<?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-6457404589224322973</id><updated>2011-08-19T04:39:17.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tartan Raspberry</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8844223600788372738</id><published>2010-11-20T15:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T15:12:28.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep it simple</title><content type='html'>A phone that does what a phone should do ... wow, impressive ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My phone is a simple thing. I can make calls, I can text, I can play a wee game. The battery life is not that great but it's fine. I remember the first mobile phone I got after the original "brick". It had a mono screen and could only save a maximum of 10 incoming and outgoing text messages. I loved that phone, it was so dinky! Kept it until it died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see how some of the online features in new phones can be handy but I am at a loss with the way they are promoting movies on phones. I like to watch movies on the big screen. Not so much on 3D - right now that spoils the flow of a movie for me. I am happy with the 7" dvd player for travel. Why would I want to watch something on a teeny tint screen? Now, if they could invent some gizmo that played the movie on the teeny tiny display and also let the viewer see it in huge humungous mode, then mthat might be different :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, on the lines of keeping it simple ... email accounts and passwords ... one day I shall learn :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8844223600788372738?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8844223600788372738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8844223600788372738' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8844223600788372738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8844223600788372738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/11/keep-it-simple.html' title='Keep it simple'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3940531124852992985</id><published>2010-11-20T10:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T10:59:13.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting old...</title><content type='html'>Getting old beats the alternative, we always say in my neck of the woods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I get out of bed feeling like an old lady (after moderate sportive activities), I'm not so sure.&lt;br /&gt;When I find myself not seeing everything black and white anymore, and not judging people who ff'd up, too harshly anymore, I think it's a good thing to grow older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the following has me wondering which way to go: downsizing gadgets...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just bought a run of the mill phone. Nothing fancy, but does what it needs to do. Why? Because my funky cool, does everything you could want, tiny format, touchscreen AND qwerty, phone, just can't seem to keep the battery going. I've just blown through the 2nd battery in the space of 10 months.&lt;br /&gt;So I bought a phone that is supposed to have good battery time. Unless like most smartphones out there.&lt;br /&gt;And the worst part? So far I like it just fine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3940531124852992985?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3940531124852992985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3940531124852992985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3940531124852992985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3940531124852992985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/11/getting-old.html' title='Getting old...'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6544016875794581008</id><published>2010-07-05T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T10:50:02.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's simple joys</title><content type='html'>I'm getting utterly hooked on the most ridiculously simple game on facebook. It entails planting crops. And having farm animals. And that's about it... only about 1 of my (many :p ) braincells required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most fun things in it? Coming up with daft names for the animals. I have a few flamingos. Which are pink. So I named one Pinky. The other is called The Brain. I'm seriously considering calling the third 'And'...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6544016875794581008?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6544016875794581008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6544016875794581008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6544016875794581008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6544016875794581008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/07/lifes-simple-joys.html' title='Life&apos;s simple joys'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-7129225749411847384</id><published>2010-04-23T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T11:27:08.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pre-joy or forefun?</title><content type='html'>One of those hard to translate Dutch words is 'voorpret'. Literally translated I would end up with either pre-joy, or forefun. The dictionary says 'anticipatory pleasure'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, it's what my travel agency's website is trying to instill in me on my travel webpage, with the message "XXX days to go!'.&lt;br /&gt;I think those 'oh aren't we happy' messages should be forbidden for anything that's still over 30 days away. Let alone 173....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-7129225749411847384?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/7129225749411847384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=7129225749411847384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7129225749411847384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7129225749411847384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/04/pre-joy-or-forefun.html' title='Pre-joy or forefun?'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6772853590239128665</id><published>2010-03-22T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T11:10:01.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3 hour phonecalls</title><content type='html'>3 hour phonecalls are cool :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I'm thinking of the ones where you just talk with a friend and laugh and time just flies by so much so that bladder control isn't even an issue, as opposed to the ones where you are constantly being put on hold and get frustrated by the folks on the other end playing telephone hockey with you and it seems like you have lost days of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use technology for good not evil, that's what I say! :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6772853590239128665?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6772853590239128665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6772853590239128665' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6772853590239128665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6772853590239128665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/03/3-hour-phonecalls.html' title='3 hour phonecalls'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-2610907804669057895</id><published>2010-01-31T09:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T09:15:49.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Good company +&lt;br /&gt;Good food +&lt;br /&gt;Good snow +&lt;br /&gt;Good mountain air (=good sleeping)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Frammie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(although skiing with minus 16 degrees Celsius = one darn cold nose...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-2610907804669057895?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/2610907804669057895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=2610907804669057895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2610907804669057895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2610907804669057895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-company-good-food-good-snow-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5148745185433128946</id><published>2010-01-10T15:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T15:18:48.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>random thought - 2010</title><content type='html'>Twenty ten or Two thousand ten or Two thousand &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; ten?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like telling the time, so many different ways to say it ... especially if you are from different countries :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as there's moonlight and music and love and romance and gadgets and batteries and power sources and whatnot, let's face the music and dance :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5148745185433128946?