tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66102657836283381112024-03-05T21:19:44.724-08:00New AdventuresAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-13586380997387765612014-11-10T20:42:00.003-08:002014-11-10T20:42:52.417-08:00Fucking Monday (Short Story) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90RSwZkMOU0Nr5T34fpglLzjDIlt0xhGzj9Gkz1AEenpbXdn7nPt_REbC5IOOa25IO3kB8fULW2HHFUQbfkYq3M1jwYYJAoPKuw5u5JcLoR41TDB4LNpbBjrBkJ44pxJlW-PMRiwX7N4/s1600/IMG_5506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90RSwZkMOU0Nr5T34fpglLzjDIlt0xhGzj9Gkz1AEenpbXdn7nPt_REbC5IOOa25IO3kB8fULW2HHFUQbfkYq3M1jwYYJAoPKuw5u5JcLoR41TDB4LNpbBjrBkJ44pxJlW-PMRiwX7N4/s1600/IMG_5506.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Fucking Monday <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
On another typical Monday morning,
Elaine found herself drinking her third cup of coffee before ten o’clock. She
was trying to make time out of thin air. Time. Something that seemed so plentiful
last Friday afternoon and had now become a priceless entity. She couldn’t
afford to lose even a second as she worked beyond diligently to finish her
article, “Why Women Want War.” The CEO would be in today and would personally
read it himself! (This was a tad intimidating since she had never actually met
or seen that man before). It was going to be her breaking, just-like-the-movies
article that everyone read and shared around the world; people would laugh,
cry, and reflect on their lives. It was going to make her famous and allow her
to not only keep her job, but also branch out and work for herself, her life
dream. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Elaine had written dozens of
articles for the New York Times and about fifty freelance articles to magazines
around the City, but nothing had made her a name yet. This was the article that
would do it. She just needed to find her voice. That’s what the weekend was
for. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She went out Friday night. It was
pretty tame and usual for her: she went to a bar, met some friends, had a drink
or two, and went home, the end. It was
Friday night/Saturday morning while lying in her bed that Elaine decided she
needed an adventure and Saturday and Sunday would be that adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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First thing Saturday morning,
Elaine packed her bags for a night and headed toward the mountains. It was
“find an adventure” time! As she headed up the hiking trail with a blue tag
(moderate level), she looked on her Tinder to see if any potential mates were
available. She came across 5 guys in the area worth hooking up with. WOW! A
hook up in the woods. What an adventure!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The first man she came across on
the hiking trail was downright hot. He had a beard, muscles, chiseled jaw. No
wedding ring, no one else around; Elaine could make this work. She asked him a few questions to try and start
a conversation, but he just was not interested. She tried to act like she had
no idea where she was on the trail, but that only seemed to annoy the man. He
even muttered under his breath, “Who gets lost in the first half mile of the
trail??” Smooth, Elaine. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Elaine decided to move on, and now
she had more determination to find an adventure. Who needs that guy anyway! He
wasn’t “ALL THAT!” But the quick, though slight, rejection still played in her
mind. Over and over again. She soon began to question her appearance, body
odor, was it her breath? Then she thought maybe this was her adventure! Or at
least her article that she had been waiting to write. “Why Men are Pigs!” no
not that’s good. He wasn’t a pig, but what was he? Arrogant? Maybe, but what was
the psychology behind it all. It was like a cat and dog fight, like, a war or
rivalry!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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The rest of the weekend Elaine
thought and drafted about her story. She had Subject A (herself) meets Subject
B (man in the woods) which should have resulted in Adventure C (sexcapades) but
instead ended with Rejection D (WAR!!!) But what did it mean!? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Monday was flying by. Lunch had
flown by because there was no time for it! The CEO would be reading stories and
articles at 4! It was almost 3 now, and Elaine only had an article of jibber
jabber. Then she realized her story was right. The title was wrong! Women don’t
want war. Women want Adventure C!!! He was being a prudent pussy, not her! So Elaine proudly changed her title, added a few
comments here and there about men being bigger pussies, and printed a draft to
be read. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Elaine was still feeling the high
of finishing her great story as she entered the conference room. She walked
straight to her boss who was conversing near the head of the conference table. “Elaine!
I’d like to introduce you to Dan Cormack, our CEO.” A bearded, muscular man
with a chiseled jaw turned toward Elaine. “Fuck,” she muttered.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-25335009018681342072014-10-26T08:05:00.002-07:002014-10-26T08:05:20.438-07:00Captain and Tennille: A Purrrrfect Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7aYTIIDjAmiy1eMfHOMAzFP2lUyn1mNRPgOsH7gzwllAFEU6vwlw7y6NjUjn4O46O1ugOanp2SsuK359k5spb3eBOtsFU2VKvgraFiMlkgecUtyqICujSAkmQ_EJN14wyN2RAFi4Ga4/s1600/IMG_5397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7aYTIIDjAmiy1eMfHOMAzFP2lUyn1mNRPgOsH7gzwllAFEU6vwlw7y6NjUjn4O46O1ugOanp2SsuK359k5spb3eBOtsFU2VKvgraFiMlkgecUtyqICujSAkmQ_EJN14wyN2RAFi4Ga4/s1600/IMG_5397.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Once upon a time in a large flat off
of St Charles Street in New Orleans, LA lived two brothers named Captain and
Tennille. They were the coolest cats of the South; known throughout the states
as the Davis Brothers. Also they were bandits. Gangsters. Thieves. But they
were more loved than hated or feared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> The Godmother was none other than
Kathlebury Daviscio, daytime educator, all the time Mob Mom. The Mob Mom ran a
strict, no funny business business. She got a lot, but she expected a lot. And
this Christmas Kathelbury was going for gold. Literally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> The Davis Brothers had their
assignment: Hit up the national banks in alphabetical order every other day
starting on Monday and ending on Friday, and change up the times by exactly two
hours each time. Then the weekend would
bring the grand finale: Jewelry stores.
