<?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-20892558</id><updated>2012-02-16T05:21:25.862-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missed Connection  with my MC</title><subtitle type='html'>Searching out the best/funny/wierd/inspiring "Missed Connections" found on Craiglist .org from around the globe.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-115436496184517593</id><published>2006-07-31T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T09:56:01.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MC with YooHoo chocolate drinks</title><content type='html'>Reply to: pers-183625589@craigslist.org&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-07-18, 10:41PM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Original URL: &lt;a href="http://sfbay.craigslist.org/eby/mis/183625589.html"&gt;http://sfbay.craigslist.org/eby/mis/183625589.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I totally miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were always there for me, waiting patiently in your small refrigerated section of my local supermarket. It was with glee that I picked you out from all the other so-called "chocolate" drinks, and happily enjoyed your refreshing taste after dinner.&lt;br /&gt;You stopped coming by. You ran out on me. The once hallowed shelf of your happy home in the supermarket fridge is now barren with your absense, and my after dinner snackage is now only a shell of its former brilliance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were more than just a chocolate drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-115436496184517593?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/115436496184517593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=115436496184517593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/115436496184517593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/115436496184517593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/07/mc-with-yoohoo-chocolate-drinks.html' title='MC with YooHoo chocolate drinks'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-114098030743158508</id><published>2006-02-26T10:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-26T12:11:27.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bucket of honey or honey bucket? Hard to tell - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: pers-137125409@craigslist.org&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-02-26, 5:20AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://sandiego.craigslist.org/mis/137125409.html"&gt;San Diego MC Cl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were the curvy girl, with the short shirt and tight pants trying to get your boyfriend to wake up after falling asleep drunk and driving your car into the septic station. I was the guy with the converted camper bus waiting patiently to dump my overflowing crapper down into the pump station he had just taken out. You carried him to safety through ankle deep feces. I respect your strength and loyalty even though he had the toothless park whore in the passenger seat. It all seemed quite beautiful until you started trying to remove his gold teeth with the leatherman tool you pulled from your back pocket. If only you had looked back at me. I was ready to help hold him down and help you find trust in another man. I've still got that overflowing crapper. Only now my hearts overflowing too for your golden love. If only the pee on the floor of my camperbus could be as golden as your heart shines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; this is in or around Rose Canyon Mobile Home Park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-114098030743158508?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://sandiego.craigslist.org/mis/137125409.html' title='Bucket of honey or honey bucket? Hard to tell - m4w'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/114098030743158508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=114098030743158508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/114098030743158508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/114098030743158508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/02/bucket-of-honey-or-honey-bucket-hard.html' title='Bucket of honey or honey bucket? Hard to tell - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113771228066688436</id><published>2006-02-04T15:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:55:39.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you looked sexy even though - m4w</title><content type='html'>Date: 2006-02-03,  1:15AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;you looked sexy even though - m4w &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;...you were having a seizure. it was in the hair care section at the Vancouver walgreens. i was the guy in the blue shirt holding your legs while that old man put his wallet in your mouth. let's get together when you're feeling less woozy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This made the missed connections in Portland, Janurary 19th, 2006, as well as, the "best of craigslist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND.........................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;you looked sexy even though...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;...you were having a seizure. it was in the hair care section at the noe valley walgreens. i was the guy in the blue shirt holding your legs while that old man put his wallet in your mouth. let's get together when you're feeling less woozy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This made the missed connections in San Francisco, January 29th, 2002, "best of craigslist"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Portland!  Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You re-post a "best of" as your own! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Bad bad bad!  Naughty!  Bad Portland!  You should all get spankings!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The rest of the craigslist community, and Craig too, if he saw this, would spank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 0px; padding-left: 3px; list-style-type: none; list-style-image: none; list-style-position: outside;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around Bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-126689026@craigslist.org?subject=you%20looked%20sexy%20even%20though%20-%20m4w%20"&gt;pers-126689026@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-19, 11:30AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://portland.craigslist.org/mis/126689026.html"&gt;PDX CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...you were having a seizure. it was in the hair care section at the Vancouver walgreens. i was the guy in the blue shirt holding your legs while that old man put his wallet in your mouth. let's get together when you're feeling less woozy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 0px; padding-left: 3px; list-style-type: none; list-style-image: none; list-style-position: outside;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around walgreens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113771228066688436?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113771228066688436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113771228066688436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113771228066688436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113771228066688436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/02/you-looked-sexy-even-though-m4w.html' title='you looked sexy even though - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113755344878374095</id><published>2006-02-03T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:58:50.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>connected with my soul - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-126208948@craigslist.org?subject=connected%20with%20my%20soul%20-%20m4w%20"&gt;pers-126208948@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-17,  5:03PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/mis/126208948.html"&gt;San Fran CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some nights when falling asleep, I feel you connected with my soul. Sometimes it's welcome, other times it feels a deep infringement, because you aren't in my life. Yet another night, I might be invading yours. One dream was sharing a kiss with you at nighttime in the rain. I didn't feel one drop of water, only the connection between us. Your lips against mine, but the connection flowed deeper. Another night, you kneeled down, gazed up into my eyes as if asking if I wanted you. A little farther back in time, I had a dream more erotic than any I've ever dreamt. I kissed slow circles, working my way around your pale perfect breasts. My tongue brushing against your engorged nipples. Many years ago you use to invade my dreams, but it wasn't the same then. The connection wasn't like it is now. They used to be smouldering dreams, and now they're white hot embers. There was also another connection I felt from you recently. You were in a very unpleasant situation. A man was enraged at you, and you were extremely upset, mad, and hurting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113755344878374095?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113755344878374095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113755344878374095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113755344878374095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113755344878374095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/02/connected-with-my-soul-m4w.html' title='connected with my soul - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113884845575162990</id><published>2006-02-02T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:58:10.