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5148745185433128946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5148745185433128946' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5148745185433128946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5148745185433128946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-thought-2010.html' title='random thought - 2010'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-2890422569136373344</id><published>2010-01-10T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T15:00:46.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A lil fun</title><content type='html'>There once was a gadget with batteries&lt;br /&gt;The owner received lots of flatteries&lt;br /&gt;She would phone, mail or text&lt;br /&gt;all the girls she liked best&lt;br /&gt;And will be busy for the foreseeable Saturdays!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-2890422569136373344?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/2890422569136373344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=2890422569136373344' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2890422569136373344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2890422569136373344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/01/lil-fun.html' title='A lil fun'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3011334489795979028</id><published>2010-01-09T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T15:19:28.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My new love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/S0kO8m13XGI/AAAAAAAAAc4/RGmRszAPfDQ/s1600-h/nokia-n97-mini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 185px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/S0kO8m13XGI/AAAAAAAAAc4/RGmRszAPfDQ/s320/nokia-n97-mini.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424883660525886562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3011334489795979028?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3011334489795979028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3011334489795979028' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3011334489795979028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3011334489795979028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-new-love.html' title='My new love...'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/S0kO8m13XGI/AAAAAAAAAc4/RGmRszAPfDQ/s72-c/nokia-n97-mini.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6924290916549897639</id><published>2009-11-30T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T12:52:19.458-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saint Nicholas</title><content type='html'>Oh that old man, on his white horse&lt;br /&gt;Is running around my country in full force&lt;br /&gt;And where I used to think it just a commercial thing&lt;br /&gt;I am lately getting full in Saint Nick's swing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the niece and nephew cannot get enough of him&lt;br /&gt;And as an auntie I cater to their every whim&lt;br /&gt;So Saint Nicholas songs I've downloaded now&lt;br /&gt;And his presents for them are in my care somehow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Saturday it'll be cookies, chocolate and lots of fun&lt;br /&gt;And I would go on, but the available rhymes in my head have diminished to none.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6924290916549897639?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6924290916549897639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6924290916549897639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6924290916549897639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6924290916549897639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/11/saint-nicholas.html' title='Saint Nicholas'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-2466889315240809633</id><published>2009-10-06T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T12:35:34.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your order is delayed?</title><content type='html'>I just ordered a new gadget (for a change;-) ), only to receive a message from the shop about 2 hours later 'we cannot send it within the timeframe specified, sorry, we'll do it as soon as possible'.&lt;br /&gt;This was yesterday. Today I received a message from the same shop 'your order was just sent to you!'&lt;br /&gt;This is the second time this year something like this happens. I think I'm getting things faster if they are delayed, than when they aren't....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-2466889315240809633?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/2466889315240809633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=2466889315240809633' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2466889315240809633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2466889315240809633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/10/your-order-is-delayed.html' title='Your order is delayed?'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5191495508202054953</id><published>2009-09-04T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T17:40:50.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New phone!</title><content type='html'>the Nokia 3720 classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the bestest when it comes to features, but sturdy and water-resistant. Considering my track record not a bad idea for an in-between / back-up phone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and it does have at least one cool button: press the * for a few secs, and the flashlight goes on... &lt;br /&gt;For those days you have the keys, but cannae find the lock.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5191495508202054953?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5191495508202054953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5191495508202054953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5191495508202054953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5191495508202054953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-phone.html' title='New phone!'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-318620986953100259</id><published>2009-08-25T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T09:46:31.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs you're getting old, part XXVII</title><content type='html'>Being told by your physical therapist to 'sit up straight' and realising you should have listened to your teachers in school...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-318620986953100259?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/318620986953100259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=318620986953100259' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/318620986953100259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/318620986953100259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/08/signs-youre-getting-old-part-xxvii.html' title='Signs you&apos;re getting old, part XXVII'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-964736655129677202</id><published>2009-07-04T05:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T05:25:17.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time passing</title><content type='html'>I find it's usually the small things that make you realize that time is passing and you're growing up, and old(er).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the bonus-card from the supermarket that's suddenly hanging on your key chain.&lt;br /&gt;Or the point in life where you start to worry more about your parents, than they do about you.&lt;br /&gt;I ran into another reminder this week. For 1 or 2 years now, I've begun to keep a  condolence card ready, replacing it with another as soon as I needed to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had to replace it this week again. Goodbye, sweet old neighbour from my youth. Say hi to your wife for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-964736655129677202?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/964736655129677202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=964736655129677202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/964736655129677202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/964736655129677202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/07/time-passing.html' title='Time passing'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6492428464258302084</id><published>2009-06-29T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T07:46:25.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always fun, those helpdesks and customer services…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My phone is broken. Went from near death to almost alive to now completely dead. Happens when you drop it in the toilet, I guess...&lt;br /&gt;Since it happened whilst I was in Italy, I called the travel insurance.&lt;br /&gt;“How did it happen?” “Well, ehm...”