pI-gGnKZt9o/s1600-h/lintel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E1kAJ1-gytE/SZDipd1emFI/AAAAAAAAAnA/pI-gGnKZt9o/s400/lintel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300985963426519122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small towns.&lt;br /&gt;College sports.&lt;br /&gt;College sports &lt;em&gt;mascots&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Lame college sports half-time entertainment &lt;em&gt;involving&lt;/em&gt; the mascots.&lt;br /&gt;Lintel Festival.&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Having's story telling skills.&lt;br /&gt;A class full of easily amused sophomores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add it all up ...&lt;br /&gt;and you've got Win Points, x4894839483&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and the Burrito Bomber needs some lovin', too.&lt;br /&gt;"Burrito!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Nooooooooo!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-5101034648941695597?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/5101034648941695597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=5101034648941695597' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/5101034648941695597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/5101034648941695597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/02/peas-were-not-meant-to-play-basketball.html' title='Peas Were Not Meant To Play Basketball.'/><author><name>Jenna</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uEUL1sbEPiE/Tjn7ALt7jVI/AAAAAAAAAuw/PHT8IHh3B_s/s220/biopic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E1kAJ1-gytE/SZDipd1emFI/AAAAAAAAAnA/pI-gGnKZt9o/s72-c/lintel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-1028737834052704853</id><published>2009-02-02T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T17:12:44.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things under-appreciated</title><content type='html'>Number 1: The piano. I just recently watched "The Pianist" with Adrian Brody. It's a fantastic movie, and depressing. But the music in it was so fantastic. It has you enter a world of mystery and creativity. I find the piano way more entertaining than someone talking about how they mugged that hoe on the corner, and then raped her, cause he had nothing better to do. But then again, that's just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 2: Brains. I don't understand why we don't advertise this instead of some computer-modified chick who was pretty enough to begin with. When someone says something to me, that intrigues me into a conversation, I find that way more appealing than someone who is just "hot." I will eventually get bored with that "hot" person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 3: Humor. America's view on humor is very crude and awkward. People call me a "bitch" because they believe it's funny. And when I don't laugh, they only say "I'm just joking." That offends me just like going up to a person and saying "your fat, but not really, only slightly." We make racist jokes today and I think people only do that as improvising, because it's not politically acceptable to be racist. I think these jokes are disgusting. Jokes today don't have very much thought process. Git 'er dun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 4: Theatre: I just love going to Battle Ground to practice for drama. Every time we go the dance or cheer team is there. And they come into our space and turn their music on full blast. It really annoys me, it goes with the whole disrespect thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 5: Apologies. They are the most difficult thing to do. Admitting you were wrong. So people decide not to do them. Which leads to more friend-drama and a lot more fights. Also, when a person bumps into you, and doesn't have the decency to say "excuse me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 6: Water. It is the best thing on earth. The thing that made Earth. But surprisingly a lot of people don't particularly like it. Well without it you die, so if you need something, why not also enjoy it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 7: School. Without it you are stupid. And you get to meet people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 8: The period It ends a sentence Without it your sentences would run on forever and it would be hard to know when to stop And it is a lot harder to read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 9: Our bodies. We just kind of use them. I personally don't really think about what I put into it. In fact, I just started excercising. I treat my body pretty horribly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 10: History. It made you who you are today. Allows you a lot of priveledges, and most people say history is useless. If we didn't have history, a lot would repeat. And we'd most likely be gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-1028737834052704853?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/1028737834052704853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=1028737834052704853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1028737834052704853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1028737834052704853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-under-appreciated.html' title='Things under-appreciated'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-676055307557365063</id><published>2009-02-01T19:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T19:28:37.774-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They Travel In Packs Of Two Or Three</title><content type='html'>Oh wow. Stupid girls. The most entertaining and pathetic thing to view. Don't you just love sitting in Honors English, listening to everone's interesting views and opinions on something you read, and that blonde hollister perfume infested chick in the corner opens her mouth, and all that escapes are words like "cosmo" and "the O.C.?" I know some of the things that I say in class are a little "Out there" but come on! Can't you have any other reference besides that cute football quarterback, or chick flick you just saw, or horoscope you read in a magazine, or how you like Hanna Montana? It's really pathetic, too pathetic for me to have pity on you. You may have friends now, but when your old and wrinkly, scratch that, all botoxed up, you won't still have those high-school BFF's. You'll have that fat, bald husband who spends his time at work, or watching the game. You will have four places to go to: your house, the grocery store, the gym, or your son's football game. You will have no opinion of your own. Have a good life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize for my lack of blogging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-676055307557365063?