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Come back, little Benjamins! - 32</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-130473172@craigslist.org?subject=Come%20back,%20little%20Benjamins%21%20-%2032%20"&gt;pers-130473172@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-02-01,  6:46PM EST&lt;br /&gt;New York CL MC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were bereft and alone, abandoned by the one who used to hold on to you so tight. Wrapped simply in black leather, huddled deep into your pockets, I found you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I thought: "Who put the fake cash in this wallet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I quickly learned, there was nothing fake about you. Nothing at all. And our eyes met (all six pair - cause DAY-YUM...ahunneddollar, ya'll). I knew you needed a home, and I needed a good meal. I debated the ethics of our relationship. I dreaded the thought that this was a cruel joke on Cole Haan's part. But no...you were simply waiting to be found by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were about to leave when the sales clerk came up to us, interrupting our moment with her eerily deep solicitious bedroom voice: "Find anything you like?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my conscience kicked my ass. And I let her steal you away from me, for the greater good of all Cole Haan shoppers (and my karma).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come back, little Benjamins! Come back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  * this is in or around Columbus Circle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113884845575162990?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/130473172.html' title='Come back, little Benjamins! - 32'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113884845575162990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113884845575162990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113884845575162990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113884845575162990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/02/come-back-little-benjamins-32.html' title='Come back, little Benjamins! - 32'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113884619719763669</id><published>2006-02-01T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T18:09:57.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I knew this girl once. - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: pers-130167546@craigslist.org&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-02-01, 9:37AM EST&lt;br /&gt;New York CL MC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew this girl once. And she knew me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used to spend nights outside, drinking wine from the bottle, living like the vagrants we thought we were. We both knew where we were going, we both loved where we were from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were just friends, but that didnt stop the perfect nights. Sometimes, when we had enough wine, and we had found that perfect record, and the darkness was perfectly still we both knew what we really wanted. I would press into her and taste the wine on her mouth. She would dig nails into my back. Her eyes always had that flash of danger, of something too much to handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to take her in stairwells as our friends walked on ahead, oblivious. I wanted to rip her shirt in the fury to get my skin onto hers. I wanted to bite her neck until I tasted the salty sweet blood that flowed through her warm body all the way down to her thighs were I could place my hand and feel how much she wanted me too. I wanted to consumer her. I wanted all of this because I was young, and she was young, and there was nothing that would stop us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she lives in Brooklyn now, and I dont. I burnt up, and maybe finally burnt out, but she is there, running through parks at 3am shouting out songs, she is my heart and she belongs there in the heart of the world. I knew this girl once. But she lives in Brooklyn now, and I dont.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113884619719763669?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://newyork.craigslist.org/brk/mis/130167546.html' title='I knew this girl once. - m4w'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113884619719763669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113884619719763669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113884619719763669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113884619719763669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-knew-this-girl-once-m4w.html' title='I knew this girl once. - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113747166981773818</id><published>2006-01-31T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:26:00.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a momentary lapse</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125200712@craigslist.org?subject=a%20momentary%20lapse%20"&gt;pers-125200712@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-13,  8:38PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://sandiego.craigslist.org/mis/125200712.html"&gt;San Diego CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have had some wine, and so am now comfortably careless.&lt;br /&gt;careless enough to say to no one in particular that i miss the brush of your lips...&lt;br /&gt;across mine,&lt;br /&gt;upon my cheek, my hand, my neck.... yes even my neck.&lt;br /&gt;careless enough to admit to no one in particular&lt;br /&gt;(no.... no initials will be given here)&lt;br /&gt;that i can still feel your long warm body along the length of mine,&lt;br /&gt;tonight anyway&lt;br /&gt;with this wine, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow i will have returned to my senses.&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow i will have all the reasons why&lt;br /&gt;i should never have written these lines.&lt;br /&gt;tonight i may be careless enough to send it to the one for whom it was written,&lt;br /&gt;god willing.&lt;br /&gt;god forbid.&lt;br /&gt;a little more wine, please.&lt;br /&gt;for courage, for reckless abandon, for a few more hours of beleiving in the possibility of fantasy...&lt;br /&gt;for a few more hours of forgetting the pain.&lt;br /&gt;(now wasn't that just a load of self-absorbed sh_t!)&lt;br /&gt;my best wishes to the world!&lt;br /&gt;i send you blessings from my cave!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and many thanks for indulging this closet poet,&lt;br /&gt;in this almost-drunken display!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113747166981773818?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113747166981773818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113747166981773818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113747166981773818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113747166981773818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/momentary-lapse.html' title='a momentary lapse'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113868600475340856</id><published>2006-01-30T21:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T21:40:04.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kissing in the Rain - w4m - 29</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-129894426@craigslist.org?subject=Kissing%20in%20the%20Rain%20-%20w4m%20-%2029%20%28sunset%20/%20parkside%29"&gt;pers-129894426@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-30,  4:46PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SAN FRAN CL MC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain reminds me of you.&lt;br /&gt;It makes me think of us curled up on your couch making out like a couple of teenagers while it falls outside.&lt;br /&gt;Our warm bodies pressed up against one another. Your soft warm kisses all over my face and neck.&lt;br /&gt;We move to your room and despite the cold we stay warm. Touching and caressing one another. Trying to memorize every curve of each others body because we don’t know when we’ll get to do it again. When I close my eyes I see you….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve memorized your face, your body and your touch. These memories keep me warm on these cold and rainy nights but they aren’t you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish things could have been different but they aren’t and we don’t want to hurt anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113868600475340856?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/mis/129894426.html' title='Kissing in the Rain - w4m - 29'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113868600475340856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113868600475340856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113868600475340856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113868600475340856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/kissing-in-rain-w4m-29.html' title='Kissing in the Rain - w4m - 29'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113736390588919847</id><published>2006-01-29T14:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:24:58.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So let me tell you... - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125466670@craigslist.org?subject=So%20let%20me%20tell%20you...%20-%20m4w%20"&gt;pers-125466670@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-15,  4:44AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/mis/125466670.html"&gt;Seattle CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are men, not boys&lt;br /&gt;We listen to you and feed off your feminousity&lt;br /&gt;We back up what we say&lt;br /&gt;We speak with truth&lt;br /&gt;We are not religous but spiritual&lt;br /&gt;We die for our brothers&lt;br /&gt;We live for our women&lt;br /&gt;Everything else besides, you are the core of what matters... Thanks for your beauty... a 27 yr old who knows....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113736390588919847?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113736390588919847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113736390588919847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113736390588919847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113736390588919847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/so-let-me-tell-you-m4w_29.html' title='So let me tell you... - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113729104684634581</id><published>2006-01-28T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:24:31.