&lt;br /&gt;After I got over my initial embarrassment, the conversation went smoothly. The woman on the phone had apparently dropped hers in the toilet as well. Nr. 2 cause for phones drowning. Nr. 1 cause is leaving it in the laundry machine.&lt;br /&gt;At the time I called, it half worked and I told her I waited first, to see if it would start itself again. She said ‘no it’s good that you called, because it will corrode and will probably stop working eventually anyway’.&lt;br /&gt;Two seconds later “I need to know the repair costs”... Huh? Didn’t we just establish it will corrode anyway? Ah well, maybe tech people can do something to stop that. Okay, I’ll go ask in the shop what the repair costs will be.&lt;br /&gt;“And I also need to know how much the phone costs”. Hmm, problem there. I know how much I paid, but that was with a renewal. She needs to know the costs excluding the renewal subsidy. Even though we established the thing is more expensive than the maximum the insurance will pay out anyway. “Ok, I’ll try to find out”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I cannae find the original bill. I keep bills for all kinds of stuff, but the ones that I actually need disappear into thin air. So I went to the t-mobile shop (granted, not the one I bought the phone, but it’s all one big computer system, right? Wrong...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disinterested young salesgirl behind the counter:&lt;br /&gt;‘I can only give you the address of the shop we sent repairs to’.&lt;br /&gt;‘But I don’t need to send it to repair. I just need to know if it can be repaired’.&lt;br /&gt;‘I know, but I can’t say. You have to go the repair shop’.&lt;br /&gt;‘Can you tell me how much the phone costs, then?’&lt;br /&gt;‘No. We don’t know, only the head office knows and they only go look when absolutely necessary’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good fortune with the repair shop, they have a website, maybe I won’t have to travel there during office hours! And yes, they confirm quite quickly via mail that my phone is beyond repair. A later phone call to the insurance company further reveals I don’t need to send the phone for official evaluation to the repair shop, a copy of their e-mail is enough. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less luck with the head office of the phone company. After listening to usual ‘won’t you go to our website, all the information is there, if not, press 2, then 1, then 4 and so forth’ nonsense, I’m put on hold. Good music on the background, if not for the fact that they keep interrupting the choruses with how many people are on the waiting list before me.&lt;br /&gt;Finally I get a person on the other side. Claims to instantly know what I want and that she can help me with that. Oh dear....&lt;br /&gt;And yes, after about 5 minutes, the lady on the other side of the phone finally understands what I want. &lt;em&gt;Not&lt;/em&gt; what my phone bill was. &lt;em&gt;Not&lt;/em&gt; how much I paid extra when I received the phone, but how much the phone costs without the renewal subsidy. “Oh, I don’t know that, you need to go to the shop for that!”.&lt;br /&gt;And thank you for calling, glad we could help, yada yada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I go to the shop where I bought the darn thing (not in the vicinity of course, why did I buy that thing near my parents and not near my own house), I decide to call the insurance company again. Maybe I can explain to them that I know it’s more expensive than the maximum anyway and they won’t need the copy of the bill. Fortunately I have proof of my monthly bills and the actual payment in December 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady nr. 2 from the insurance company. ‘How much did you pay?’.&lt;br /&gt;‘Well, so and so, but the phone costs more than that. I got a renewal subsidy and I can’t renew until December’. ‘How much is the monthly subscription?’ ’39,95’. ‘Would you please hold?’&lt;br /&gt;Of course, what else is there to do on a working Monday. Hé, no music this time!&lt;br /&gt;‘Okay miss, here’s what I can give you: I can pay you 6 months subscription so you can buy off the contract’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it later dawned on me she got the ‘buying off the contract’ wrong (I can renew the contract in December, but the contract runs until April next year, regardless of when I renew), but I’m only getting 10 euros less than what the maximum would be anyway, so I’m letting it slide…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, no phone that I would want costs less than 240 euros. And I’ll still going to have to wait until December before I can renew anyway, otherwise I just know I can kiss the mobile number I've had for the past 10 years goodbye. I guess I need make due with the phone my brother lend me for now.&lt;br /&gt; And I haven’t even mentioned yet that I’ve also lost my mp3-player, presumably somewhere on holiday too. It wasn’t that expensive, I’m not even going to bother...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6492428464258302084?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6492428464258302084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6492428464258302084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6492428464258302084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6492428464258302084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/06/always-fun-those-helpdesks-and-customer.html' title='Always fun, those helpdesks and customer services…'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-7221795387247995473</id><published>2009-06-01T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T08:00:41.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random observation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There’s this older woman in my neighbourhood, who walks around the block, behind a pram, every day. She used to have a doll in the pram, lately I think the doll has been replaced with a shiny new teddy bear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The other day I was cleaning the window-ledges on the outside (yes, even I do housework occasionally… ;-) ) and she walked by. Stopped where I was and grunted what I took to be ‘hello’ to me. Then she pointed at her wrist. I pretty much assumed she meant to show off her watch, so I asked if it was a new one and told her it looked very nice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she went along with her walk around the block, behind her pram with the teddy bear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I used to feel sorry for her. I’m not so sure now. She might be happier than I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-7221795387247995473?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/7221795387247995473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=7221795387247995473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7221795387247995473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7221795387247995473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/06/random-observation.html' title='Random observation'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-15621290677706742</id><published>2009-05-13T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T11:01:50.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can we update old sayings?</title><content type='html'>There's this Dutch saying about birds in May:&lt;br /&gt;'In mei legt iedere vogel een ei': "In May every bird lays an egg".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this saying needs updating. First of all, I'm pretty sure that it isn't true. I don't think male birds will lay an egg. And many birds will lay more than one egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; think applies to every bird, at least all birds in my vicinity, is that they s@#t more in May. But why oh why do they always have to do that on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; car?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-15621290677706742?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/15621290677706742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=15621290677706742' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/15621290677706742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/15621290677706742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/05/can-we-update-old-sayings.html' title='Can we update old sayings?'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8921128520254121605</id><published>2009-04-22T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T12:00:36.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last of the dinosaurs</title><content type='html'>The guy who washes my windows dropped by for payment today. If he doesn't catch me at home, the tally goes up for the next month. Now I knew I was behind months and months (apparently he always drops by when I'm not there).&lt;br /&gt;But today I was.&lt;br /&gt;'I'm late, aren't I?'&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, you have to pay for 6 months".