<?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-2949890360570137861</id><updated>2011-11-27T09:24:12.672-08:00</updated><category term='Me'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Drug story'/><category term='Nightmare'/><category term='Love'/><title type='text'>Bad Dragon</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a blog about me.  Random rants, musings, thoughts, and feeling.  Promise to be honest.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-2069550844910014023</id><published>2010-11-14T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T10:06:38.239-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update On My Life</title><content type='html'>So in the past few months I have got a new job, been promoted at the job, met new people, reconnected with girl, lost girl, met a new one, watched as a 'friend' snuck under my nose and took her (not as dramatic as it sounds), found out my dad was lying about his health, involved in a fender bender, realized I had a superman complex, moved into a dope apartment in Beverly Hills with two of my favorite people, and seen a glimpse of what my true future will be (excited about it).  All in all.  Experienced life and it was great.  The next month should be fun.  I am excited for the possibilities.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sky diving next month?  Let's do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-2069550844910014023?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/2069550844910014023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/11/update-on-my-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/2069550844910014023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/2069550844910014023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/11/update-on-my-life.html' title='Update On My Life'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-2021262091095171664</id><published>2010-11-14T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T09:50:07.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Stages of Loss</title><content type='html'>This wasn't as hard to write as I thought it would be.  At this point this feeling has become all too common for me.  This past week I lost a love.  Last night I accepted this fact.  It was in my acceptance that I realized I went through the five stages of loss.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I was in denial/isolated myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Anger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Bargaining&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Depression&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Acceptance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A week has past since the initial shock.  I am in a much better place now.  I can't go into detail about what happened (only because it deals with someone else's business), but I just know that it is always vital and important to know as much as you can about whoever you want to pursue, (from them of course).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-2021262091095171664?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/2021262091095171664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/11/5-stages-of-loss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/2021262091095171664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/2021262091095171664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/11/5-stages-of-loss.html' title='5 Stages of Loss'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-5447655755057418491</id><published>2010-06-17T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T13:11:54.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kobe will never be better than MJ</title><content type='html'>I will put an end to this argument right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Win or lose tonight Kobe will never be better than Jordan.  Jordan dunked on five Monstars from half-court, last shot of the game in an intergalactic finals game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-5447655755057418491?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/5447655755057418491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/kobe-will-never-be-better-than-mj.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/5447655755057418491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/5447655755057418491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/kobe-will-never-be-better-than-mj.html' title='Kobe will never be better than MJ'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-8805189827751045471</id><published>2010-06-08T22:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:56:12.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Toasted Sandwich and a Black Eye</title><content type='html'>You know you are having a weird day when getting robbed by an evangelical gardener isn't the craziest thing to happen.  After a long day at my former shitty job I walked into a Quiznos to get something so simple and pleasant to calm my nerves after a long day.  A toasted sandwich, a toasted beef dip sandwich.  Mmmmhhmm.  But what do I get? You ask...  I walk into the tail end of a fist fight between a 6 ft tall 250 pound woman aka a huge lesbian version of Aunt Jemina on steroids, a 5'5 skinny white chick and a 25 year old autistic man.  I mean the only logical thing I could say as this large black man enjoyed his meal during the melee was...  Can I still get a sandwich?  A simple request for a very complicated day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-8805189827751045471?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/8805189827751045471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/toasted-sandwich-and-black-eye.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8805189827751045471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8805189827751045471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/toasted-sandwich-and-black-eye.html' title='Toasted Sandwich and a Black Eye'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-4721604280046086426</id><published>2010-06-08T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:51:33.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even with a time machine I still couldn't get laid</title><content type='html'>So I was in a conversation with a friend of mine about how often what beauty in women changes.  I mean this convo got very detailed.  Cleopatra was fat, but was considered sexy because her body made it known that she could over-indulge in food because of her status.  Then the Mona Lisa and what you see nowadays.  Like every few years what beauty is changes in the eyes of the masses.  But for a man.  From the statue of David (minus the penis) to Da Vinci's the Vitruvian Man to other portraits of 'beautiful men' they all look the same.  Muscular, abs, great hair, etc.  It's the same in present time.  So what I take from that is I would have the same success rate with women.  