Get all of the gold, save the diamonds and tacky shit. The black market
wasn’t looking to be TOO flashy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Kathelbury supplied not only the underworld of New Orleans,
but also the North Pole. That’s right: Santa Claus. Sometimes Santa’s elves got
a little lazy, and sometimes his elves got a little cheesy. When those times
came around, Santa had a hard time getting them to produce <i>nice</i> gifts, and thus left with the only option to outsource. The
Mob Mom was all too happy to help. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> The banks were a piece of cake.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday the banks basically just handed over the money to
Captain and Tennille. Not even so much as a scream. Then again it was the Davis
Brothers. They had their charm and their irresistible stare. Who wouldn’t want
to help them?? But when the weekend
came, an unexpected turn in the plans occurred. Maybe it was because Captain
and Tennille split up instead of sticking together? Maybe Kathelbury had been
too relaxed and thought too little of Kay Jewelers’ security? Either way
Captain and Tennille both found themselves in a pickle! They were both
intersected immediately after breaking in by small, infant-sized beings. First thought
was the cops, but Kathelbury had them paid off, and they couldn’t have known
ahead of time about the jewelry heist. Both Captain and Tennille were
kidnapped! Somehow word must have gotten out about the jewelry stores, and that
could only be if there had been a snitch! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Who could have snitched? It’s not
like Kathelbury shared her plans with anyone other than Captain and Tennille,
except on the rare occasion she had to turn in a LESSON PLAN!!! FUCK! Santa
wanted a fool-proof gig, an outline of how it would play out. Fucking Santa. He
<i>would</i> double-cross her, and now he
had Captain and Tennille which meant things were now personal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Kathelbury boarded her jet. She
wasn’t worried about the gold, but she needed to send a message that she wasn’t
one to be double-crossed by some fat, old FAIRY TALE! And so she set off to the
North Pole. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> As Captain and Tennille sat in their
kennels; they laughed. What was this? Amateur hour? You can’t expect cats to be
kept in a kennel! Especially not these two. As soon as the Elves were relaxed
enough with their guard, the cats were out! BAM! Elves were flying left and
right with cat fever! The Davis Brothers signaled Kathelbury about their
escape. Kathelbury was sure they would find a way out, but she wanted to
personally deliver a message to Old St Nick!
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Santa was having a gay ole time,
sure that he had pulled the best heist in history when all of a sudden the
doors to his workshop flew open and a hundred elves went screaming for their
lives! “What on Earth?” Santa thought right before Captain and Tennille came
flying in kicking ass and slaying elves with hammers and saws they accumulated
from the workshop. Now usually captain and Tennille weren’t killers, but these
were elves, not much different from a squirrel, right? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> As the Davis Brothers took out every
elf in their way, Kathelbury landed her jet taking out half the workshop.
Kathelbury jumped out of the jet with her machine gun and took out every elf
she saw; pest control was here. When there were no elves left, Santa was
cornered. Captain and Tennille tied him up as Kathelbury approached. She knew
she couldn’t take him out completely. Santa was <i>needed</i> even if he had double-crossed her. She took out her pocket
blade and right on his fat cheek, she wrote a nice, elaborate “Kay’s!!!” Blood
poured down his face and beard as Santa screamed, but he was sure to never
forget. The gang left in the jet leaving Santa all alone in a mess of
destruction that was once his workshop. They also took not only the gold but
all the cat toys too. This was indeed the best Christmas for them yet! All the
presents in the world for their pleasure! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Santa had had a rough day, but he was glad to still be alive. As he went to bed, leaving his
worries for another day, he found a Letter to Santa from none other than
Kathelbury. It read:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dear Santa,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> I hope you learned a lesson. Don’t
fuck with me or mine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> Merry Christmas!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> -The
Mob Mom<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-72305632592568453232014-10-15T10:24:00.000-07:002014-10-15T19:39:50.110-07:00Wrinkly Pants: a Short Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFymlzdwjKTp63C-oXlGP3ahCcZ27dGGHi01zOPL359JCjQvzKHzX5W4XXRBOkvIxjYKLz62vxUj2mOIEAXmkKsD-8wN2w_R_knl5YJ7sfWehxF4vqNzoL4b-_PSq5swI1geBcMDnEcw8/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFymlzdwjKTp63C-oXlGP3ahCcZ27dGGHi01zOPL359JCjQvzKHzX5W4XXRBOkvIxjYKLz62vxUj2mOIEAXmkKsD-8wN2w_R_knl5YJ7sfWehxF4vqNzoL4b-_PSq5swI1geBcMDnEcw8/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once upon a time there was a
pair of wrinkly pants worn by the most fabulous boy ever in the world.
Unfortunately the most fabulous boy died in a tragic heat wave from dehydration
in the middle of NYC. The wrinkly pants were very sad. Not only had the pants
lost their status as being worn by the most fabulous boy, but now they were
given to the Salvation Army. The fabulousness would be lost. Used clothes?
Never.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One fine day a middle-aged,
tacky hoodlum popped into the Salvation Army looking for some U.S. Army garb to
wear to work. His occupation was “Homeless Veteran In Need of a Cup of Coffee </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.0pt; line-height: 107%;">or
work</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">”
or so reads his piece of card board. Lewis was his name, and he had no game.
Lewis was having no luck finding an entire US Army uniform, but he did find a
nice pair of wrinkled pants. They looked so fresh! And they were just wrinkled enough for his
job. He </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">didn't</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> have $5, but he did have a certain set of bargaining skills. He
got them for $2. PRAISE JESUS.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The wrinkly pants were NOT
having it! What was this? Had they done something wrong? Had he somehow not
paid his karma? And then it hit the wrinkly pants: this was the pair’s time to
shine, to take a literal bum and make him something of worth! Challenge
accepted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">On his first day of “work”
with his new wrinkly pants, Lewis was not making ANY money. No one truly
believed he needed a cup of coffee. And honestly Lewis was feeling a little
more professional and a little less needy. He was even starting to feel strong
and able- like he could be of use. It was at this very moment Lewis threw away
his sign and went<b> job hunting. </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The wrinkled pants were
feeling great! Here they were changing someone’s life for the first time and
the pants were loving it. Lewis was now a sales associate at Urban Outfitters
making his own money. He fit in so well, and was even promoted to sales lead
for the holiday! But honestly the pants were getting bored. They hadn’t been
washed in weeks, they were losing shape, and even worse they were wearing out
around the ankles. Charity season was over! Lewis had to go. BUH BYE, Lewis.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lewis was working diligently
and folding tee-shirts like most days. Today, however, was not like most days;
for one the district manager Jillian was popping in for a visit, and Lewis was
up for a promotion if all went well. He was nervous, excited, and very hopeful
for a decent future. He even came in two hours early to make sure every item of
clothing and retail was in place. He felt like a soccer mom going on a family
vacation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Unfortunately for Lewis, he
was too busy worrying about his meeting with his Jillian to pay much attention
to his pants. The wrinkly pants were plotting to destroy Lewis. It was time for
him to get a new pair of pants to abuse. As Lewis did a walk-through with
Jillian, the pants started to slacken, and he was beginning to feel exposed but
didn’t want to look down and draw attention to what he feared to be the
problem. But sure enough he eventually got to point where he could no longer
walk right. The wrinkled pants were now wrinkled below his knees. Without breaking
eye-contact with Jillian (who was pretending none of this was happening out of
second-hand embarrassment), Lewis quickly pulled up his pants. He realized he </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">couldn't</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"> let go of them without them falling, and the wrinkled pants had a
broken zipper. At this point Jillian no
longer had the patience to pretend there wasn’t a wardrobe malfunction. She
suggested he try a pair of </span></span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Urban’s </i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">pants.