&lt;br /&gt;Me: 'that can't be right, it has to be at least 10, probably more'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out he lost his cards and had to start counting again. I paid him for 10 months because I'm sure I owed him at least that.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I was only the second person of all the people he dropped by for payment, who said anything and offered to pay more.... and he doesn't charge much at all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8921128520254121605?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8921128520254121605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8921128520254121605' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8921128520254121605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8921128520254121605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/04/last-of-dinosaurs.html' title='Last of the dinosaurs'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-4592833972908061994</id><published>2009-04-16T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T05:26:01.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh hells bells...</title><content type='html'>Note to self: don't put your mobile phone in the vicinity of your coffee.&lt;br /&gt;Note to self 2: don't switch it off and on immediately after you've dipped the coffee off your phone. Check first with someone who knows this stuff, if that doesn't shortcircuit the whole thing because it isn't dry yet underneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mwaaaahhhh!!!!!!!!!!! I'm temporarily without mobile phone. Not a good state of mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-4592833972908061994?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/4592833972908061994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=4592833972908061994' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4592833972908061994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4592833972908061994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-hells-bells.html' title='Oh hells bells...'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-9183617290287225887</id><published>2009-04-10T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T19:16:13.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom Teeth</title><content type='html'>What are wisdom teeth for? /:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 1/4 less wisdom and some other fraction of whole in my gum. For a while there it looked like I'd be without 1/2 my wisdom but apparently my nerves wouldn't let go of the other likely candidate, so it stayed put.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't *feel* any less wisdomy ... maybe cos I didn't have much to begin with :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-9183617290287225887?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/9183617290287225887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=9183617290287225887' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/9183617290287225887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/9183617290287225887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/04/wisdom-teeth.html' title='Wisdom Teeth'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-2629711620368222741</id><published>2009-03-17T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T15:54:49.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs you're getting old...</title><content type='html'>... when you don't know why everyone's 'twittering' right now.&lt;br /&gt;Most people's lifes aren't all that exciting, I don't need to know what they're doing all damn day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-2629711620368222741?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/2629711620368222741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=2629711620368222741' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2629711620368222741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2629711620368222741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/03/signs-youre-getting-old.html' title='Signs you&apos;re getting old...'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6597997533966478023</id><published>2009-03-10T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T21:28:11.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Aunt Sidonia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm ... if you say that kinda fast it sounds like "sit on ya" ... kinda icky if she was your aunt ... although if it's by marriage, that could work :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6597997533966478023?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6597997533966478023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6597997533966478023' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6597997533966478023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6597997533966478023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/03/aunt-sidonia-hmm.html' title=''/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8442943525060685353</id><published>2009-02-24T13:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:20:51.648-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aunt Sidonia &amp; I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SaRkgWge-HI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HeJ4JMoMZOE/s1600-h/sidonie.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 190px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SaRkgWge-HI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HeJ4JMoMZOE/s320/sidonie.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306476767909705842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Sidonia is a character from the fabulous comic series ‘Suske &amp;amp; Wiske’.&lt;br /&gt;Now I never thought I had much in common with aunt Sidonia, but apparently I’ve been mistaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of aunt Sidonia’s traits is that she is very thin. So thin she can go completely undetected (barring her long nose), by hiding behind a lamppost.&lt;br /&gt;And apparently I'm just as good in hiding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was working late at the office. Last night we also had a new cleaning guy. Who was told to ‘switch off all the lights once everyone is out of the office’. Now I was sitting behind my desk. I thought in plain sight. Not so, according to the cleaning guy! Switched the light in my room off right in front of me, whilst I was looking at him bewildered. Didn’t even notice my first exclamation of  ‘Oy!’ It took one or two more ‘oy’s before he even bothered to look back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think I look like aunt Sidonia though. Least of all the nose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8442943525060685353?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8442943525060685353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8442943525060685353' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8442943525060685353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8442943525060685353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/02/aunt-sidonia-i.html' title='Aunt Sidonia &amp; I'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SaRkgWge-HI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HeJ4JMoMZOE/s72-c/sidonie.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-1709155226371920984</id><published>2009-02-12T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T15:01:09.942-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Debranding your phone is not to be done lightly</title><content type='html'>I decided to make my T-mobile phone forget it's a T-mobile phone and think it's a regular ole Sony Ericsson.&lt;br /&gt;This is not to be done by the faint hearted: the first time I tried something went wrong midway and the darn thing wouldn't do anything! Me, without a working mobile phone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 minor heart attack later I got it to work, though. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-1709155226371920984?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/1709155226371920984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=1709155226371920984' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1709155226371920984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1709155226371920984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/02/debranding-your-phone-is-not-to-be-done.html' title='Debranding your phone is not to be done lightly'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8643492267942185373</id><published>2009-02-02T09:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T09:19:48.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broke my glasses whilst skiing...</title><content type='html'>... well technically, they fell of the nightstand in the hotelroom, but saying I broke them during skiing sounds soooh much more exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grr. My back up glasses are not as good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8643492267942185373?