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cold hearted orb that rules the night</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125381926@craigslist.org?subject=cold%20hearted%20orb%20that%20rules%20the%20night%20"&gt;pers-125381926@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-14,  4:18PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/mis/125381926.html"&gt;Seattle CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plains of hesitation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lie the bleached bones of countless millions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who sat down to wait—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while they waited,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around the full moon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113729104684634581?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113729104684634581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113729104684634581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113729104684634581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113729104684634581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/cold-hearted-orb-that-rules-night.html' title='cold hearted orb that rules the night'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113727061492073815</id><published>2006-01-26T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:23:26.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love can't live on SPAM alone - w4m</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125026914@craigslist.org?subject=Love%20can%27t%20live%20on%20SPAM%20alone%20-%20w4m%20"&gt;pers-125026914@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-13,  9:30AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/mis/125026914.html"&gt;Seattle CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want a rolex,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or a penis enlargement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or viagra, levitra, or cialis...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and/or (preferably and)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want us to understand one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're better than this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want us to be much more than this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it that you want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;t&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113727061492073815?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113727061492073815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113727061492073815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113727061492073815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113727061492073815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/love-cant-live-on-spam-alone-w4m.html' title='Love can&apos;t live on SPAM alone - w4m'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113726999841988592</id><published>2006-01-25T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:23:00.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To all the women I missed - m4w - 27</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125228849@craigslist.org?subject=To%20all%20the%20women%20I%20missed%20-%20m4w%20-%2027%20"&gt;pers-125228849@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-14, 12:39AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/mis/125228849.html"&gt;Seattle CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all the women I missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women, with your beautiful smiles, hiding amongst the avocados,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your eyes haunting and alluring, darting and then meeting suddenly with mine while I am getting coffee.  Your casual banter about donuts and pies excites me.  I bring fire from the mountain and give you strength to get donuts of your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all the women whose smile has brightened my day, whose mere existence has made me say "Damn!". To all the hot moms.  To all the hot college girls.  To all the hot high school girls, er, I mean college girls.  To all the women in all the coffee shops in all the world: I love you! Lets have sex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 0px; padding-left: 3px; list-style-type: none; list-style-image: none; list-style-position: outside;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around Anywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113726999841988592?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113726999841988592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113726999841988592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113726999841988592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113726999841988592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/to-all-women-i-missed-m4w-27.html' title='To all the women I missed - m4w - 27'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113809150018936691</id><published>2006-01-24T00:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T00:31:40.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow I will be fine, but I just can't lose anymore tonight - m4w - 45</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-127966466@craigslist.org?subject=Tomorrow%20I%20will%20be%20fine,%20but%20I%20just%20can%27t%20lose%20anymore%20tonight%20-%20m4w%20-%2045%20"&gt;pers-127966466@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-23, 10:28PM PST&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tomorrow I will be fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I just can’t lose anymore tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When do I deserve to find someone who gives as I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory searches for that sweet boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who had yet to learn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the loneliness of losing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to call you up and tell you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that tomorrow I will be fine,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I just can’t lose anymore tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you’re not there, because you were never there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were safe in my virtual love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and tonight you are gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is no one left to tell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that tomorrow I will be fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I just can’t lose anymore tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113809150018936691?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/mis/127966466.html' title='Tomorrow I will be fine, but I just can&apos;t lose anymore tonight - m4w - 45'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113809150018936691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113809150018936691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113809150018936691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113809150018936691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/tomorrow-i-will-be-fine-but-i-just.html' title='Tomorrow I will be fine, but I just can&apos;t lose anymore tonight - m4w - 45'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113808517425331114</id><published>2006-01-23T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T22:46:14.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Who let Her Bike Shit on the Bart</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-127965554@craigslist.org?subject=To%20the%20Girl%20Who%20let%20Her%20Bike%20Shit%20on%20the%20Bart%20-%20m4w%20-%2056%20%28oakland%20lake%20merritt%20/%20grand%29"&gt;pers-127965554@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-23, 10:21PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;San Fran CL MC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's great.  Just fine! You know why they don't let animals on the BART!? because they shit on it! and then people step on it and their feet smell like shit for weeks!  I saw you pull a large clod of shit out of your bike wheel and then just left it there to stink up the whole train.  If you can't house train your bike don't take it on the bart, or next time some one will shove that shit up your ass and make you shit it out again into a toilet where shit should be shat! Shit!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113808517425331114?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.craigslist.org/eby/mis/127965554.html' title='Girl Who let Her Bike Shit on the Bart'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113808517425331114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113808517425331114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113808517425331114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113808517425331114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/girl-who-let-her-bike-shit-on-bart.html' title='Girl Who let Her Bike Shit on the Bart'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113800028680986877</id><published>2006-01-22T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T23:11:26.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MC w/the thieving bastard..</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-127359071@craigslist.org?subject=MC%20w/the%20thieving%20bastard%20who%20stole%20my%20dryer%20sheets%20"&gt;pers-127359071@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-21,  8:51PM EST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Washington DC CL MC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just doing my laundry, you bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just me.  Maybe I'm the only person who thought it would be okay to leave my box of dryer sheets in the laundry room while the clothes were washing.  I leave my laundry basket there all the time.  Nobody's ever stolen it.  So why would dryer sheets be any different if I happen to take them downstairs before I need them and just leave them there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While dryer sheets are really good at getting rid of static cling, apparently your fingers have far more static than even a whole box can deal with, because they sure as hell stuck to yours.  You should see a doctor about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Iran, the court-appointed doctor would chop your hand off.  That'd cure you.  There are Iranians living in this building.  I don't know if they're chopping or non-chopping Iranians, but I wouldn't mess with them.  