Lewis was now a wreck. He shucked the old wrinkly pair of pants and bought a
pair of Urban Outfitter’s pants; the new pants did nothing for him. The fit was
too tight in his old legs, and too loose around the waist. He </span><span style="line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">didn't</span><span style="line-height: 107%;"> like these
pants at all. And worst of all he did NOT feel professional. He had had enough!
This </span><span style="line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">wasn't</span><span style="line-height: 107%;"> the life he wanted! To be folding clothes all day, telling kids
what to do, dealing with people who sucked at life? DONE! Lewis came out of the
dressing room and walked straight passed Jillian with not so much as a goodbye!
He threw the wrinkly pants away, poured some old liquor on top and lit those
pants on fire! Lewis wasn’t going to wear some stupid pants from Urban Outfitters!
And he wasn’t wearing old, broken-zipper wrinkly pants either! NO MORE PANTS!
They screwed with his emotions and made him think he was something he’s not! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As the wrinkly pants burned
in that old wire trash can, the pair of pants thought maybe he should have just
stopped being pants when the most fabulous boy died. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-50782508341122972742014-09-21T15:47:00.002-07:002014-09-21T15:47:12.829-07:00NYC Gems <span style="color: blue;"> There are many great things about the city, great public transportation, several parks, fair amounts of art, food, a variety of cultures, etc. One of my favorite things about the city are the hidden surprises around every corner, the little treasures I find when I'm not looking. I call these surprises that fall into my lap,"<b>gems</b>." </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoBEWG1ihD2VV2KrkTcjFkz0gNJ_gXFRn6-MGTUM0m6x8gHq5oHd9dWLtLlDnhh0xcUZxE_W_Vtvl4G0QfAGGBvAirf2tXW5NY8RVohmDdlFsRxBjZnZDAHljoQnall2pnbSjXrTSKMI/s1600/gems.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoBEWG1ihD2VV2KrkTcjFkz0gNJ_gXFRn6-MGTUM0m6x8gHq5oHd9dWLtLlDnhh0xcUZxE_W_Vtvl4G0QfAGGBvAirf2tXW5NY8RVohmDdlFsRxBjZnZDAHljoQnall2pnbSjXrTSKMI/s1600/gems.jpg" height="243" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
On a recent venture to Queens, Keith and I found gems in the sense of food. Two restaurants with decent food at a great price. The first place we found is a pizza and burger joint called <b>Chubby Burgers.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTib2H8grJDT0Cq50gerNS_gvfnOAWwA80f0GwohMKaHtXphFAPk_D3hN36S2gxAW5ujIZLylodCeXkGYpA8KlTh5p8NomZ5OOG645ktIlJbh2nxl44TmEbZY1kQaY9Fu0V9jZjJFLM3g/s1600/photo+(28).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTib2H8grJDT0Cq50gerNS_gvfnOAWwA80f0GwohMKaHtXphFAPk_D3hN36S2gxAW5ujIZLylodCeXkGYpA8KlTh5p8NomZ5OOG645ktIlJbh2nxl44TmEbZY1kQaY9Fu0V9jZjJFLM3g/s1600/photo+(28).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
First I would like to point out that pizza and burgers is a great idea. Both are easy to make, but they also cover a lot of ground when it comes to what the masses like to eat. I feel like MOST people like both of those options, but usually if someone doesn't like hamburgers, they at least like pizza and vise-versa. Secondly, the price was great! For a delicious Chubby burger, salad, coke, and water it came out to about 13 dollars.Not bad at all!<br />
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Our second food gem was also in Queens. It's a Greek cafe called <b>Cafe Boulis</b>. They have these delicious doughnut-like creations called <b>LOUKOUMADES</b> (lu-ku-ma-days) that they make fresh to order. YOU HAVE TO TRY THESE. They are like a petite doughnut and you can order a variety of toppings, but it's suggested to try the classic toppings first. The classic loukoumades comes topped with honey, cinnamon, and powdered sugar. There is also great coffee, and other pastries such as baklava that are really good and worth trying. For under 10 bucks you can get enough loukoumades for two, an ice coffee, and a juice. A GEM INDEED!</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: purple;"><b>Saturday morning Keith and I checked out the FREE KAYAKING provided on a volunteer-basis by the Downtown Boathouse. It's really cool; fast, and friendly people volunteering their weekend mornings and afternoons to allow anyone who wants to come and kayak for free in the Hudson River. the objective is to provide recreational opportunities to a space-constrained world. Donations are welcomed, so perhaps bring a dollar or two; it's still a great deal!</b> </span></div>
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The walk back to the apartment led us through all kinds of markets that were like community garage sales. We weren't looking to buy anything, but we were stopped by a gentleman offering us deals from his table because he was ready to get the stuff sold and call it a day. He was really friendly, told us about the Broadway Flea-market that was Sunday, and sold us a movie and a book for five bucks. Here's where we found a gem.<b> STARRBOOTY</b> dvd starring RuPaul the one-and-only in an unopened case. Um..that' worth about 40 bucks on Amazon right now. Forget the monetary value, it's a freakin' gem because it stars RuPaul! Bonus points because Lady Bunny is also in the movie.</div>
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Sunday we decided to check out the Broadway Flea-market which is a giant fundraiser for Broadway Cares: Equity Fights AIDs. It's the 28th annual fundraiser, and larger than ever. There are 60 tables set up selling anything from playbills and magnets, to original works of art and costumes. Last year the organization raise over $630,000, and since the beginning it has raised over 10.3 million dollars.</div>