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8643492267942185373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8643492267942185373' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8643492267942185373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8643492267942185373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/02/broke-my-glasses-whilst-skiing.html' title='Broke my glasses whilst skiing...'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-1211315898267706111</id><published>2009-01-24T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T05:01:51.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tea vs. Coffee</title><content type='html'>How do people survive without coffee? My body won't allow for coffee at the moment, so I'm stuck with tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I don't like tea once in awhile, but all day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-1211315898267706111?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/1211315898267706111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=1211315898267706111' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1211315898267706111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1211315898267706111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/01/tea-vs-coffee.html' title='Tea vs. Coffee'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3974781511688988121</id><published>2009-01-03T10:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T12:25:22.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gadgetlover's New Years Resolutions...</title><content type='html'>1. Work out more:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SV-w8Y2EA5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/krRodjRrZg8/s1600-h/nintendo-wii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SV-w8Y2EA5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/krRodjRrZg8/s320/nintendo-wii.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287139039064097682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3974781511688988121?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3974781511688988121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3974781511688988121' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3974781511688988121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3974781511688988121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2009/01/gadgetlovers-new-years-resolutions.html' title='Gadgetlover&apos;s New Years Resolutions...'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SV-w8Y2EA5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/krRodjRrZg8/s72-c/nintendo-wii.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3578135957981344229</id><published>2008-12-21T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T12:18:13.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes life reminds you that you're not all that butch</title><content type='html'>... like when your boiler starts leaking and your first inclination is to call your dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But dads can only be of so much use, when all you have to say is 'the black thingey is loose from the grey thingey and now it's leaking!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. I eventually figured out what I'm supposed to do, but the sodden black and grey thingeys won't comply with my intentions. Fortunately a little grey tape seems to hold the black and the grey thingey together, but now I have to go and make an appointment with the boiler people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And who has time to stay at home for these things...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3578135957981344229?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3578135957981344229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3578135957981344229' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3578135957981344229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3578135957981344229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/12/sometimes-life-reminds-you-that-youre.html' title='Sometimes life reminds you that you&apos;re not all that butch'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3786069813425689811</id><published>2008-11-16T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:49:18.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Even gadget lovers grow up</title><content type='html'>Gadget lovers tend to come into maturity a little later mentally, than they do legally. But even they get to a point in life, when the latest gadget just isn't as fun and exciting as it used to be.&lt;br /&gt;This maturity can creep up rather suddenly and throw the gadget lover into deep depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Case study: getting a new phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally the gadget lover has her heart set on a new phone about 6 months before it's released. She waits and waits, scowers the internet for information, and when the time comes, she pays far too much money, because she just has to be the first person to get it. After which she mails all her long-suffering friends endless details about the ultimate phone. And utters dismay when those friends only ask whether one can actually call with that phone. The one detail the gadget lover is not remotely interested in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 6 months after she got the phone, a new one will come out. With more pixels. Better screen. Faster GPS. And the gadget lover will start raving about that phone, as if the old one never existed in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until maturity sets in...&lt;br /&gt;The first clue is that the gadget lover renews her subscription after a year with a 'simple back-up phone', because the new ones 'don't have that much extra'.&lt;br /&gt;The second clue is that her current phone is actually starting to show signs of wear (battery depleting faster than usual). An occurrence that's rarely happened before.&lt;br /&gt;The third clue is she'll start looking for a new phone only 2 months before she can renew her subscription.&lt;br /&gt;The fourth clue is finding out the new phones have more mega pixels, or tv-functions, or optical zoom, but not being able to find one that captures her heart completely.&lt;br /&gt;And the final straw: the gadget lover decides she might just get one that does the same as her current one, and starts looking for the cheapest one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3786069813425689811?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3786069813425689811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3786069813425689811' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3786069813425689811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3786069813425689811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/11/even-gadget-lovers-grow-up.html' title='Even gadget lovers grow up'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3087825180691138131</id><published>2008-11-02T09:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T09:21:38.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funky roadsigns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SQ3hYz_ZM2I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/gxOSVbq89ig/s1600-h/afrika1097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SQ3hYz_ZM2I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/gxOSVbq89ig/s320/afrika1097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264111355855188834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SQ3gb5Fy3vI/AAAAAAAAAEw/RkN0tWOCFFo/s1600-h/afrika1267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SQ3gb5Fy3vI/AAAAAAAAAEw/RkN0tWOCFFo/s320/afrika1267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264110309252194034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3087825180691138131?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3087825180691138131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3087825180691138131' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3087825180691138131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3087825180691138131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/11/funky-roadsigns.html' title='Funky roadsigns'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SQ3hYz_ZM2I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/gxOSVbq89ig/s72-c/afrika1097.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-4898476191045411281</id><published>2008-09-14T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T13:59:22.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why couldn't we have had this weather in the summer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SM17FdAN8aI/AAAAAAAAAEM/lPxXZ_4l3qY/s1600-h/beach.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SM17FdAN8aI/AAAAAAAAAEM/lPxXZ_4l3qY/s320/beach.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245984474571600290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-4898476191045411281?