If I had a Dr. Brown I would still have to do a set of crunches and run before I go anywhere with him.  Basically rendering my dream of traveling in time to have sex with women of different eras mute.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guess it's time to work on that personality.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-4721604280046086426?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/4721604280046086426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/even-with-time-machine-i-still-couldnt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/4721604280046086426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/4721604280046086426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/even-with-time-machine-i-still-couldnt.html' title='Even with a time machine I still couldn&apos;t get laid'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-8546999655901465842</id><published>2010-06-08T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:39:33.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying goodbye to the worst job imaginable.</title><content type='html'>So I just quit a job so terrible that it made my time at burger king seem like a cakewalk.  So the job sold me as a marketing gig.  But in all honesty when I walked into the office I knew this was not going to be like any job I've ever had.  End result was a job where I had to walk for over ten hours a day.  The job was slave hours 12hr days 6 days a week for all commission.  I am not above any type of work, but when a job pays like shit and stops me from doing what I came out here to do then it's a problem.  I did meet a ton of cool people while on the job though.  So the job wasn't all bad.  But I do have his bullet point of the things that happened on the job.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Was offered sex for a dodger ticket&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Got my phone stolen by an evangelical gardener&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Tried to sell Dodger tickets inside of a homeless shelter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Was publicly berated numerous times (although that was pretty funny).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Had racial slurs hurled at me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*A family was murdered a few blocks hit style a few blocks from where I was working&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*and a ton of other fun stuff!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So all in all I had a pretty exciting time in the job.  But I am glad it's over and at least I got a great show idea out of the job.  I wish all who stayed the best of luck.  Keep fighting the good fight and don't believe the hype.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-8546999655901465842?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/8546999655901465842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/saying-goodbye-to-worst-job-imaginable.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8546999655901465842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8546999655901465842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/06/saying-goodbye-to-worst-job-imaginable.html' title='Saying goodbye to the worst job imaginable.'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-2120632902038359262</id><published>2010-05-02T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T21:23:33.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Larry David</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/S942bmt630I/AAAAAAAAABw/Ez2DhCmgnwM/s1600/Papi+and+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/S942bmt630I/AAAAAAAAABw/Ez2DhCmgnwM/s320/Papi+and+me.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466866845551877954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So this is me as a kid.  So fresh and full of life.  The older I get though, the more cynical I become.  I feel like I am turning into my Dad.  My dad is truly hilarious, but he loves to talk shit.  Usually during whatever I am enjoying, whether it be a TV show, movie, or football game.  I love to complain and now I am doing the same thing to my friends and people around me.  And to top it off I find myself in the most ridiculous of situations.  More on that later.  Just wanted to post this picture up to show love for my Papitat for Humanity.  Yep, that's my nickname for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-2120632902038359262?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/2120632902038359262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/05/black-larry-david.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/2120632902038359262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/2120632902038359262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/05/black-larry-david.html' title='Black Larry David'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/S942bmt630I/AAAAAAAAABw/Ez2DhCmgnwM/s72-c/Papi+and+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-7985932742796196204</id><published>2010-05-02T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T01:32:57.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-7985932742796196204?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/7985932742796196204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/05/shitty-job-rob.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/7985932742796196204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/7985932742796196204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/05/shitty-job-rob.html' title=''/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-5433540624674764097</id><published>2010-03-15T12:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T13:00:26.314-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nightmare'/><title type='text'>When Facebook Stops Being Fun</title><content type='html'>Man, I am telling you.  I am a huge supporter of Facebook, Twitter, and all of these other networking sites.  But to be honest it will not be as fun when these debt collectors start hitting up facebook.  It would be a scary sight if Sallie Mae or Visa added me as a friend.  Shit, I'd be reporting the hell out of them.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They'd be poking you, blasting you out on your wall for being late on your payments.  Sending you harsh messages.   Starting a group called "Robert's current credit score".  Man, I am shuddering just thinking about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's only a matter of time people.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-5433540624674764097?