They'll fuck you up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, if you'd run out and just needed a couple to finish your laundry, I wouldn't have minded.  No big deal.  I'm the oldest of three, I learned to share at an early age.  But you, you stole an entire unopened box.  And it's not as though you could possibly have mistaken them for yours; I left them in MY laundry basket which was sitting on top of the washing machine in which were washing MY clothes.  (I guess I should consider myself lucky you didn't steal my clothes.  Probably weren't your size.  Yeah, I saw you in there with your friend.  I know who you are.  Bitch.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I bet you thought it was real funny to leave a used dryer sheet in my laundry basket.  I bet you're real proud of that one.  Keep pulling stunts like that and you'll be on Jimmy Kimmel in no time.  Oh yeah, you're a fucking comedic genius all right.  I bet you just kill 'em down at the improv.  "So I stole this guy's dryer sheets the other day.  And, um, he's going to have really bad static?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what?  I still had some upstairs.  My jeans are static-free, so you, you fucking Bounce-stealing bastard, can kiss my dryer-fresh ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113800028680986877?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/mis/127359071.html' title='MC w/the thieving bastard..'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113800028680986877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113800028680986877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113800028680986877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113800028680986877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/mc-wthe-thieving-bastard.html' title='MC w/the thieving bastard..'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113783825967264597</id><published>2006-01-21T02:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T02:10:59.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>screw you - m4m</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-127178058@craigslist.org?subject=screw%20you%20-%20m4m%20"&gt;pers-127178058@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-21,  1:31AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;San Fran CL MC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck it.  I think I've finally come 'round to just wanting you completely the fuck out of my life.  I'm tired of you, your bullshit, you half-assed and selfish approach towards friendships, relationships and humankind in general.  There's still nothing more important in your life than your ego and your next stupid fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like moron for putting up with you this long.  Get used to the voicemail greeting.  That's the last of my voice you'll be hearing until you finally get the idea you've been written-off entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get back to being your shitty old self.  You've got another new one to distract you from your conscience and low self-esteem.  Enjoy it while it lasts, because that's the best you'll ever get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113783825967264597?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.craigslist.org/eby/mis/127178058.html' title='screw you - m4m'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113783825967264597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113783825967264597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113783825967264597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113783825967264597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/screw-you-m4m.html' title='screw you - m4m'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113721264893131417</id><published>2006-01-20T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:21:31.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smitten........</title><content type='html'>Reply to: pers-124113262@craigslist.org&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-10, 7:05AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://eugene.craigslist.org/mis/124113262.html"&gt;Eugene OR CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it late where you are; lips sore from kissing? Parts of the body aching from teeth too close together? Is it hard where you are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not so much a missed connection as a connection that has been missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've unzipped me; temple to temple, third-eye-down. I crave your compassion, seek your wisdom, treasure your opinion, chase your dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sleep deprived lust, embodiment of primality, seduction of images, wetness of mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm blinded, bound; bitten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; * this is in or around Inside your head&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113721264893131417?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113721264893131417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113721264893131417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113721264893131417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113721264893131417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/smitten.html' title='Smitten........'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113771356742376456</id><published>2006-01-19T15:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T15:32:47.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the princess who could not be - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-126784026@craigslist.org?subject=the%20princess%20who%20could%20not%20be%20-%20m4w%20"&gt;pers-126784026@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-19,  3:20PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/mis/126784026.html"&gt;San Fran Cl MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i am withdrawing from a drug right now. my body aches and my&lt;br /&gt;mind can't stop thinking about getting more of what will make me feel&lt;br /&gt;better, even though i know that it is the most toxic thing i can have and&lt;br /&gt;will only make me hurt more. i want to hear her, see her, touch her and feel&lt;br /&gt;her. i feel incapable of any rational thought, that my body will do anything&lt;br /&gt;to regain the closeness of her. i am reminded each moment that she is not&lt;br /&gt;here, that she has done everything that i need her to do in order to make me&lt;br /&gt;despise her yet i still feel a tremendous longing for her. I am afraid for&lt;br /&gt;her safety and comfort, i am afraid that she will not learn how to deal with&lt;br /&gt;these issues, that she will spend the rest of her life lost and in pain,&lt;br /&gt;that she will repeat these mistakes perpetually. i want her to be okay, i&lt;br /&gt;want her to know that i still love her that i still care so deeply for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have done everything in my capacity to make this work. i have given&lt;br /&gt;chances past chances. i have tried to be as honest and clear as possible. i&lt;br /&gt;have been stepped on and treated like dirt, had shit piled on top of shit,&lt;br /&gt;learned that one can be loved and still disrespected and that i am capable&lt;br /&gt;of making boundaries and keeping them, but he amount of pain required to get&lt;br /&gt;here has been devastating. i can say 'i love you you stupid cruel bitch' in&lt;br /&gt;one sentence and feel the deepest pain i have ever known. I have stayed&lt;br /&gt;sober until now and do not plan on giving up tomorrow. i have relied heavily&lt;br /&gt;on the support of my friends, sometimes asked too much of them, but only&lt;br /&gt;because i know they can give it to me. i will continue to rely on them to&lt;br /&gt;carry me through the fire because they are the only god i know right now.&lt;br /&gt;the complexity of emotion i carry within me, the confusion of feelings i am&lt;br /&gt;going through and the insanity i feel are overpowering to me. I feel as&lt;br /&gt;though at any moment my heart will burst through my chest and my head will&lt;br /&gt;spin away from me. thoughts of suicide and drinking pass through me and the&lt;br /&gt;words of people who care about me talk me through the agony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am afraid to be anywhere right now. i am afraid that i will not let myself&lt;br /&gt;fall in love again, that i will make myself lonely rather than love another&lt;br /&gt;person. i must use the friends around me to learn how to be honest, to set&lt;br /&gt;boundaries, to love someone as a friend, to feel sadness and true emotion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113771356742376456?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113771356742376456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113771356742376456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113771356742376456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113771356742376456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/princess-who-could-not-be-m4w.html' title='the princess who could not be - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113771238391518012</id><published>2006-01-18T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:56:53.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RE: you looked sexy even though - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-126767961@craigslist.org?subject=RE:%20you%20looked%20sexy%20even%20though%20-%20m4w%20"&gt;pers-126767961@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-19,  2:22PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://portland.craigslist.org/mis/126767961.html"&gt;PDX CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ER Nurse,&lt;/span&gt; I think that it was nice that you wanted to help, but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NEVER&lt;/span&gt; hold someone down when they are having a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;seizure&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NEVER&lt;/span&gt; put &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anything in their mouth!!