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I realized that I don't know half of the Broadway musicals nor have I seen more than a handful. My desire for trinkets was very low, but I did find two cute magnets and a key-chain. The key chain is from a musical (?) maybe? It reads, " Suite in 2 keys." I have no idea; it was worth a dollar. The magnet that reads, "BAD JEWS" I thought was funny but is from a musical that I know nothing of except the title, "Bad Jews." Magnets are my favorite item to collect. Why? They are small and make great decorations for the fridge.</div>
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My most recent gem came from Central Park today. Completely unexpected like all gems. I was just walking through Central Park during the March for Climate Change, and out of nowhere I found Big Bird just sitting on a rock playing music, holding a box, with two other puppets dancing around in said box. There weren't any cameras around that I could see, but it looked like a legit Big Bird from Sesame Street. A bit bizarre, maybe even creepy, but at the same time it was like seeing a unicorn. </div>
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They are the unexpected, the hidden treasure, the diamond in the rough; Gems. Of course gems can be found anywhere you go; I happen to find many of them throughout NYC. You only have to go to find them. What treasures have you found lately?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-45342407257913996032014-09-17T12:05:00.003-07:002014-09-17T12:07:34.444-07:00Love in the City <br />
<span style="text-align: center;">I have found true love in the city! Two loves at that! Coffee and Cookies. Separate they are delicious; together they're even better! It may not seem like deep, profound love, but that's because these are not just any old coffee and cookies. These are Schmackary's cookies and coffee and Pushcart Coffee coffee and cookies. Both of these places hold the secret of rich, deep love. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"> Coffee from here, there, and that place.</span><br />
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So first let's talk about Schmackary's. SCHMACKARY'S! Yes, the name is SCHMACKARY'S. And it's at the corner of 45th and 9th ave. Everything about the place is cute, adorable, lovely, fantastic, insatiable..I could go on! (I could also live there, but that's beside the point). It's this delicious cookie cafe just two avenues away, and these cookies are seriously so. Damn. Good. I have tried about 7 different kinds so far, and every day they have something new. They even have delicious pastries that are not cookies. I'm talking cupcakes and brownies that look so good you would risk you teeth for them if it didn't hinder your eating ability (I have yet to try these other pastries because I haven't tried all 20+ different kinds of cookie; priorities, people!) <br />
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The cookies I highly recommend for a first timer: Bacon & Maple Syrup, Cookies & Creme, Chocolate Duet, and Red Velvet. All of those are amazing. Bacon & Maple were all I would accept the first 3 times I went (I've been about 10 times; stop judging!..), so maybe try that plus another ;) And if you're with a group, or have the munchies you can get a box of six for $14. The coffee is also good, but please don't be that guy who gets the "extra dry cappuccino." Keep that bull at Starbucks.<br />
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Now onto my second part of love: Pushcart Coffee. As the name implies it's a coffee shop, and the coffee is great at a fair price. Here's what's not implied: they have awesome pastries, specifically cookies. Try the salted pecan cookie, and you'll never feel lonely again.<br />
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This place is amazing, and not just for their coffee; it also sells beer and wine. It's a tough call; do I want coffee and a cookie? or a glass of wine? BOTH, please! That's so ingenious, it's just about insane!<br />
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Pushcart Coffee is located at the corner of 25th and 9th ave. The atmosphere is really relaxed, and there's plenty of seating. Schmackary's tends to be chaotic because it's almost a hole-in-the-wall that's packed 80% of the time. If you ever pass by and there's not a line, run in ASAP! Consider yourself blessed, child!<br />
It may be time to pick up some extra cardio routines and/or join a gym. But who cares about vanity when you know the true meaning of love?! Ok, I'll bike more..<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-89044622797143692592014-09-12T22:26:00.000-07:002014-09-12T22:26:00.431-07:00Walking 500 miles to the Art of NYC <br />
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Andy Warhol-silkscreen on acrylic- "Ethel Scull 36 Times" can be found at 945 Madison Ave at the Whitney Museum of American Art</div>
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One might think that moving to NYC, or any giant city where a car isn't needed, would be a great way to lose weight/get in shape from walking everywhere (false!). You walk SO MUCH ( especially if you're one of the many who hates the subways). Today alone I know I walked 100+ blocks, but all of my favorite museums are at the upper part of Central Park. My first pair of shoes are already starting to wear away at the soles, but that's to be expected at the right price of a $15 pair of H&M bargain shoes.<br />
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This cat meme actually brings me to my next conundrum. How do women walk so much in heels? And there are always hidden cobblestone paths popping up out of nowhere!..<br />
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(This meme reminds me of something I saw at the Koons exhibit yesterday..<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrD3RAUXsttotTRB78k0Go7umKwWmwq38m9wa5j4DqzjGM0S_5fVXB7CcL6AX2TTwsU59q4bW0eDIN1axiCDUVDhSpJns8n-3JsTMr7ZvhUCt9kYQo00Bq0BdKGWI9qS7NdmiYog2gBE/s1600/photo+1+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrD3RAUXsttotTRB78k0Go7umKwWmwq38m9wa5j4DqzjGM0S_5fVXB7CcL6AX2TTwsU59q4bW0eDIN1axiCDUVDhSpJns8n-3JsTMr7ZvhUCt9kYQo00Bq0BdKGWI9qS7NdmiYog2gBE/s1600/photo+1+(1).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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..and for size reference).</div>