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/5433540624674764097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-facebook-stops-being-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/5433540624674764097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/5433540624674764097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-facebook-stops-being-fun.html' title='When Facebook Stops Being Fun'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-4309037457382133519</id><published>2010-03-12T00:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T23:18:47.623-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Life, Love, Honesty</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;This was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to write.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am brutally honest with myself but I never put myself out there in public.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am usually afraid of my image or looking bad in the eyes of even my closet friends.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The purpose of this is to talk about love and my life and maybe gain some new perspective in both.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is not a last ditch effort to latch on to something that will never be.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is just me being honest about how I feel.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Maybe in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt; writing this it can help me get over some issues and start my life anew.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;Throughout my life I've seen many people come and go.  My family has been my only constant.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My Papitat for Humanity (Dad) has always been there for me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My Mom has been a calming influence.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My older brother Mayo has taught me many unintentional lessons about life.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My older sister Kim made me a better person, my sister Robinette makes me laugh the most, but can also get me the maddest, and my baby sister Cheyenne is my heart.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would do anything for my family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;I've been to 12 schools and the faces of friends, foes, loves, hates, all seem to blur together.  No one particularly special out of that group has captured my heart or even garnered an emotional response in their absences.  It started so early in my life that by the time I was in 3rd grade I became accustomed to being alone.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I simply became jaded and a loner.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It didn’t help that I wasn't very appetizing to the ladies; I was a history loving, football statistics nut, with a debilitating speech impediment.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I ended my third grade year with a giant ring worm that had my hair looking like Uncle Phil effectively taking me out of school for the last two months of the school year.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I decided to take my life into my own hands and work myself into a new person.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;Side note:&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had a crazy bully when I was in Kindergarten (I was 4 ½) and 1&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; grade (5 ½).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was two years older than me and he beat me senseless every day.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The worst time being when he tripped me on the way to bible study (I went to catholic school) and I scrapped my face up.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had to walk into the church with blood dripping down my face, trying my best to hold back tears.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The scars didn’t go away for a few years.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wished death on him.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He died two years later in a swimming accident.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve never forgiven myself for wishing he would drop dead.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;Going into fourth grade I’d decided to spend the summer reading a sports almanac out loud to rid myself of my stutter.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It worked and I was finally able to speak in class without the fear of being ridiculed.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And soon I became the class clown.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was also around this time that I found what I wanted to do with my life and started plotting the course to pursue my dreams.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I moved to GA a few years after that with a new abusive stepdad that made my transition away from my home in New Orleans that much harder.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;That relationship ended for my mother as soon as it started and we were off and moving around again like a pack of gypsies.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All I had were my siblings, at the time I didn’t really want nor need anything more.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;Although that time is way behind me, subconsciously that shy little kid who was afraid to answer questions or read aloud in class will always be in the back of my mind.  I played football in high school and became a different person.  I was the always loud Robert.  I pushed people away because in the back of my head I knew that I would have to leave again.  Why show anyone the real me if I am going to have to leave anyway and feel the hurt of separation?  As a kid I felt that and didn't want to deal with it again, so I figured that everyone wanted to hear jokes at all times and not know the real me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;Over the years I’ve met numerous women that are considered crushes in my life.  Each woman left an impression on me that will never be forgotten, showing me how to better myself.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(I rarely name names when it comes to girls I care about so this is new.)  There was &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"&gt;Kristy&lt;/b&gt; my first crush (I haven’t seen or talked to her since I left GA), there was &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"&gt;Brittany&lt;/b&gt;, there was &lt;b&gt;Hadass&lt;/b&gt; my first crush on a deeper level than physical, (she’s extremely smart, a great writer, and I am glad that she’s still my friend), and there was &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"&gt;Dawn&lt;/b&gt;, this was my college crush (We haven’t talked for years and I doubt we ever will again).  I can honestly say I have only really loved two women (outside of my family).  &lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"&gt;Audrey&lt;/b&gt; (who is a friend of mine to this day and I know she will be successful in her life) and &lt;b&gt;The One&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;In my mind she will always be The One.  