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/4898476191045411281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=4898476191045411281' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4898476191045411281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4898476191045411281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/09/why-couldnt-we-have-had-this-weather-in.html' title='Why couldn&apos;t we have had this weather in the summer?'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SM17FdAN8aI/AAAAAAAAAEM/lPxXZ_4l3qY/s72-c/beach.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3512752810588855662</id><published>2008-09-04T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T12:06:51.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A survey continues ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Bitey - we'll be adding questions as we go. Thank you for your patience ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone else, thank you for your votes, we will be keeping track of your responses :) Interesting split depending on location by the way ... hmmmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Meeting the in-laws (continued)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Your girlfriend's parents have asked you to attend an important family event (with no overnight stay&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;). Do you tell her:&lt;br /&gt;a) you don't want to go because if they really wanted you to attend as a couple they would at least have offered a bed for the night&lt;br /&gt;b) you don't want to go because you have a phobia about family gatherings and you're just not ready for that step yet&lt;br /&gt;c) you'll go if your girlfriend wants to go, and you're quite happy to come back to your own bed&lt;br /&gt;d) you already decided what to wear and marked the date in your calendar&lt;br /&gt;e) you already decided what to wear, have googled-mapped all the necessary directions and who does your girlfriend think designed the invitations for your family?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;Hypothetically, assume that your girlfriend's parents live closer to the event than you do. Let's say, you have to drive about 20 miles to get home, while they might live local to the event or only have to drive a maximum of 5 miles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3512752810588855662?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3512752810588855662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3512752810588855662' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3512752810588855662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3512752810588855662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/09/survey-continues.html' title='A survey continues ...'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5027382775386716251</id><published>2008-08-19T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T10:49:38.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A survey begins ...</title><content type='html'>You know the drill, keep count of the number of a) b) c) d) and e) answers you choose and at some point we will psychoanalyse you! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Meeting the in-laws&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. So, you have been seeing each other a while, your relationship is ready for the next level, and she wants to meet your parents. Do you tell her:&lt;br /&gt;a) it's impossible because you are an orphan, and ask her when she stopped paying attention to anything you said&lt;br /&gt;b) it's impossible because you wish you were an orphan, and ask her when she started being so insensitive of your feelings&lt;br /&gt;c) you will set up a meeting sometime soon&lt;br /&gt;d) you already set up a meeting for this weekend&lt;br /&gt;e) you already set up a meeting and who does your girlfriend think these people sitting at the dinner table with you are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You have met her parents once and you didn't get along so well. Do you tell her:&lt;br /&gt;a) you never want to see them again, first impressions mean a lot to you&lt;br /&gt;b) you never want to see them again, but you are willing to try it again for the sake of your relationship&lt;br /&gt;c) you'll make an effort to see them again sometime soon&lt;br /&gt;d) you already arranged to meet with them again and this time you are ready to like them or change their ways, god damnit!&lt;br /&gt;e) you already arranged to meet them and who does your girlfriend think these people sitting in the therapist's room with you are?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5027382775386716251?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5027382775386716251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5027382775386716251' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5027382775386716251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5027382775386716251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/08/survey-begins.html' title='A survey begins ...'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-1378542531599231690</id><published>2008-07-19T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T04:07:41.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The gadget car</title><content type='html'>One could of course say I got the Toyota Prius because I care about the environment. And I do, really.&lt;br /&gt;One could say that I got it because the Dutch government is giving me a nice tax-break on the car. And one is not a tax-consultant for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;One could even say I got it because it's a good car, with cruise control, automated climate control and what not, for a fair price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But those who know the profile of a gadget lover know the real reason... buttons! that do cool stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still figuring some of it out (this is one of those cars you'll actually feel inclined to read the manual), but here's a few things I noticed most in this first week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- of course, the 'power' button. Forget putting your key in the ignition. Forget getting your keys out of your pocket. Just press the power button!&lt;br /&gt;- the full map navigation system, integrated in the 7" touch screen in the middle of my dashboard, lets you put Points Of Interest on the map. Guess what fast-food restaurants look like: a Big Mac!&lt;br /&gt;- I got the Tech edition of the car: it can park itself... haven't tried that yet, but the moment I put the car in reverse, the screen shows me what's behind the car (built in camera ;-), that relays the image to the touch screen at the dashboard ) and with little lines (red = watch out, yellow = the way you'll drive if you don't touch the steer, green = good to go), one is pretty safe to drive backwards.&lt;br /&gt;- LOVE the fact that I don't have a stick-shift any more... even though I never had a problem with shifting into gear, this is very lazy driving... and the little stick thingey that turns it into reverse and drive etc., isn't next to you on the right, but ergonomically (and cool looking) placed on the dashboard.&lt;br /&gt;- the light above the mirrors above the front seats turns on automatically once you slide the mirror open.&lt;br /&gt;- I cleaned the front windshield about 8 times before I figured out how to turn the rear windshield wiper on. The stick that operates it, has THAT many interval options, I was turning on the wrong side...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I haven't even gotten to trying out the cruise control yet...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-1378542531599231690?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/1378542531599231690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=1378542531599231690' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1378542531599231690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1378542531599231690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/07/gadget-car.html' title='The gadget car'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6322540741902417290</id><published>2008-07-07T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T15:39:35.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to get the gadget lover outdoors</title><content type='html'>A gadget lover is not by nature inclined to venture outdoors a lot. Not just because she's most happy playing with her toys whilst sitting on her couch, but also for practical reasons, such as:&lt;br /&gt;- where to find a electronic socket to recharge all her gadgets?&lt;br /&gt;- sunlight is not always the best light, when looking at the crystal clear little TFT-screen she has on her mp3player/phone or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you prefer to go outdoors however, and would prefer to do that whilst spending quality time with her, and/or you would like your gadget lover in somewhat of a good health, it may be necessary to lure her outside.