&lt;/span&gt; Call 911 and turn them one their side (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so they don't choke on their vomit/swallow their tongue&lt;/span&gt;) and let the seizure run it's course. You could have hurt that sexy someone the way you handled that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113771238391518012?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113771238391518012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113771238391518012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113771238391518012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113771238391518012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/re-you-looked-sexy-even-though-m4w.html' title='RE: you looked sexy even though - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113720902285915339</id><published>2006-01-17T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:56:33.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's come to this... - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125175480@craigslist.org?subject=It%27s%20come%20to%20this...%20-%20m4w%20"&gt;pers-125175480@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-13,  6:16PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/sby/mis/125175480.html"&gt;SF CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this scene I now see from above - a certain distance - there is the girl on the couch and a boy, back turned, bathed in the blue haze of the stereo. The boy beginning to talk doesn't notice what is happening but he soon turns around.  It is the first time he sees you cry.  You are beautiful to him and he now knows that you have been hurt and you have carried it here - to this point in time, just like himself.  How he knew what to say then, knew his small gift, the one thing salvaged from a past pain he once endured.  Words that whispered calm to your heart, like only the words of another can.  Oh how he once spoke to you from this place. In time he would forget this gift, forget himself.  How he wishes to be spoken the words that release us from the burden of the world, of ourselves - words that can only come from another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 0px; padding-left: 3px; list-style-type: none; list-style-image: none; list-style-position: outside;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around memories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113720902285915339?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113720902285915339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113720902285915339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113720902285915339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113720902285915339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/its-come-to-this-m4w.html' title='It&apos;s come to this... - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113761937187468734</id><published>2006-01-16T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:50:02.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RE: Comfort Food (downtown / civic / van ness)</title><content type='html'>(downtown / civic / van ness)&lt;br /&gt;Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-126446343@craigslist.org?subject=RE:%20Comfort%20Food%20%28downtown%20/%20civic%20/%20van%20ness%29"&gt;pers-126446343@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-18,  1:11PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/mis/126446343.html"&gt;SAN FRAN CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this world comfort should be seen as a loving and giving thing, to offer comfort, love and nurturing to those whom you love, it is highly under rated.  In a world that gives little comfort, to want that for those you love is not a selfish or bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expounding on the true nature of love is meaningless unless you have actually practiced it.  It is just intellectualizing it and making sound as though you know what it is.  Until you have held your child’s head when they are sick, listened to their hurts and pain, honored them when they should have been so honored instead of making a mockery of them, then your words of love are empty. Until you take their hurt and pain into your heart and wish more for them than you wish for yourself, you can never know love and this I know to be true.  I've done it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words that come out of books have no value in the world of humans.  Actions always speak louder than words, the deeds done, the efforts one puts forth to those that are lovable and deserve true love. You have failed at this and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lack of support, real support to help them be better people rather than saying that they probably never will be actualized is wholly unloving.  Until you have lived it, day after day, you cannot know what is love is no matter how well spoken the words.  It is always in the deed, not the words.  Efforts put forth to others for the need of validation and popularity and more, is not love.  Love in it’s purest form is selfless, not self serving.  You may have throngs of people who like you, but love is something that comes with hard work, attention, nurturing and so much more.  Role play has nothing to do with love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the magnificent and intelligent words can never come close to making up for what one never did, when one should have.  To neglect the very heart of a child is not love, it is selfish and unforgiving.  To lie on their lives is the mirror opposite of love.  Love is in the doing, the giving and to let your child know who you are and to want to know who they are. Time spent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Demeaning their very birth is to reject them in the most cruel way imaginable.  To have derided them here on such a forum in such a low way is unforgivable.  You know nothing about love, again and again I will say it and know it true.  I never saw you express real love to anyone, sex is confused with an ability to love.  They have nothing to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may think you know but you don't and the reason I know this is simple.  I would rather take the hurt and pain of all this, than to have them hurt and you instead lie on their live and those whom they love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know nothing about love at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113761937187468734?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113761937187468734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113761937187468734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113761937187468734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113761937187468734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/re-comfort-food-downtown-civic-van_16.html' title='RE: Comfort Food (downtown / civic / van ness)'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113757084247009457</id><published>2006-01-15T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:49:42.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're still remembered...</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-124949203@craigslist.org?subject=You%27re%20still%20remembered...%20"&gt;pers-124949203@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-13, 12:12AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://losangeles.craigslist.org/mis/124949203.html"&gt;LA CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved her with a pureness of youth that could never be re-found.  Things are different, maybe, when a heart is young.  The world hadn’t shown us pain yet, and love is true and naïve without being tainted by reality of later years.  At times, when I’m especially feeling lonely, I’ll think about where she might have been now had she lived.  I wonder how she would have grown, what she would look like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been fifteen years today, Melanie, when I held you in my teenage arms as you bled to death.  Don’t worry, I’ve learned to grow and move on in life, but on this day, your memory will always remain tucked inside a corner of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, more than anything, I’d love to sit with you again, just one more time under the trees, and do nothing but make silly small talk and smile shyly at each other.  Experiencing that innocence of youth, that brief moment in life, where our futures were before us, and our pasts were too small to yet have meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113757084247009457?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113757084247009457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113757084247009457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113757084247009457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113757084247009457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/youre-still-remembered.html' title='You&apos;re still remembered...'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113756992575258598</id><published>2006-01-14T23:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:49:21.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>comfort foods in your minds eye</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-126283070@craigslist.org?subject=comfort%20foods%20in%20your%20minds%20eye%20"&gt;pers-126283070@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-17, 11:16PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/mis/126283070.html"&gt;SAN FRAN CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge me without mystery, without warrant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn off the camera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I fly free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;find my way home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of goodness and purity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of body and mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slow to wake for cravings&lt;br /&gt;of peace ... tranquility&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slowly and surely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It seems easier to be God than to love God, easier to control people than to love people." - Henri Nouwen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more. No posts for sweetness Gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or sadness In, or friendship lost ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT has been Said, then, there and allaround.