She is someone I will always hold a candle for.  I know the moment I met her.  Seeing her makes me happy and brightens my day.  I've written dozens of poems in her honor that will never see the light of day.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I know hundreds of songs that when they come on remind me in some way shape or form of her.  I miss her with every fiber in my body.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;She without knowing it made me realize what I was missing in my life.  It took me 22 years (at the time) to finally understand.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was missing true companionship, true love, missing the opportunity to live life how it was meant to be lived.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not just as a spectator, but as a participant.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I never wanted to see Europe, see Mexico; live outside of my comfort zone until I met someone who left her home country to come to America to study her love of film making.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now I even set aside Saturdays to go to new restaurants and try new foods.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;But unfortunately she doesn't feel the same way about me.  Don't cry for me, though.  I hold no ill will and I even understand.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want her to have fun and enjoy her life.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s the next best thing to her being with me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now don’t get me wrong I will always hold out hope that one day she will be mine and we can live a long life together.  But I can't hold my breathe nor can I wait forever.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That would do a disservice to me and that would be a burden on her.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;I have usually harnessed my feelings into motivation for work and they festered causing me to be quiet, internalizing everything.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While on vacation in New Orleans I saw that in my father and I don’t want my personal life to play out the same way.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;This is my attempt to communicate my thoughts and true feelings.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Say what you want, but at least you can know that I was completely honest. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;p.s.  Just think about if I would have wrote about 2009 in here.  haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-4309037457382133519?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/4309037457382133519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/03/life-love-honesty.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/4309037457382133519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/4309037457382133519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/03/life-love-honesty.html' title='Life, Love, Honesty'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-1731834953925072945</id><published>2010-02-26T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T10:58:55.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mist</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;So I was watching the Mist today.  It's a pretty good movie starring Thomas Jane that came out a few years ago.  Let me rephrase that, it's an amazing movie.  One of the best I've seen in years.  The underlying theme in the movie is how religion can and is used for evil to instill fear and obedience in society.  This is so true in my opinion.  Many people over the years have either said they were a prophet or sent down from heaven to lead the people to salvation, only to be found out as liars.  Now, I am not an atheist.  I guess I would be considered Agnostic.  Meaning I believe that there is a God (I grew up in the south in a hybrid Catholic/Baptist society), but not in a particular religion.  My life in churches in the South has slowly turned me off to the organized religion.  They have a you vs us attitude.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;I understand the purpose of religion and I think it's very necessary.  It's purpose is to instill hope and inspire the masses to achieve great things.  And in that respect I think religion is a beautiful thing that could make individuals better in their day to day lives.  The problem with that is that there has to be someone in charge and humans (in my opinion) are inherently evil (with the capacity to do good).  Not going to go on a long rant about the crusades, Republicans, or try to disprove any particular religion or sect.  What I would say is that if it makes you a better person and helps you lead a better life, believe what ever you want.  I will fully support it (Like my opinion on your life actually matters.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;To sum up the post: Religion should be used for the betterment of an individual and society as a whole.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Its funny that all of this was sparked by watching 'The Mist'.  Go Thomas Jane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-1731834953925072945?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/1731834953925072945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/02/mist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/1731834953925072945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/1731834953925072945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/02/mist.html' title='The Mist'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-8849991271547087714</id><published>2010-02-25T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T13:00:05.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saints Win Super Bowl aka I Can Die A Happy Man.</title><content type='html'>When the Saints won the super bowl, I was able to finally put the horrendous 2009 behind me and start fresh in 2010.  I had been waiting for the victory my entire life.  I have been a Saints fan for my entire life and it was no easy journey.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We didn't win our first playoff game until I was in High School.  We dealt with Mike Ditka as head coach, Heath Shuler-Kerry Collins at QB, numerous botched draft choices, etc.  I never wore a paper bag, nor did I answer to the nickname Aints.  I hated the thought Saints fans would hide themselves in shame.  I bought a pair of Saints tennis shoes from Wal-Mart when they had a horrible season.  I order New Orleans Saints cakes for four separate birthdays.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Side note:  The cake is the worst cake imaginable.  