<?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-32709264</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:27:30.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misplaced Space</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MissQuote</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05617038593995153423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/10094555.0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32709264.post-115999818093891820</id><published>2006-10-04T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T07:22:38.085-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you be my mommy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/PH2006100700585.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="284" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/320/PH2006100700585.0.jpg" width="241" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/Zahara_Brad_Pitt_Angelina_Jolie_Maddox_Aeroporto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px" height="239" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/320/Zahara_Brad_Pitt_Angelina_Jolie_Maddox_Aeroporto.jpg" width="219" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" height="215" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/320/farrow.jpg" width="170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/farrow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;step right up folks and claim the latest fashion accessory. It's a one of a kind , exotic, and comes in varying colors. Plus your parenting skills will not be taken into consideration. As long as you can afford it, it's yours.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ok, so I suppose it's not fair to group Mia with the rest of 'em but if anyone had a compulsive adoption disorder it was her. Apparently Madonna has adopted a Malawian child. Knowing how much of a diva her daughter Lourdes is I wonder if she's considered the ramifications of expanding her brood. Does anyone else find it strange that Guy hasn't been mentioned in all of this? Not one to criticize (ok, I tried, couldn't type that with a straight face) I can't help but think these children would be better off being sponsored instead of adopted by neurotic celebs with little time for their own biological offspring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32709264-115999818093891820?l=misplaced-space.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/feeds/115999818093891820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32709264&amp;postID=115999818093891820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115999818093891820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115999818093891820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/2006/10/will-you-be-my-mommy.html' title='Will you be my mommy?'/><author><name>MissQuote</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05617038593995153423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/10094555.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32709264.post-115836201743334864</id><published>2006-09-15T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T07:22:37.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Barely There</title><content type='html'>I've sorta been drifting mindlessly through the past few days. Don't know why i'm so detached. People ask me questions and i can't be bothered to reply, good thing i work mostly from home. I also keep forgetting what day of the week it is. I've no idea why i'm so spaced out. Started smoking again. Can't remember which came first though. The smoking or the detachment; am i spaced out because i've started smoking again, or am i smoking again cos i'm detached? Hmmmm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32709264-115836201743334864?l=misplaced-space.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/feeds/115836201743334864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32709264&amp;postID=115836201743334864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115836201743334864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115836201743334864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/2006/09/barely-there.html' title='Barely There'/><author><name>MissQuote</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05617038593995153423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/10094555.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32709264.post-115817135133176974</id><published>2006-09-13T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T07:22:37.581-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I believe...</title><content type='html'>...In the writers mind he is God,with the power to build and destroy at will. There is nothing as intoxicating as fictionalizing a real life enemy and turning him/her into a right twit. I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32709264-115817135133176974?l=misplaced-space.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/feeds/115817135133176974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32709264&amp;postID=115817135133176974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115817135133176974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115817135133176974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-believe.html' title='I believe...'/><author><name>MissQuote</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05617038593995153423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/10094555.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32709264.post-115704845431615105</id><published>2006-08-31T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T07:22:37.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Without Pluto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/Pluto%20and%20Charon%20by%20David%20A%20Hardy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 184px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="226" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/320/Pluto%20and%20Charon%20by%20David%20A%20Hardy.0.jpg" width="272" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a Scorpio and every self respecting Scorpio knows that Pluto's our ruling planet. What's to become of us now that the planet's no more? Ok, it still exists but as a 'dwarf', what's with that? I refuse to have a dwarf planet as my ruler and i suggest all Scorpios band together and demand that Sagittarius share Jupitar with us. I think it's large enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32709264-115704845431615105?l=misplaced-space.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/feeds/115704845431615105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32709264&amp;postID=115704845431615105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115704845431615105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115704845431615105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/2006/08/without-pluto.html' title='Without Pluto'/><author><name>MissQuote</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05617038593995153423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/10094555.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32709264.post-115620878579991582</id><published>2006-08-21T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T07:22:37.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nowhere's better than here.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/eyeopen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="247" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/320/eyeopen.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who was I before I was me&lt;br /&gt;Before I was shaped by society&lt;br /&gt;Where was I before I was here&lt;br /&gt;Before I had skin and teeth and hair...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss being Nowhere. Nowhere's a place that doesn't exist, a place that never was. I know I've been there before, when I was young, before I had 'real' memories. I think of nowhere now and all I see in my mind's eye is a black hole. Nothing. It's how (I believe) I remember my 'babyhood'. Scientists report that our earliest childhood memories come from when we're about three or three and a half, though some individuals swear they have memories from when they were eighteen months. I feel my memories come from a much earlier time. A time when time was still and I was inanimate. When I saw things and didn't know what they were. When life would fade in and out and I didn't have to respond or participate actively in it. There were no responsibilities then. I was under no obligation to be part of society. I could just lie there and exist and that was enough. When I tell my sister this she laughs and says I'm making it up. Like how I swore I remembered the color of my cot (pink) only for my mother to tell me it had been white. Regardless, the nostalgia I feel for that 'made-up' time and place is real. I've recently been exploring my childhood memories. For some reason I see something or smell something that triggers some buried memory and I cry. I don't know why. It's not that I want my childhood back, I'm not MJ, but there are times when I want to reclaim certain childhood feelings and beliefs. Take for instance the first time I was ever affected emotionally by a movie. I must have been about four when I saw '&lt;a href="http://www.nausicaa.net/miyazaki/nausicaa/synopsis/" target="_blank"&gt;Nausicaa of the Valley&lt;/a&gt;'. At the end when the princess died I bawled my eyes out. It was then that I first discovered bad things happen to good people. I have never been affected like that by any movie since. Call it the loss of innocence if you will. Even now I still cry when I watch the end. Not because it makes me sad now, but because I remember how sad it made me all those years ago. To think I will never feel that way again is sad in it's own right, but it's a different kind. In Nowhere you don't feel sad, or anything else. It's a great place to be . The thing is I can't go there, it's like Neverland, not for adults. Once you grow up it becomes unattainable, nothing but a distant memory. I do miss it though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32709264-115620878579991582?l=misplaced-space.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/feeds/115620878579991582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32709264&amp;postID=115620878579991582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115620878579991582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115620878579991582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/2006/08/nowheres-better-than-here.html' title='Nowhere&apos;s better than here.'/><author><name>MissQuote</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05617038593995153423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/10094555.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32709264.post-115556368951342594</id><published>2006-08-14T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T07:22:36.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No. 024</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/348632_2191.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: none; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="174" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/320/348632_2191.1.jpg" width="231" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;If upon a winter’s night&lt;br /&gt;The moon, freeze dried, burns not bright&lt;br /&gt;And the leaves leave the branches light&lt;br /&gt;Will you mourn with head shorn?&lt;br /&gt;With fingers torn from roses' thorns?&lt;br /&gt;Will you grasp at blades of grass?&lt;br /&gt;And leave your mark along the path?&lt;br /&gt;I have not seen flowers spring in spring&lt;br /&gt;Or felt autumn’s breathless wind&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; now as it’s always been&lt;br /&gt;Summer’s bright but life is dim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32709264-115556368951342594?l=misplaced-space.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/feeds/115556368951342594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32709264&amp;postID=115556368951342594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115556368951342594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32709264/posts/default/115556368951342594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misplaced-space.blogspot.com/2006/08/no-024.html' title='No. 024'/><author><name>MissQuote</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05617038593995153423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3326/1590/1600/10094555.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