..But I digress!! I wore cowboy boots one night during fashion week to be ironic/funny/stupid? (Really I just wanted to see if the faux-photographers would approach me. NO LUCK! In my defense I think I played it too safe). My point is I wore cowboy boots and my feet were killing me an hour later. It got to the point where any uneven pavement felt like knives in the side of my feet! (Hi! I'm dramatic!) I can't imagine what it would be like to wear heels.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoGbA_IM1CtMFQJv69cxL4n8afv9USw8TXxnHSXo2mZMAJehgfqcTx7sCDNBrLQsnPUgD_unSeiFFMmtwd_kpzWbTa5Kf8axDWe2TRJbOFKkHFn4UpfJxXZS4lQ4sS05UGlIyNrPLnGk4/s1600/photo+(24).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoGbA_IM1CtMFQJv69cxL4n8afv9USw8TXxnHSXo2mZMAJehgfqcTx7sCDNBrLQsnPUgD_unSeiFFMmtwd_kpzWbTa5Kf8axDWe2TRJbOFKkHFn4UpfJxXZS4lQ4sS05UGlIyNrPLnGk4/s1600/photo+(24).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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PopWare! Fashion</div>
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Today's long hall started with a trip to the Guggenheim. I thought I knew which train to take but I was wrong. I ended up saving myself about 12 blocks of walking..sounds great but not really. The walks are nice, and lately the weather has been really nice and accommodating for outdoor activity so I did not mind the 40 block-walk at all. Not to mention the east side of Central Park is lined with beautiful architecture.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbBI-Z0eQswCfLzoQHbETlgUykoejsY93YiAeU-vE7gf8tQmmE8U0yl2tzjfrXuKwE9hDuvTR6TvXyjLdx3eNKQJDMJ8BQH43atxEYJXqxW7soS2hW4FFGZl8DF6HAa_RhNznER1uCFc/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbBI-Z0eQswCfLzoQHbETlgUykoejsY93YiAeU-vE7gf8tQmmE8U0yl2tzjfrXuKwE9hDuvTR6TvXyjLdx3eNKQJDMJ8BQH43atxEYJXqxW7soS2hW4FFGZl8DF6HAa_RhNznER1uCFc/s1600/giphy.gif" /></a></div>
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One of the fun things about walking throughout a city versus driving is that you can "pull over" and have a random photo shoot at any moment, anywhere! Here's one of Keith and his close-friend Beyonce. Beyonce was in one of her moods. Probably 'hangry.'</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmadxSkwpCAOWpQRSoDfy2Xk4XXPtwlJK5xUtY4ugLVB5OlhKNiCvhB3KPP4AQTUEMHDW2XLtUbLR7cPfqnCrP7m0yydshwNmM0oZXlTdKQ4kDhc2RhC5RkD8UR_9tJqoVWdgnq4sJJ8U/s1600/photo+2+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmadxSkwpCAOWpQRSoDfy2Xk4XXPtwlJK5xUtY4ugLVB5OlhKNiCvhB3KPP4AQTUEMHDW2XLtUbLR7cPfqnCrP7m0yydshwNmM0oZXlTdKQ4kDhc2RhC5RkD8UR_9tJqoVWdgnq4sJJ8U/s1600/photo+2+(1).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Though you do walk much more than you would have originally thought/planned, you would sooner die than lose weight in the city. When money is tight or when you don't feel like spending, oh I don't know, $20? $30? for a basic lunch you have the option of $1 pizza, $2 bagel, $3 pretzel/hot-dog. Notice anything missing from those food groups? WHERE ARE THE FREAKIN' DOLLAR SALADS? There also happens to be a lovely thing called Happy Hour at almost every single bar/restaurant. Five-dollar sangria? HELLO!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziJ-vGXGhsKhBVtSeSpEWsmH2J2RMipsQ32fXZeUvt0kYsT9Q51SyxPWlG0wyoOxVvW5-nkNgmA_W2PblJVc3nxXkRnYV2DbD-Ccc_j3_WDIQ8EomuT1KSGaLiBHzW20tcWCkX64yQXQ/s1600/200.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziJ-vGXGhsKhBVtSeSpEWsmH2J2RMipsQ32fXZeUvt0kYsT9Q51SyxPWlG0wyoOxVvW5-nkNgmA_W2PblJVc3nxXkRnYV2DbD-Ccc_j3_WDIQ8EomuT1KSGaLiBHzW20tcWCkX64yQXQ/s1600/200.gif" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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Walking is great, for now at least. Maybe in the coming months I'll hate it, but for now I'll continue to walk to Central Park and the surrounding museums to enjoy what's offered. I'm loving all of the aesthetics of the city. It's just too bad I can't substitute walking for exercise. '_'</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-66934061920149299202014-09-11T22:05:00.001-07:002014-09-12T08:09:58.666-07:00"..suddenly the Koons is Me." <span style="color: red;">*Fair warning I've become slightly obsessed with Jeff Koons.*</span><br />
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I had a very exciting 9-11 running around Central Park and museum hopping. -Shouldn't there be fireworks or something for today? #Neverforget!<br />
The first museum I flew through was the American Museum of Natural History. It's intimidatingly large, but the staff is friendly and helpful. I still couldn't see anyone in HR because you can only be seen by appointment (as I'm starting to find out, that's how these museums work). Next on the list was the Whitney Museum of American Art which I have been wanting to check out for months. Fortunately the "Jeff Koons: A Retrospective" exhibit was still on display. Anyone, artist, non-artist, art-enthusiast, and art-hater, would love it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZGnrkz-SJNcZWRc1aEF4YhlMYr1moj7eKWk2OvZeaV49QAJKwrxVHrY2sMuy9Ion7syyX71zbP1PbUV3iPj0f3DwcIqDLKyny7vz9y71ejLoCTVeh6JfqeVpdwqd6J0grIZS5fj__64/s1600/loveit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZGnrkz-SJNcZWRc1aEF4YhlMYr1moj7eKWk2OvZeaV49QAJKwrxVHrY2sMuy9Ion7syyX71zbP1PbUV3iPj0f3DwcIqDLKyny7vz9y71ejLoCTVeh6JfqeVpdwqd6J0grIZS5fj__64/s1600/loveit.jpg" /></a></div>