The black icing makes it taste like ass and cigarette ashes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the fact that in my ripe age of 24 I got to get shit faced, piss on the streets of Hollywood Blvd drunk and watch the Saints come from behind and win the super bowl is without a doubt the happiest moment I could ever have.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing will ever top that moment, but I will have to get close with my career.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-8849991271547087714?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/8849991271547087714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/02/saints-win-super-bowl-aka-i-can-die.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8849991271547087714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8849991271547087714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/02/saints-win-super-bowl-aka-i-can-die.html' title='Saints Win Super Bowl aka I Can Die A Happy Man.'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-8456692229117686488</id><published>2010-02-02T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T14:39:46.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Black Facts #1</title><content type='html'>Shit, just realized it's black history month.  Okay kiddies.  It's time for Fun Black Facts by Robert Love.  Every day I will give one random fact about black people in America.  Whether it be struggle, inspirational stories of love, or just random stupidity.  I will try and avoid the obvious already famous black names. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's black fact: John Punch was the first Black man in America to be punished more harshly than his white counterparts.  He was given life, while his co-conspirators received 1 and 3 years respectably.  The crime escaping bondage.  The year 1640.  It's going to be a fun month.  lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-8456692229117686488?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/8456692229117686488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/02/fun-black-facts-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8456692229117686488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/8456692229117686488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/02/fun-black-facts-1.html' title='Fun Black Facts #1'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-3207080124390983666</id><published>2010-01-17T23:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T16:46:00.508-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amber Alerts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; OVERFLOW-Y: hidden; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-WEIGHT: normal; OVERFLOW-X: hidden; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; COLOR: rgb(51,51,51)" ft="'{"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So a few weeks ago I was watching the news and this family came on and started to talk and cry about how they miss (fill in the blank with any random name) since she's been kidnapped. They talked at length about how great a person she was and pretty much said every good thing she has ever done. I have no doubt that she was probably the product of a Mother Teresa, Gandhi, and Joan Arc threesome. (This would be a threesome epic proportion. Everyone so giving and thoughtful...) I bet if she hadn't been kidnapped she would be a few weeks away from curing cancer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I don't believe this, and I know you don't. There is no way everyone that is kidnapped was a good, upstanding individual. The sheer numbers just don't support it. How many 'good' people do you actually know? I mean be honest. You could count on one hand how many there are. People have done great things, but there are so few actual good people out there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; OVERFLOW-Y: hidden; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-WEIGHT: normal; OVERFLOW-X: hidden; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; COLOR: rgb(51,51,51)" ft="'{"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; OVERFLOW-Y: hidden; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-WEIGHT: normal; OVERFLOW-X: hidden; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; COLOR: rgb(51,51,51)" ft="'{"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But I've honestly seen these things for years. there is no way all the abductees are nice, lovable, good people. One day I want to see a group of people interviewed and say, 'She w&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="DISPLAY: inline"&gt;as a bitch anyway, hope they don't bring her back.' Just people being honest. Same thing at funerals. Everyone only remembers the good that someone did. Wasn't he legally injected for killing 30 women? Yeah, but he was really sorry and just misunderstood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; OVERFLOW-Y: hidden; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-WEIGHT: normal; OVERFLOW-X: hidden; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; COLOR: rgb(51,51,51)" ft="'{"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; OVERFLOW-Y: hidden; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-WEIGHT: normal; OVERFLOW-X: hidden; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; COLOR: rgb(51,51,51)" ft="'{"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;People = Idiots.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-3207080124390983666?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/3207080124390983666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/amber-alerts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/3207080124390983666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/3207080124390983666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/amber-alerts.html' title='Amber Alerts'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-7979761191531646131</id><published>2010-01-11T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T13:53:29.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Thought Of The Day</title><content type='html'>Saw a still from the movie 'Precious'. This actor wowed me with his versatility. First he plays Biggie in Notorious, then he plays the lead in Precious as a pregnant teenager. He's my rising star of 2010.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-7979761191531646131?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/7979761191531646131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/quick-thought-of-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/7979761191531646131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/7979761191531646131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/quick-thought-of-day.html' title='Quick Thought Of The Day'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-6564801777119138223</id><published>2010-01-11T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T14:49:22.801-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drug story'/><title type='text'>Sirius Black Does Crystal Meth</title><content type='html'>(I will start this true account with an introductory statement.