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/676055307557365063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=676055307557365063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/676055307557365063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/676055307557365063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/02/they-travel-in-packs-of-two-or-three.html' title='They Travel In Packs Of Two Or Three'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-2658352310356142662</id><published>2009-02-01T18:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T18:36:06.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>King Arther</title><content type='html'>&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;INCEST WAVE FTW.&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-2658352310356142662?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/2658352310356142662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=2658352310356142662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2658352310356142662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2658352310356142662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/02/king-arther.html' title='King Arther'/><author><name>Danni</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13877885255179430169</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nwN0_CalHOo/TVc7stWk02I/AAAAAAAAAXU/CQhicRTOmYs/s220/Photo_00015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-1116839278531983144</id><published>2009-01-13T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T22:01:11.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight!!!</title><content type='html'>So I can't fathom how 'Twilight' has yet to make the hall of fame. For being so god awful of course. This movie was so ridiculous that you'd think any half intelligent human would notice the whole ridiculousness of it all. But, surprisingly, lots of people enjoyed it. They are most likely the people who enjoy getting their eyes stabbed by toothpicks and filling the holes with lemon juice as well. And I don't understand how they find Edward 'hot' and 'attractive.' He is the biggest creeper I have ever seen! Just think about it, if some old man with thinning gray hair, old man moles, and some random stray hairs tickling the inside of his nose were to replace Edward on the front cover, half of the audience would be gone. The other half would be there to mock it. But the thing is, Edward is not that different. He spends most of the movie gawking at some chick. And the whole movie is them staring back and forth at eachother and saying how great the other one is and how unique they are and blah, blah, blah. If I really wanted to watch that, I could just find the newest couple at my school. And it's free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way: Anna loses 20 points for playing that pen. I never thought I could think ripping off my toenails with a dull codfish could be more enjoyable than anything. But apparently it can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-1116839278531983144?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/1116839278531983144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=1116839278531983144' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1116839278531983144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1116839278531983144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/01/twighlight.html' title='Twilight!!!'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-2406453096231207770</id><published>2009-01-08T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T21:24:08.128-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SWbfK_wB9lI/AAAAAAAAACI/RIGhWy0keIg/s1600-h/DSCN0351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289160192397801042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SWbfK_wB9lI/AAAAAAAAACI/RIGhWy0keIg/s320/DSCN0351.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; (Look with head tilted to the left) This is my demented snake. I'm pretty sure I will now explore the body of a snake and come up with different ways to draw it. Snake on acid is my first :) (Smiley)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-2406453096231207770?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/2406453096231207770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=2406453096231207770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2406453096231207770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2406453096231207770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2009/01/look-with-head-tilted-to-left-this-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SWbfK_wB9lI/AAAAAAAAACI/RIGhWy0keIg/s72-c/DSCN0351.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-1644452882722733057</id><published>2008-12-14T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T19:49:50.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6: Why?</title><content type='html'>The word "Pasts." Make sure you say the word aloud to understand my point. "Pasts. Pasts. Pasts."  What and awful word.  The sound just makes me cringe.  "Pasts."  Some words in the english language don't make much sense.  So this word loses 5 points for just being annoying.  No one likes you, and you should go hide somewhere and let another word replace you.  And any other word that ends with -sts or -fts.  It's just a nuisance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words that shoud dissapear.&lt;br /&gt;-Insists&lt;br /&gt;-Pasts&lt;br /&gt;-Cysts&lt;br /&gt;-Lists&lt;br /&gt;-Mists&lt;br /&gt;-Twists&lt;br /&gt;-Assists&lt;br /&gt;-Consists&lt;br /&gt;...etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-1644452882722733057?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/1644452882722733057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=1644452882722733057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1644452882722733057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/1644452882722733057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-6-why.html' title='Day 6: Why?'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-2259030824552285314</id><published>2008-12-10T20:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T20:47:50.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5: There is a light at the end of the dark tunnel...</title><content type='html'>Cry, the Beloved Country is almost over. Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Leah loses a point for thinking she could use her book on a multiple choice test. Sad Day!