His most recent works were the Gazing Ball and Celebration, but much of his work since the late 80s was displayed throughout four of the five stories of the museum. Koons has some "really good shit" as a random man described to no one in particular before I entered the museum. The exhibit runs until October 19th, and if you haven't seen it these photos don't do it justice; go see it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfecomXPxne-QPlFSql4eTJN0zlfdj6b6TmrWzNT0mQqAibDTWEqAeU6U7Hy-1OyfCxC5ZbUGdlj_ukGp6ng9iBR9M24F-2XTcHWAGQ-9QYYAC7NrSVYOkrJ7pT8fiaSmjF1Aj_mTv_E/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfecomXPxne-QPlFSql4eTJN0zlfdj6b6TmrWzNT0mQqAibDTWEqAeU6U7Hy-1OyfCxC5ZbUGdlj_ukGp6ng9iBR9M24F-2XTcHWAGQ-9QYYAC7NrSVYOkrJ7pT8fiaSmjF1Aj_mTv_E/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: blue;">Gazing Ball (Farnese Hercules)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqKnm_VhDf1QSt9kndlYYNVdgxWgE4-bhrq9MngPcC5rtHxmpM5DM5JzBzBdHlnke4vc-w_lFcXQS-rIZpH-viF2O_6dkOp_jmUZswIC0K0q2BdorcX6g1GmQAfPGa16kM3yTb0Hwpro/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqKnm_VhDf1QSt9kndlYYNVdgxWgE4-bhrq9MngPcC5rtHxmpM5DM5JzBzBdHlnke4vc-w_lFcXQS-rIZpH-viF2O_6dkOp_jmUZswIC0K0q2BdorcX6g1GmQAfPGa16kM3yTb0Hwpro/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: blue;"> EasyFun</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSh3HX2LnR-OFI-8W1oE4kDeYHY03kwDHnJEjhQv7ojTL7Sbt9z2lKrxvNRh8ZEP-UpvgvgeIEZ007aHwHS6ll5Xoc3MSjnD_iRp4Du2tzogwjKJXOOi8i-H1FstqfH4aaWwgEiWGklCM/s1600/photo+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSh3HX2LnR-OFI-8W1oE4kDeYHY03kwDHnJEjhQv7ojTL7Sbt9z2lKrxvNRh8ZEP-UpvgvgeIEZ007aHwHS6ll5Xoc3MSjnD_iRp4Du2tzogwjKJXOOi8i-H1FstqfH4aaWwgEiWGklCM/s1600/photo+4.JPG" height="320" width="239" /> </a></div>
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<b><span style="color: blue;">Metallic Venus </span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJMtpOfON8-ws-iqq6rCL1itFeQYha3oPjuukqU7B7Z-nasmj8Cf1CGCzvfiwBzKKECS_fRydwy_hjP9UOWJyHsUHJ3xdjP-2ZTUNJcF1QU6HNRJhsKNpkqAwYX_0KK8Qkyv2oKN4ZlDs/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJMtpOfON8-ws-iqq6rCL1itFeQYha3oPjuukqU7B7Z-nasmj8Cf1CGCzvfiwBzKKECS_fRydwy_hjP9UOWJyHsUHJ3xdjP-2ZTUNJcF1QU6HNRJhsKNpkqAwYX_0KK8Qkyv2oKN4ZlDs/s1600/photo+5.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: blue;">Celebration</span></b><br />
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I took a few photos for each room I really enjoyed. The first being "Gazing Ball" where Koons took familiar famous works of art, recreated the work out of plaster, then added a gazing ball. The gazing ball symbolizes a "sharing" element. Koons applies this from his childhood growing up in suburban Pittsburgh where most neighborhood lawns had a gazing ball "inviting" others to their yard. I think I'm remembering that correctly..<br />
The other room that was like the name EasyFun was just that. It was right after Koons' divorce (fun fact!!! His ex-wife was Ilona Staller who by the way was a porn-star whom Koons hired for his series of paintings titled "Made in Heaven," not my favorite room but interesting/amazing nonetheless. So Koons hires her to make a movie,-porno!- but falls in love with her and decides to just makes paintings of his idea and scrap the film). Staller ended up taking their kid to Italy and it caused a huge international custody battle. Koons real life became very heavy so his art became really light. The room is mostly animal-head shaped mirrors with fun colors.<br />
I feel I should mention more about "Made in Heaven." It was early on in Koons career as an artist so you have to forgive him for the narcissism and tackiness that goes on in the room. He tries to BS his way through the use of pornography by posting a dog sculpture and flowers in the room saying they symbolize fidelity, but it's just about what every amateur artist does. Not to mention there are ZERO symbols of fidelity in the actual paintings. And these are ginormous paintings so it's not like there wasn't room.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-gOJ7U44F6ZDZBLvMfJBfRqekwdi1dgsWaPsxuPHkbS45dZkKECIsquXw9XoywlMOozEZSZahEYEoiVGwTObktKDtiJxKikdrrjeWyDzaC2wjEHmch4nDjLlprveZHzZQolIcpSjrrSY/s1600/angry-old-lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-gOJ7U44F6ZDZBLvMfJBfRqekwdi1dgsWaPsxuPHkbS45dZkKECIsquXw9XoywlMOozEZSZahEYEoiVGwTObktKDtiJxKikdrrjeWyDzaC2wjEHmch4nDjLlprveZHzZQolIcpSjrrSY/s1600/angry-old-lady.jpg" /></a></div>
Shame Face<br />
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The room with "Metallic Venus" is actually called Antiquity and is basically dedicated to the Greek Goddess Aphrodite. There are multiple paintings and sculptures of the goddess in different interpretations (for example there is a Balloon Venus). One interpretation of the Venus I enjoyed was a painting of a model dressed to look like Betty Page riding a blow-up dolphin. The painting is humorous, but also has a large variety of textures painted throughout the painting which I appreciate as a painter. I also enjoy the message that celebrities are like the Gods and Goddesses of our time. Very Pop Art.<br />
The best was saved for last and that's the room "Celebration." It's almost breathtaking. In the middle of the room is a HUGE sculpture of children's Play-Doh, and then to the left is "Yellow Balloon Dog" which is also quite large and startlingly impressive. I truly believe everyone would love this room and be in complete awe of it all. <br />
I finished the afternoon adventure with a stop at the Guggenheim WHICH WAS CLOSED!!!!! The gift shop was open, and the staff was mostly present. You know who wasn't present? HUMAN RESOURCES. Not that it would have mattered because come to find out they too will not see anyone without an appointment. Persistence is KEY! I need to make some friends. FAST.<br />
We'll see what happens! <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-48996509521391279002014-09-10T17:13:00.001-07:002014-09-10T17:13:26.456-07:00Hats off to Fashion Yesterday I went back to the Met to check out some of the complete MADNESS of NewYorkFahionWeek. It's so interesting/new to me. "Models" and "photographers" randomly meet and make connections in the square of the MET. It's as if words are not even necessary (more than likely bc of language barriers). If you are a "model," you are tall (taller than anyone else.. unless you're 16?) and rail thin. Super thin. You're also dressed like you gave $25 to your 9 year-old niece and said, "Go down to the Salvation Army and pick me out a complete outfit." And the "photographers" just know and question the "models" by raising the camera to question, "Can I shoot you?" So they literally have a photo shoot right there in the square in no particular designated area, and no care that there are about a hundred people just watching at the fountain. It's interesting and annoying; I love it and hate it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18BHTQRn5dTTRZx50Gu3DBx_rfnRJvx5WJX8Ux2guUXp-5DpRyE3n5JLOWesDGRclqp5JL86UnHHJ_mFvJ7WT-5dif4Lq-lHcJNtZAZox7XbjXEhHS3yYr8E0B0CyYIo-lQSRJv5w1qI/s1600/MEME.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18BHTQRn5dTTRZx50Gu3DBx_rfnRJvx5WJX8Ux2guUXp-5DpRyE3n5JLOWesDGRclqp5JL86UnHHJ_mFvJ7WT-5dif4Lq-lHcJNtZAZox7XbjXEhHS3yYr8E0B0CyYIo-lQSRJv5w1qI/s1600/MEME.jpg" height="320" width="232" /></a></div>