&lt;br /&gt;The best way to do that, of course, is with gadgets. Luckily for you, there are several shops that cater to this need. A small sampling of what bribery you may use:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gadget socks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gadget socks? Really? Yes, really really. For instance, there are:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;a href="http://www.bridgedale.com/"&gt;special walking socks&lt;/a&gt; for those hikes of 100 ft and over;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/2006/apr/19/theairlineindustry.medicineandhealth"&gt;flight socks&lt;/a&gt; for sitting in a plane, off to exciting places (not to mention the gadget lover will get to test her gadgets on flight, like those noise cancellation ear-buds, she would otherwise only use when trying not to hear you telling her to do the dishes);&lt;br /&gt;- socks that stop the mosquitoes biting;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;a href="http://www.skimarket.co.uk/images/sock_sk1_child.jpg"&gt;socks &lt;/a&gt;that eleviate the pressure points of those nasty, but effective, skiing boots.&lt;br /&gt;All these socks are specifically for one purpose, inherently cool (as stated by our resident gadget lover), and best of all: utterly pointless to wear inside.&lt;br /&gt;Your gadget lover will be forced to follow you outside, just so she can point out her neat socks to you. Ad nauseam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charging aids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, here is where your gadget lover gets really excited. &lt;a href="http://i.treehugger.com/files/th_images/portable_solar_panel.jpg"&gt;Solar-charging devices&lt;/a&gt;! Extra &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nickel_metal_hydride"&gt;long-lasting batteries&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;a href="http://www.ces.philips.com/press_release_power4life.html"&gt;Batteries you can charge&lt;/a&gt; so they in turn can charge your phone!&lt;br /&gt;(We know, an ordinary person would just turn their phone off, but not the gadget lover. She must try the GPS function. That can really drain a battery, you know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Handpresso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chances are that your gadget lover is hooked on coffee. She'll have spent way too much time sitting behind computers, game-consoles and what not. This cannot be done without copious amounts of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;If you get her outdoors, in fact, that far outdoors that there isn't even a Starbucks nearby, she'll get antsy. For this we have the ultimate gadget:&lt;br /&gt;the portable coffee maker. Yes, there is such a thing as instant coffee. Yes, in a decaffeinated tight spot, that would suit most people, but not your gadget lover. She will have bought the ultimate coffee gadget, the ‘&lt;a href="http://www.handpresso.com"&gt;Handpresso&lt;/a&gt;!’. An added bonus to this gadget: she’ll need to use her muscle(s) to pump up the gadget to the acquired pressure-level. Another good exercise…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with all these gadgets, add-ons and what not, there's just one more gadget you'll need to get your girl: a really good daypack...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6322540741902417290?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6322540741902417290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6322540741902417290' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6322540741902417290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6322540741902417290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-to-get-gadget-lover-outdoors.html' title='How to get the gadget lover outdoors'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6453927878368155639</id><published>2008-06-09T13:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T13:43:11.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuff said</title><content type='html'>Alison Moyet, great singer. Vince Clarke and Alison Moyet, great pop music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6453927878368155639?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6453927878368155639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6453927878368155639' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6453927878368155639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6453927878368155639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/06/nuff-said.html' title='Nuff said'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-2271475310994724423</id><published>2008-05-26T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T08:11:33.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The intricacies of U-hauling - Energizer Bunny</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Where to move&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obvious answer: a nice cosy burrow somewhere!&lt;br /&gt;With all that energy, you need to live somewhere the Energizer Bunny has space - otherwise you will both be bouncing off the walls, and not in a good way! A sports room or at least a driveway fit for a basketball hoop would be cool.&lt;br /&gt;The bunny may already have a suitable place but you will need to consider location too. Being the active lil bunny that she is, her place is probably a hop, skip and a jump away from the countryside, which is all good unless it adds a bus, train and a hellish commute to your work.&lt;br /&gt;If you decide to go for a new place, then you could save some money with a "fixer-upper" - you know she'll love all the painting and DIY jobs around the place. Wherever you pick, make sure it feels like home, especially if you are planning some baby bunnies along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;II. What to bring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obvious answer: batteries!&lt;br /&gt;If the Energizer Bunny is moving in with you, it's likely she will bring sports equipment ... a basketball, a football, a bicycle, a surf board, walking shoes, sex toys (just checking you were paying attention), the usual kind of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;If you are moving in with her, you probably want to bring those vitamins we mentioned before and maybe a wee engine to attach to your bicycle when you go out together.&lt;br /&gt;You may find that between you there are too many belongings but this is why we suggested the sports room earlier. Garage space may also be an option. Or a garage sale if you are being brutal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;III. How to go about the move&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obvious answer: Get some bunny else to do it!&lt;br /&gt;The Energizer Bunny is the type of woman who will have the entire move completed before you know it had even started. That includes if she is moving into your place.&lt;br /&gt;If you are moving, make sure your boxes are all packed and labelled and marked fragile where necessary. In particular, make sure you don't pack any "special" items in with bulk standard stuff ... in her eagerness to get things unpacked and set up, the Energizer Bunny might just overlook such a thing and you might find it a wee tad embarrassing explaining the odd "ornament" to your parents as they visit you to see how the move is going.&lt;br /&gt;Overall it should be a fairly painless exercise, with plenty of energy left for you both to celebrate your new-found living together status in (bunny) style!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-2271475310994724423?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/2271475310994724423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=2271475310994724423' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2271475310994724423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2271475310994724423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/05/intricacies-of-u-hauling-energizer.html' title='The intricacies of U-hauling - Energizer Bunny'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-2887868021981497315</id><published>2008-05-12T11:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T11:58:19.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything's connected...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiTLk1Az4I/AAAAAAAAAC0/7T7_u_JrHKM/s1600-h/12_types_01.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiTLk1Az4I/AAAAAAAAAC0/7T7_u_JrHKM/s320/12_types_01.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567596873109378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiTH01Az3I/AAAAAAAAACs/OHuV29E6NXw/s1600-h/12_types_02.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiTH01Az3I/AAAAAAAAACs/OHuV29E6NXw/s320/12_types_02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567532448599922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiTD01Az2I/AAAAAAAAACk/LzYEDoym75M/s1600-h/12_types_03.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiTD01Az2I/AAAAAAAAACk/LzYEDoym75M/s320/12_types_03.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567463729123170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiS-01Az1I/AAAAAAAAACc/DNks_Ii7uOM/s1600-h/12_types_04.