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Patchwork...Frayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To save a quilt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No More To Be Said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...please say nothing more for me here... I don't hate you.  Just let us go without words spoken...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around ...not so distant future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113756992575258598?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113756992575258598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113756992575258598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113756992575258598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113756992575258598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/comfort-foods-in-your-minds-eye.html' title='comfort foods in your minds eye'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113711818032675936</id><published>2006-01-13T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:49:03.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to make love</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-124869144@craigslist.org?subject=How%20to%20make%20love%20"&gt;pers-124869144@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-12,  4:37PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/mis/124869144.html"&gt;SF CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW TO MAKE LOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;4 Laughing eyes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;4 Well-shaped legs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;4 Loving arms&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 Firm milk containers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 Nuts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 Fur-lined mixing bowl&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 Firm banana&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Directions:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Look into laughing eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Spread well-shaped legs with loving arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Squeeze and massage milk containers very gently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Gently add firm banana to mixing bowl, working in and out until well creamed. For best results. Continue to knead milk containers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. As heat rises, plunge banana deep into mixing bowl and cover with nuts, leave to soak (preferably NOT overnight).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The cake is done when banana is soft. If banana does not soften, repeat 4 steps 3-5 or change mixing bowls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Notes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you are in an unfamiliar kitchen, wash utensils carefully before and after use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do not lick mixing bowl after use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If cake rises, leave town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is in or around San Francisco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 0px; padding-left: 3px; list-style-type: none; list-style-image: none; list-style-position: outside;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113711818032675936?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113711818032675936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113711818032675936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113711818032675936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113711818032675936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/how-to-make-love.html' title='How to make love'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113753349533501750</id><published>2006-01-12T13:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:48:42.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I caught your eye while you were walking somewhere - m4w</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-126096208@craigslist.org?subject=I%20caught%20your%20eye%20while%20you%20were%20walking%20somewhere%20%20-%20m4w%20"&gt;pers-126096208@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-17, 10:51AM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://portland.craigslist.org/mis/126096208.html"&gt;Portland OR CL MC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I caught your eye while you were walking somewhere and I was walking somewhere else. Or possibly we were both sitting. Or maybe one of us was walking. Or you might have actually have been driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the chemistry between us -- wow. The path from your eyes to mine was like a sunbeam of sex, a moonbeam of michief and mirth and musty, lusty September loving. Or August loving maybe. This might have been last Christmas. Anyway, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were a svelte brunette with indie-rock glasses playing harpichord, or a bootylicious blonde in black hotpants volunteering at the homeless shelter. Or you might have been a sassy redhead college coed smoking a doobie. Or somewhere in between. Anyway, you were hot. Or cute. Or you had kind of your own style going, and it was sexy. Or you were mostly covered up and I couldn't totally tell. Or you were dancing on a table and I was dropping singles like they was jacks on the pavement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we saw each other in Denver (it might have been Miami) and it was a thing of beauty, except for its brevity. But I felt something special, something special where it counts. I wish I had talked to you. I bet you wish you had talked to me. I bet it keeps you up at night. I bet you'd die for a second chance. I bet twenty-five dollars on the Seattle Seahawks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want a second chance to blow this opportunity to try your luck at loving, please contact me via email. Or just meet me next weekend at Starbucks or on I/5. I'll be the one wearing a shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we can make this into something. It could be love. Or it could just be a really awesome roll in the hay, and then an awkward run-in three weeks later at the hardware store. Or maybe we'll become worst of enemies, and you'll key my car once with your friends when you're drunk. Or maybe it could be five or six awesome rolls in the hay. Or maybe we can just be friends, and I can boff your sister. Or maybe it could be eight or nine awesome rolls in the hay. The possibilities are literally without limit!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know what I'm talking about, and I think you do, or possibly you don't, please, please, please send me an email. You know you won't regret it. Probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around somewhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113753349533501750?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113753349533501750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113753349533501750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113753349533501750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113753349533501750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-caught-your-eye-while-you-were.html' title='I caught your eye while you were walking somewhere - m4w'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113709504219517192</id><published>2006-01-11T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:47:34.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you and i. thee and thou. ubiquitous we</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-124654615@craigslist.org?subject=you%20and%20i.%20%20thee%20and%20thou.%20%20ubiquitous%20we%20"&gt;pers-124654615@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-11, 10:50PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/mis/124654615.html"&gt;Seatle CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not I and you.  You and I are not.  Any more than we were.  We saved ourselves from ever uttering we and covered that ground (not the train track runs parallel to the river given the hills and indian valley ground) a long long long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You lived in a house that was not a house, and the pronouns got blurry when they were too close to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intimate is from long ago?  Itimate is from thee and thou?  Intimate is if I memorize a list, shit, I already recited the list to a colleague earlier today, but she had to go to a knife sharpening class with a friend so could not accept the last minute invitation.  Who am I kidding, I would accept any last minute invitation, I remind myself at the last minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not alone you and I.  It is a game you can refuse to play, but in the wanting, in the desire, we are not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As in we were not consolable, see also, want will not undo itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made me weep was where was I in your life?  I know so well, I remember everything, where I was when I knew you in your house and in your town and in your bed and in your car and in your office and in the bed the stairwell in your pants your mouth your bed oh in your grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was what made me weep no more no less.  Not even the dynamite it would take to blow me up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113709504219517192?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113709504219517192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113709504219517192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113709504219517192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113709504219517192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/you-and-i-thee-and-thou-ubiquitous-we.html' title='you and i. thee and thou. ubiquitous we'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113738804481528816</id><published>2006-01-10T21:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:57:45.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If only I could.. - m4w (palo alto)</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125634213@craigslist.org?subject=If%20only%20I%20could..