One thing that has me perplexed since entering the city nearly two weeks ago: what is this black Amish/Jewish/cowboyish hat that is making frequent appearances? Don't know what I'm talking about? I got you covered with photos!(shh!) Here are some of the "models" and "photographers" I saw wearing this enigmatic hat.<br />
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<b><span style="color: blue;">This guy was just promoting something fun I think. His beard was purple so he got a plus in my book. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>"Photographer" but probably actually someone important. See that badge? To get into the Mercedes-Benz building behind him, you had to have a badge similar to that. I did not have said badge.</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZj3jwUqO9fzfHEfyKjNlOdITtercEmMgVs5YLwP2VCHTHusq4U9upj4k8P49IFMmf9xluh8-7nBZmLanmbij2vId40etHQXDmmecRW_DuD7QQS8aZyxHfm0q4SWINi1faDZ0Ysvw5BW8/s1600/blackhat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZj3jwUqO9fzfHEfyKjNlOdITtercEmMgVs5YLwP2VCHTHusq4U9upj4k8P49IFMmf9xluh8-7nBZmLanmbij2vId40etHQXDmmecRW_DuD7QQS8aZyxHfm0q4SWINi1faDZ0Ysvw5BW8/s1600/blackhat.jpg" height="320" width="301" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b> "Model" but probably nothing special. :)</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbBda8ffxa4n7CwZG6aJ1KAZKQcE5Q1a54FMMCmJZJF2ewL8T_NTAh_u0TPpRcKhG3Tb3Ox7fk0y42tVWo6r94y5rIgaAmFnvGqPgGuMgdQ-2UKeqdswyMr_dQ6PlkDiwl7y9X2xopfE/s1600/balhat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbBda8ffxa4n7CwZG6aJ1KAZKQcE5Q1a54FMMCmJZJF2ewL8T_NTAh_u0TPpRcKhG3Tb3Ox7fk0y42tVWo6r94y5rIgaAmFnvGqPgGuMgdQ-2UKeqdswyMr_dQ6PlkDiwl7y9X2xopfE/s1600/balhat.jpg" height="320" width="208" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: blue;">Any guesses? That's right! "Model." He had an agent with him so..? Maybe something special.</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhef4Xfmq_90Ry5ZMdZZHoJfbSAQVOoK71qg4zr4SHdtC2I_NwNeKTr0zE1U89C1TtwnmRiqNci9JZC_VtZYDUm9IRB0R1o_xCSIXG3w456mauAbxxV6ARy7W2bfN-h1HzDm89yJ4q4XtU/s1600/blackha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhef4Xfmq_90Ry5ZMdZZHoJfbSAQVOoK71qg4zr4SHdtC2I_NwNeKTr0zE1U89C1TtwnmRiqNci9JZC_VtZYDUm9IRB0R1o_xCSIXG3w456mauAbxxV6ARy7W2bfN-h1HzDm89yJ4q4XtU/s1600/blackha.jpg" height="320" width="219" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: blue;"> "Photographer" wanting to be "model."</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm-7aePkxOCDyVDY6-vTdbF88IYyy-kkSYIfbu1eA3PL_7hi0JlpLhbEU_HLxuldFcdhcU2vbNlRCu_29t0MfnoFEl6TdnYvGTzjRjaOwI64SF-KDTjsd3YPqxMVZTNJZ6xirv2OAtlc/s1600/blakha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm-7aePkxOCDyVDY6-vTdbF88IYyy-kkSYIfbu1eA3PL_7hi0JlpLhbEU_HLxuldFcdhcU2vbNlRCu_29t0MfnoFEl6TdnYvGTzjRjaOwI64SF-KDTjsd3YPqxMVZTNJZ6xirv2OAtlc/s1600/blakha.jpg" height="320" width="243" /></a></div>
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Notice that they are not all quite the same, HOWEVER they are following a pattern, black and fedora-like. I don't know if this is a high-fashion trend or religious statement. I've seen it here and there all over the city, but at this particular spot and time it seemed like if you wanted to scream "fashion!," you wore the black fedora-like hat and everyone just knew, 'ok that's someone REALLY serious about fashion.'</div>
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On a not-so-dissimilar topic, I finished the bracelet I was buying supplies for in my last blog! It's black leather lace braided with hex nuts. Industrial, masculine..says, "I can pack a punch," or something..</div>
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<b><span style="background-color: purple; color: cyan;">TAH-DAH!!</span></b></div>
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Tomorrow is the last day of fashion week, and I'll have to find something else to fill my days. I still don't have a job, but every day I get more aggressive with finding one. I'm still hopeful.Optimism is easy in the Big Apple. Tomorrow I'll go by the museum(s) and beg for an interview; and if I'm not immediately escorted off the premises, I'll write about that. Actually either way I'll write about it. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-49884774046139230562014-09-08T21:56:00.000-07:002014-09-08T21:56:08.797-07:00Eat, Apply, Shop, Repeat Today was...easy? relaxed? I don't know. It started around noon so that was nice. I started with a bagel on my way to K-Mart for some home necessities, and passed by a party store that was hiring. Figuring since I still don't have a job, it wouldn't hurt to apply there. I checked out the employees to see if I would get along with them..they seemed alright so I took an application and asked how long before I would hear back and for whom to ask when I was finished. Got some names, kicked some ass, FELT GOOD.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54oI5-8-qQT1_4C_lGnqJnytfMwVFimZ2u0EnTiThF-atw0wYRs7V9gEFbvQdZX2B5dtu3CJsfvPd2pyC68N37B8fQLdkliqs73AlFAKlgWtCNXsKf4cScRjOJp5GmkMN3VJxyNhr_Pk/s1600/freddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54oI5-8-qQT1_4C_lGnqJnytfMwVFimZ2u0EnTiThF-atw0wYRs7V9gEFbvQdZX2B5dtu3CJsfvPd2pyC68N37B8fQLdkliqs73AlFAKlgWtCNXsKf4cScRjOJp5GmkMN3VJxyNhr_Pk/s1600/freddy.jpg" /></a></div>