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The test just fails... come on, you never told us to read the copywright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for setting us up to fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third Period Test Scores: Fail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-2259030824552285314?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/2259030824552285314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=2259030824552285314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2259030824552285314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2259030824552285314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-5-there-is-light-at-end-of-dark.html' title='Day 5: There is a light at the end of the dark tunnel...'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-2751602832824652589</id><published>2008-12-09T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T15:22:46.669-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4: It's Getting Heated</title><content type='html'>Starting off today with the topic of our beloved teacher, Havig.  Who today lost a point for forgetting to bring our movie to class, but she recovered later in the day by delaying the class exam until the date of December tenth, or tomorrow. So she stays at her same score.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The DMV Fails at life because of their poor services. No questions asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought Michael deserved some sort of point because of the fact that he doesn't quite understand what we're doing. So here's to you, Michael with the total of: .087564923 points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Lastly... The Beatles who gets the points of 100,000 because they are awesome at life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-2751602832824652589?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/2751602832824652589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=2751602832824652589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2751602832824652589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/2751602832824652589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-4-its-getting-heated.html' title='Day 4: It&apos;s Getting Heated'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-9107158151668868603</id><published>2008-12-08T20:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:30.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3: 12/8/08</title><content type='html'>Today I thought I would talk a little bit about Anthony.  And his discussion about "read." I found this topic most interesting because of the fact that he didn't understand why it mattered which way you said it. Read (present tense) or Read (past tense. pronounced "red") It does matter based on the face of people wondering your intelligence level. I.E. "Tomorrow I will read the newspaper." It doesn't make much sense to pronounce it "red" and people will probably give you some awkward looks, and then correct you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I conclude. Anthony you are now on the chart, but in a negative way. You have -1 points. Congradulations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anthony: -1&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-9107158151668868603?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/9107158151668868603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=9107158151668868603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/9107158151668868603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/9107158151668868603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-3-12808.html' title='Day 3: 12/8/08'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-5737724934851420656</id><published>2008-12-04T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T18:40:22.094-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: Getting Ahead</title><content type='html'>Yesterday it was Havig who saved the day by retrieving a writing utensil (that of ink nature) and for that will receive an added point, putting her at a total of 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna does not know the english language and was consistantly certain that 'vagabond' was spelled with an 'e', therefore, losing a point. She has now dropped to One pity point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is all we have for now. Go Team!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-5737724934851420656?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/5737724934851420656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=5737724934851420656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/5737724934851420656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/5737724934851420656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-2-getting-ahead.html' title='Day 2: Getting Ahead'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1335280846696495039.post-8863616774865990550</id><published>2008-12-02T15:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T15:06:43.725-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: The Beginning. 12/2/08</title><content type='html'>Anna: II&lt;br /&gt;Havig: I&lt;br /&gt;The World: FAIL&lt;br /&gt;Emily G: III&lt;br /&gt;Potato Drawer: WIN&lt;br /&gt;Danni: III&lt;br /&gt;Brian: EPIC FAIL (poisoning the class with two week old cookies... pity)&lt;br /&gt;Jenna: II&lt;br /&gt;Family Circus: EPIC FAIL*EPIC FAIL (EPIC FAIL squared)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*So as you can see by the list, the current status is that Emily G and Danni are currently tied as the winners. Not shoving that in anyone's face or anything... Good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1335280846696495039-8863616774865990550?l=p3he2winchart.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/feeds/8863616774865990550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1335280846696495039&amp;postID=8863616774865990550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/8863616774865990550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1335280846696495039/posts/default/8863616774865990550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://p3he2winchart.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-1-beginning-12208.html' title='Day 1: The Beginning. 12/2/08'/><author><name>Here, Have This Bag Of Pity.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11817668762311713335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_avBwhqhEuOo/SRcuT9BCvFI/AAAAAAAAABs/Sga9P1QZyp8/S220/stick+people.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