%20-%20m4w%20%28palo%20alto%29"&gt;pers-125634213@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-15,  6:44PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/pen/mis/125634213.html"&gt;San Fran CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would erase time and bring us back to last summer,&lt;br /&gt;of warm days, an unexpected attraction, an innocent romance&lt;br /&gt;and start all over again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could I would jump back into your arms this instant..&lt;br /&gt;wrap my body around you, lay with you where you sleep..&lt;br /&gt;wake up next to you smiling..&lt;br /&gt;and erase every painful moment..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could, I would deliver you your dream, on a silver platter&lt;br /&gt;and be that old couple you so often talked about becoming.. boring and in love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could, I would love you all over again,&lt;br /&gt;but this time show you every second, every moment that I cared..&lt;br /&gt;But time marches on, and I can't change that.. or how you feel about me..&lt;br /&gt;And if I could... i wouldn't stop loving you forever...&lt;br /&gt;which is the one thing.. the only thing, I can control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.  Always will. Always yours..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113738804481528816?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113738804481528816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113738804481528816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113738804481528816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113738804481528816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/if-only-i-could-m4w-palo-alto.html' title='If only I could.. - m4w (palo alto)'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113726952461853703</id><published>2006-01-07T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:46:58.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet me at Bud Island.....</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-125143489@craigslist.org?subject=Meet%20me%20at%20Bud%20Island.....%20"&gt;pers-125143489@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-13,  3:52PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://eugene.craigslist.org/mis/125143489.html"&gt;Eugene OR CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I should have been straight with you in the beginning but I wasn't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know when you left I should have found you and apologized but I didn't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know 5 years is a long time to wait for a truthful explanation but you did...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you know the whole truth, I know it's too little too late...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given the events of the years previous, it is hard not to see things in quite a different light. (Know what I mean?) Take, for example, a monotonous drive home from a day of work. I'm sure the desire to work has been greatly overcome by a desire to spend time in quiet introspection, but life must go on. While absorbed in this very introspection on the way home, things begin the gradual recession into a soft, warm blur. You barely even notice the time fly by as you instinctually head along the same route you've no doubt taken hundreds of times. Although the radio drones on and on, you barely even hear it as you sit alone in your thoughts. Up ahead you see the yellow of the stoplight and gently apply pressure to the breaks without so much as giving it a second thought. Rolling to a stop at the head of the intersection just as the light changes to red you find yourself staring, almost mesmerized by the intense red of the light. As countless thoughts clamor inside your head, you cannot help but realize that your eyes are still fixated directly on the light. A flash of movement high in the sky above finally catches your eye and you notice a small flock of birds flying overhead. Normally, such a sight wouldn't warrant even a look, but you do a double take just to watch them fly. Their silhouette against the gray sky provides a striking contrast that you haven't noticed anytime before. Just as they disappear behind some trees you become acutely aware of the trees themselves. The green of the leaves, the trunks shooting straight up out of the ground, the mish-mashed tangle of branches, all things that you never stopped to look at before, but suddenly seem so clear to you right now. At that moment you realize you are alone. No, not alone in your wait for a green light, but alone in other aspects; namely the fact that you don't have someone to share this moment with. You wonder how nice it might be to have someone in your life that would be able appreciate moments such as this one today, or tomorrow… any day really. Someone who would... BEEP... BEEP... It is the person in the car behind you. That red light you had been so intently staring at had turned to green moments ago. You let off the breaks and head on your way, but still thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish things could be different...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know my sunshine is gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113726952461853703?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113726952461853703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113726952461853703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113726952461853703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113726952461853703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/meet-me-at-bud-island_07.html' title='Meet me at Bud Island.....'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113721244400115087</id><published>2006-01-06T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:46:32.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my life - 30</title><content type='html'>Reply to: pers-121787434@craigslist.org&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-01, 3:33PM CST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://neworleans.craigslist.org/mis/121787434.html"&gt;New Orleans CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anybody seen it. so much time invested. so many chances passed. how did it all slip by like this. sucks to be me. fuck you karma. you didnt have to take it all at once. cunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  * this is in or around the oh so fancy westbank&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113721244400115087?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113721244400115087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113721244400115087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113721244400115087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113721244400115087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-life-30.html' title='my life - 30'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113713749179771357</id><published>2006-01-05T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:46:10.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>by the light of the Moon...</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-124024207@craigslist.org?subject=by%20the%20light%20of%20the%20Moon...%20"&gt;pers-124024207@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/mis/124024207.html"&gt;Seattle CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we experience such turbulent emotions, it is difficult&lt;br /&gt;to believe that we could ever feel harmony and peace within&lt;br /&gt;ourselves again.&lt;br /&gt;Highly charged feelings cause havoc in our lives, and when&lt;br /&gt;The Moon appears you can be sure there are&lt;br /&gt;issues in your life that are causing confusion and mixed&lt;br /&gt;emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a step back and view your situation from a different perspective&lt;br /&gt;and with a calmer logic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, The Moon does represent powerful feelings and it&lt;br /&gt;isn't always easy to gain clarity: we often can't see the&lt;br /&gt;wood for the trees'.  The path to clarity and understanding&lt;br /&gt;is a challenging one, yet despite the emotional wrenches&lt;br /&gt;you may feel, it is right for you.&lt;br /&gt;For example, if you are in a situation where you need to&lt;br /&gt;let go of a lover or partner for whatever reason, but&lt;br /&gt;emotionally cannot summon up the courage to do so, even&lt;br /&gt;though you know it's the right thing to do, trust that the&lt;br /&gt;new path you seek is right for you.&lt;br /&gt;Often when a decision is very difficult and causes strong&lt;br /&gt;emotional resistance within us, we allow our weaker nature&lt;br /&gt;to rule. However, in many of these situations it is a brave&lt;br /&gt;heart and clear mind that help us see through the fog of&lt;br /&gt;unruly emotion and step onto our true path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Moon not only represents illusion caused by powerful&lt;br /&gt;emotions, but also illusion or trickery created by other&lt;br /&gt;people's lies or misleading behavior.  Therefore, when The&lt;br /&gt;Moon appears in a reading, it's a good idea to question&lt;br /&gt;your motives and those of people close to you, and it is&lt;br /&gt;best to refrain from making firm decisions until you know&lt;br /&gt;and feel a sense of certainty about your choices.&lt;br /&gt;The light of The Moon does in some way shed light upon&lt;br /&gt;the right path for us, but because we cannot see clearly&lt;br /&gt;in dim light we doubt ourselves and hold back from taking&lt;br /&gt;the steps forward.&lt;br /&gt;The Moon may suggest that your avoidance to take action or&lt;br /&gt;make a tough decision about a certain situation is simply&lt;br /&gt;due to fear of loss. Fear has much to do with The Moon, and&lt;br /&gt;courage is always needed to conquer fear, so take your time&lt;br /&gt;when The Moon appears and search for your inner courage.&lt;br /&gt;With patience you will find the clarity you&lt;br /&gt;seek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://a.im.craigslist.org/yV/YY/TxxjqIYPkD1eYJXiz6dkxr9HXdut.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113713749179771357?