Now I know 26 is not the ideal age to be asking (begging) for a job at a party store chain, but if there's one thing I've learned in the past two years is that it doesn't hurt to have two jobs and make twice the connections; ESPECIALLY in a new city. Plus hello, discount!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihFgRrJn6j0MJ8FnWNDC63grOVWStibfhu2UmHpEF28wsk_ROrGJO45YQN1etQix1XbIg8813jxhDB_FvTsLGJPSeRHwvP71si-drwsvPiPyXVRFSLgZSg5h6ARb5FUnGp9zORLzJuFGw/s1600/wiseman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihFgRrJn6j0MJ8FnWNDC63grOVWStibfhu2UmHpEF28wsk_ROrGJO45YQN1etQix1XbIg8813jxhDB_FvTsLGJPSeRHwvP71si-drwsvPiPyXVRFSLgZSg5h6ARb5FUnGp9zORLzJuFGw/s1600/wiseman.jpg" /></a></div>
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By late afternoon/ early evening I went out just for funsies.. or a smoothie. Maybe there was something to see outside of Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week? No, not really. Not at 7 o'clock anyhow. I did however raise my nose to those taking pictures all around the Met. CLEARLY their first time there. Where were they Saturday?</div>
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I proceeded to hunt for an art supply/ craft store. Initially I went to the craft store for supplies to make a neat DIY bracelet. It will look great when it's complete..</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohRIvQjhb1ShTLu2Ys85oezGY892lm_nsFcy_EEWRtlnuAwiu-D7XcnzMyWafOxm176-ClFP3htCzl7IMrOpMovUV_8zue4QR51HqO4KkolTavp0ZLnK8pRiRXie3sNOQilDLUaRO3h0/s1600/brcelet.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohRIvQjhb1ShTLu2Ys85oezGY892lm_nsFcy_EEWRtlnuAwiu-D7XcnzMyWafOxm176-ClFP3htCzl7IMrOpMovUV_8zue4QR51HqO4KkolTavp0ZLnK8pRiRXie3sNOQilDLUaRO3h0/s1600/brcelet.gif" /></a></div>
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PARTY!! J/K. I'm not making that bracelet.</div>
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Noticing how busy they were for a craft store, I decided to ask if they were hiring as well (discounts people!! not to mention again, but I still don't have a job). Of course they were hiring! I took an application, but honestly I haven't filled it out yet. Maybe when I feel more desperate? Maybe tomorrow. </div>
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So yeah today was pretty "beige" although I did experience my first carry-a-bag-of-groceries-30-blocks. NOT A BIG DEAL.</div>
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Tomorrow is another day, another way, and maybe even a dollar will be thrown my way. (In the near future you may see me dressed as a unicorn in Time Square; I'm not even kidding).</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6610265783628338111.post-44767939069638352272014-09-07T20:06:00.001-07:002014-09-07T20:06:37.823-07:00Hell's Bells (and Kitchen)!<span style="color: blue;">Hello World! </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"> Today starts my serious job hunt. I'm excited for the vast amounts of opportunities offered throughout NYC.Unemployment has been fun, but I'm already getting antsy and need a job! Here's to employment! </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xJL27N8qiEVvQMHB7G1IUu4xZ-kth5JwBCYN1U8-7v9T4EiXT2f2NKWEmDOBPdSvjKWmdopxSpB3g0RcHyQBzchOFuvfme_VJG7Iv2u5R12xjvM4AouigUuwIJs603rDOdIcTUYhDVE/s1600/photo+(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xJL27N8qiEVvQMHB7G1IUu4xZ-kth5JwBCYN1U8-7v9T4EiXT2f2NKWEmDOBPdSvjKWmdopxSpB3g0RcHyQBzchOFuvfme_VJG7Iv2u5R12xjvM4AouigUuwIJs603rDOdIcTUYhDVE/s1600/photo+(20).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"> I took the first three days here getting to know my immediate surroundings. Then I moved into my permanent residents (or at least for a year since that's the lease I signed!), and the day after I finish moving in I got a cold. As a friend of mine stated my body was over the stress and anxiety of moving it finally settled down and allowed itself the sickness. Finally feeling back to somewhat normal I have decided to take on job hunting head on! I've applied to two museums so far and to a grocery store- Trader Joe's. I like to feel I have a safe option in there. Tomorrow I will back up my online applications by visiting each potential workplace. In no time I'll be working! </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD97xJ-Ow2-zBKbwJDwd_fE8Q0EwJNUcyo5zDnJHArh5ZtgmE8sX13UH8EFlKoCBqtQCydQ94T6bsWDgL9RncJv252QO9tBKgXngQgw2sAIUvObV47lu1AFp31bziMeBbCWMUUWXEgez0/s1600/memeworkcat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD97xJ-Ow2-zBKbwJDwd_fE8Q0EwJNUcyo5zDnJHArh5ZtgmE8sX13UH8EFlKoCBqtQCydQ94T6bsWDgL9RncJv252QO9tBKgXngQgw2sAIUvObV47lu1AFp31bziMeBbCWMUUWXEgez0/s1600/memeworkcat.png" height="236" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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Last Night I went by Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week. It was pretty exciting to be so close to it all, only to have security remind me that I was not on the guest list. Le Sigh. I like to think there is a part of me that could or would be a great clothing designer, but I think I'm a little late in the game. Here's where the cool kids view fashion week: outside.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQqEFtzK7-zUkyMA8tC7XmLBZ8euko_nlppzByg6yVwCGmVITw4KrM_oHsG9I35u9v9af6FE7-eTwwmgq_l-8FkH5CT1u88XSgQQuEDI_-yDDBEZ3GD0_hNGM8Z6yODJkiGH3si4AQRs/s1600/photo+(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQqEFtzK7-zUkyMA8tC7XmLBZ8euko_nlppzByg6yVwCGmVITw4KrM_oHsG9I35u9v9af6FE7-eTwwmgq_l-8FkH5CT1u88XSgQQuEDI_-yDDBEZ3GD0_hNGM8Z6yODJkiGH3si4AQRs/s1600/photo+(19).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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One thing I have learned more of, because I already knew, is that I need coffee every day of my life or nothing gets done. NOTHING. With that being said, I'm out of coffee and it's 11 pm. I need a refill. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-cKT-cQeV_g4VLhQTkbTvhI9ItcBRkyNdppYJgLWM1DgRtdk8oZ9f0CJrqtMloChcFyIU2hi_2KCEzDgTWP4886EXYUYItKL2vVuPUEU3dZPllu8bE0rVhsmm6789HuKP4_Yg1O9Oro/s1600/photo+(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-cKT-cQeV_g4VLhQTkbTvhI9ItcBRkyNdppYJgLWM1DgRtdk8oZ9f0CJrqtMloChcFyIU2hi_2KCEzDgTWP4886EXYUYItKL2vVuPUEU3dZPllu8bE0rVhsmm6789HuKP4_Yg1O9Oro/s1600/photo+(16).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09441225159445937963noreply@blogger.com0