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story is true and it will be told as I saw it. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew this guy from a while back. Let's just call him Sirius Black. This guy was honestly a different breed of person. The complete African American trickster stereotype, but not cunning and smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jump to my roommate (Nsayel) and I playing Fight Night round 4. Sirius walks in and says, "I went to this porn shoot yesterday." I looked at Nsy like, 'dog either this could be a great story or this is going to end horribly.' He says, 'Man, there was naked bitches everywhere and stuff. And then right there was this table filled with drugs...' I am giving him a blankest look I could give him. Because I know this is going somewhere hilarious, but I don't want to laugh in his face yet. He then says, "Man they had everything on the table, coke, pills, ecs, weed, heroin, and crack, everything, yo! I HAD to try one!" I had to stop him. "I was like so which one did you try." He responded, "This drug called,... you ever heard of Crystal Meth?" Nsy and I looked at each other and back at him. I was like, "Yes. I know what Crystal Meth is..." "Yeah, that's the one I tried. It was cool." I was like, "dog, I don't do drugs, but I understand the appeal. But what I can't understand is of all the drugs on the table. That was your choice? Crystal fucking meth?" He starts to explain that he was curious and he wanted to try something new. Then I responded, "You’re too old to be curious about shit. By now you should know this type of stuff." He explains how he doesn't like the drug; all the while he is scratching his neck. (I don't know if he actually scratched his neck, but I always imagined he was so for the sake of the story he was scratching his neck.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so flabbergasted by the story that I forgot to ask him the fundamental question, why the fuck where you there?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-6564801777119138223?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/6564801777119138223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/don-diego-does-crystal-meth.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/6564801777119138223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/6564801777119138223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/don-diego-does-crystal-meth.html' title='Sirius Black Does Crystal Meth'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-4846022824345356067</id><published>2010-01-02T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T00:04:37.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend Cap</title><content type='html'>Friendships are a funny thing.  We all have them.  You go out with said friend and offer to buy them something.  They see this as your gesture of being a nice, considerate friend.  So they in return pick something reasonable for you to purchase.  This is called a friend cap.  All friends have them.  An, I buy something now and you just get me back later type of friendship.  It's healthy, normal, and an accepted part of society.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I have a friend who continually breaks the friend cap.  It's gotten to a point where I have to now place monetary (if any) restraints on my offer.  Like, if I receive a ride and I offer to pay gas, I have to give an immediate number in fear that he might fill his tank and I be stuck with the bill.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last blatant disregard of the friend cap occurred a few weeks ago.  We were at a popular grocery store with another friend.  I offered to get him something to eat.  He declined.  I then knowing that he drove offered him something to drink.  He accepted.  He picked a lemonade and we were off to the register.  I find out unceremoniously that the drink he chose was a $7 non-alcoholic lemonade.  First off, who the fuck buys any drink (non-alcoholic) that costs over $3 especially on someone else's dime?  What kind of reptilian shit is that?  I mean I know it isn't malicious, but goddamn.  You are with friends.  Why try to take advantage of them? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The protocol for friends is to keep the price reasonable.  And if you feel you are going to go above and beyond, tell your friend.  Say hey, this is this much.  Can I get it.  By doing this you are letting your friend know that you acknowledge you are breaking the friend cap.  That you are respectful of their wallet.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He did not.  He saw this an opportunity to try a drink he wouldn't buy on his own because it was too damn expensive.  The only reason I didn't call him out on it at the store was because a hot girl was in line.  I have a rule.  I never embarrass my homies in front of a hot girl.  Whether they have a shot or not.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now this isn't the first time he has broken the friend cap, and it won't be the last.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So a word to the wise.  Don't break the friend cap.  It only makes you look like a dick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-4846022824345356067?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/4846022824345356067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/friend-cap.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/4846022824345356067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/4846022824345356067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/friend-cap.html' title='Friend Cap'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2949890360570137861.post-262101051292403999</id><published>2010-01-02T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T21:46:23.468-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little about me</title><content type='html'>So, this is my first of many posts.  Just wanted to say thanks for wasting your time reading about my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2949890360570137861-262101051292403999?l=robertlove3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/feeds/262101051292403999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/little-about-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/262101051292403999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2949890360570137861/posts/default/262101051292403999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robertlove3.blogspot.com/2010/01/little-about-me.html' title='A little about me'/><author><name>Robert Louis Love III</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13212510549016106905</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ywI3zuceWA/SzpDcW-yydI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h4nB53KExCI/S220/rjpaint.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