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113713749179771357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113713749179771357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113713749179771357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113713749179771357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/by-light-of-moon.html' title='by the light of the Moon...'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113713617228526077</id><published>2006-01-04T23:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:45:48.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>beetween the lines</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-124932714@craigslist.org?subject=beetween%20the%20lines%20"&gt;pers-124932714@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-12,  9:55PM PST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/mis/124932714.html"&gt;Seatle CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading beetween the lines I see something different. I am occasionally bitten due to reading beetween the lines but thats just my nature. I am a person of action for I am true to my sign. I quite often make snap decisions due to a feeling. I do not wait for life to pass me by, or for something to maybe happen, I step out of the cold into the sun and open my eyes, I look to see what I can see. Right now I see something that wasnt there, I know it wasnt because I looked before. I see something now. I do not see love, or anything like that, I see a pathway but it is still tattered with our lives debris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems there is a paralellity that is encasing our every conversation, as we see through the same glass pane, arbitrate issues the same, agree on everything, and somehow even finish each others sentences. I just find it very odd thats all. I am in a precarious situation, and well, yours is terminable. I suggest nothing, I just cannot help but wonder what it is Im wondering, if that makes sense. So we shall continue doing what we do best, debating the tolerances of life, love, and happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you should know, I am not going anywhere. I may seem to be, but I am not. If we are never anything more than friends, thats fine, although there is definetly chemistry, but the level is still unclear. Maybe I have said too much latley and you have said too little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a thought from too much free time....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 0px; padding-left: 3px; list-style-type: none; list-style-image: none; list-style-position: outside;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around next to your line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113713617228526077?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113713617228526077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113713617228526077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113713617228526077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113713617228526077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/beetween-lines.html' title='beetween the lines'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113712285956332052</id><published>2006-01-03T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:45:16.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MC with properly written MC's</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:anon-124177867@craigslist.org"&gt;anon-124177867@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: Tue Jan 10 10:30:24 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seattle.craigslist.org/about/best/chi/124177867.html"&gt;Best of Craigslist : Chicago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer:  I read MC's with a pathetic frequency, and I have consistently been troubled by some people's inability to write acceptable missed connections.  I know all of these have been said before, but damn it, no one listens.  So if everyone could kindly follow my instructions, it would cut down on a good deal of bullshit, which, for all I care, can get relocated to the hopelessly polluted Rants and Raves section.  Thank you for your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. MC's with inanimate objects, memories, emotions etc., ie, my sanity, good chow mein, someone who shares my affinity for whirly ball.  These are not true MC's and they are never interesting in any manner.  Kindly post them elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Vague as fuck MC's that aren't really MC's, but are lovelorn laments, instead.  Ex:  A, miss you, love L.  Get an anonymous livejournal, you jerk.  Trust me, Ashleigh, Antonio, Amit, Ava and Arty don't want to waste anytime wondering if Larry, Lupi, Lazarus, Luigi, or Lisa is missing them.  Every other letter of the alphabet just doesn’t care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Your eyes are like roses, upon my soul's nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Love, so much love, for you, my angel above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how shitty poetry is?  Post it on your damn livejournal and dedicate it, with love, from L, to A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Dawn J, where are you?  Hey, Dawn J!  Dawn J!  Dawn J!!!! I love you!  No.  One post, per week, for 2 weeks at most.  After that, give it up, you annoying bastard.  Dawn J, David from Ghiradelli, the Delilah's door guy, your grad school prof. have all gotten the message and don’t care, and neither do the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Brown Hair on the Brown Line!  (Chicago)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had brown hair on the brown line. So did I!  Let's get java!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, please put more details, so we can avoid the subsequent 20 posts begging for more specifics.  Wait, I have brown hair AND I ride the brown line!  Do you mean me?  oh please, please, be talking about me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I do realize the hypocrisy of posting this in MC's, yes. I apologize for any inconvenience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113712285956332052?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113712285956332052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113712285956332052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113712285956332052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113712285956332052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/mc-with-properly-written-mcs.html' title='MC with properly written MC&apos;s'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113710143707990419</id><published>2006-01-02T12:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:42:00.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>About</title><content type='html'>We here on CL are just a sea of hands grabbing at straws. Waiting for that small inkling ---it could be  a word or phrase which ignites our memories, sending  us in a mad dash for the reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say us, it is due to the massive chain reaction that one great letter can evoke from so many different individuals.  Rarely are there any initials in a post --- but that doesn't matter,  the healing process for some is never finished.  These individuals do not rationalize mere initials, but the words, they swear, are a message for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the MC on any craigslist board --- well maybe not ANY as allot of the cities haven't discovered the boards yet. But on the most frequented boards you will see a trail of responses, and each of these responses is from a different poster. A irrational domino effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are those who do not consult the boards for their own MC --- only to start trouble, unleashing the insecurities, cruel treatment they have felt in their own lives. They perhaps seek revenge? Well we shall never know as they remain nameless ego mongers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are the nameless posters who have honest questions --- what about these posts which go un-answered?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I have started a blog in their tribute. I will see where it goes, and the journey it take me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113710143707990419?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113710143707990419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113710143707990419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113710143707990419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113710143707990419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/about.html' title='About'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20892558.post-113721343032419150</id><published>2006-01-01T20:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T14:41:43.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss you...</title><content type='html'>Reply to: &lt;a href="mailto:pers-124603822@craigslist.org?subject=I%20miss%20you...%20"&gt;pers-124603822@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2006-01-10,  8:14PM CST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://chicago.craigslist.org/mis/124603822.html"&gt;Chicago CL MC&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a slave to King Zarkon, locked in the tower of castle doom, when I saw you emerge from the dark night sky.  I miss your shinny exterior.  Your gentle, yet firm grasp.  Your ability to shoot rockets out of your shoulders.  Voltron! Oh, Voltron, where are you my dear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; this is in or around 1982&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://a.im.craigslist.org/dw/SN/GxThR1DhG34kng7gd9losrKUQBuV.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20892558-113721343032419150?l=flickrd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/feeds/113721343032419150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20892558&amp;postID=113721343032419150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113721343032419150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20892558/posts/default/113721343032419150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flickrd.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you...'/><author><name>Amber *</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JTFz14rWGzs/SNA5koWVmZI/AAAAAAAAA4U/2LkKKtvF5hA/S220/profile+pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