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiS-01Az1I/AAAAAAAAACc/DNks_Ii7uOM/s320/12_types_04.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567377829777234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiS6E1Az0I/AAAAAAAAACU/jW9RZbCRWcI/s1600-h/12_types_05.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiS6E1Az0I/AAAAAAAAACU/jW9RZbCRWcI/s320/12_types_05.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567296225398594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiS1E1AzzI/AAAAAAAAACM/-er1hO8IJvY/s1600-h/12_types_06.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiS1E1AzzI/AAAAAAAAACM/-er1hO8IJvY/s320/12_types_06.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567210326052658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiSxU1AzyI/AAAAAAAAACE/urLjpClgrOY/s1600-h/12_types_07.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiSxU1AzyI/AAAAAAAAACE/urLjpClgrOY/s320/12_types_07.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567145901543202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiSuU1AzxI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2Elwm0YcBvk/s1600-h/12_types_08.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiSuU1AzxI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2Elwm0YcBvk/s320/12_types_08.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567094361935634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiSuU1AzxI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2Elwm0YcBvk/s1600-h/12_types_08.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiSuU1AzxI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2Elwm0YcBvk/s320/12_types_08.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199567094361935634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-2887868021981497315?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/2887868021981497315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=2887868021981497315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2887868021981497315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/2887868021981497315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/05/everythings-connected.html' title='Everything&apos;s connected...'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SCiTLk1Az4I/AAAAAAAAAC0/7T7_u_JrHKM/s72-c/12_types_01.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-7802644994723091850</id><published>2008-05-09T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T09:39:51.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another random thought</title><content type='html'>Why is it considered weird for someone (okay, me) to not want to mix milk from different bottles (or other container of your choice) in a bowl of cereal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what I like and I'm sticking with it! ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-7802644994723091850?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/7802644994723091850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=7802644994723091850' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7802644994723091850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7802644994723091850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-random-thought.html' title='Another random thought'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-4043385277412016452</id><published>2008-04-13T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T07:20:52.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thought</title><content type='html'>How come you can have an observation but you can't observate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-4043385277412016452?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/4043385277412016452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=4043385277412016452' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4043385277412016452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4043385277412016452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/04/random-thought.html' title='Random thought'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-4649364145915284073</id><published>2008-04-06T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:00:49.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comments roll call</title><content type='html'>First of all, thanks for dropping by :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhonda ... thanks again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bitey ... no worries, we have your contact details and can ship the soundtrack CD out to you so that you can learn the words, sing the songs, wear dresses home-made from flowery curtains, and finally claim your official gadget lover membership card!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devil's Refugee ... yes, we have webcams strategically placed around the globe, which are monitored regularly. We know where you live ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frammie ... remember, we are never "scared" to post anything ... but some things are best left to the imagination. Hehehehehehehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diane ... what did we miss? This blog is not super-moderated you know /:) We'll take sleepy comments too, we're not picky!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-4649364145915284073?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/4649364145915284073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=4649364145915284073' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4649364145915284073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4649364145915284073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/04/comments-roll-call.html' title='Comments roll call'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8757728255805281254</id><published>2008-04-06T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:46:51.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carbon footprints of a gadget lover</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/R_kYbnS1XqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zu39OkhUZHQ/s1600-h/soliosolarcharger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/R_kYbnS1XqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zu39OkhUZHQ/s320/soliosolarcharger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186203308577349282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8757728255805281254?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8757728255805281254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8757728255805281254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8757728255805281254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8757728255805281254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/04/global-footprints-of-gadget-lover.html' title='Carbon footprints of a gadget lover'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/R_kYbnS1XqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/zu39OkhUZHQ/s72-c/soliosolarcharger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5501640023608534606</id><published>2008-04-05T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:46:14.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The intricacies of U-hauling - Gadget lover</title><content type='html'>I. Where to move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/3-gadget-lover.html"&gt;Gadget lovers&lt;/a&gt; like new things. New things with buttons and lights and dinky functions. So, first up, what's your UDF (u-haul dink factor)?&lt;br /&gt;You cannot automatically assume that the gadget lover will have a place that fits the bill - the latest gadgets do not come cheap and there is no guarantee that they will have their own personal batcave set-up. But wouldn't that be cool?! Think of the role play fun that could be had! But we digress ...&lt;br /&gt;If either of your current abodes is an old property (as in European old, not American old), you will have to check the electrics. The number of electrical outlets must be carefully checked and the potential ability to add more should be properly determined.&lt;br /&gt;Never underestimate the need to charge up mobile phones, laptops, digital cameras, and PDAs while boiling the kettle, watching a DVD on the (HD, Tivo equipped large-screen, widescreen, flatscreen, you screen, I screen, we screen) TV by lamplight while your other half plays Guitar Hero in the other room, letting the answer machine screen any incoming telephone calls and recharging a load of batteries, etc., etc., etc. Proximity to power stations may also be something you should add to your checklist.&lt;br /&gt;Storage is a big consideration. You will need at least three cupboards:&lt;br /&gt;a) old stuff&lt;br /&gt;b) current stuff&lt;br /&gt;c) free space for the latest drool-worthy toy&lt;br /&gt;If it comes down to hanging up your clothes versus storing umpteen gadget toys, you'll probably find that you don't miss the coat hangers so much after a wee while.&lt;br /&gt;On the whole, as long as the place is reasonably secure and has enough power sockets to run a small community on a distant island getaway, things should work out quite well. If it's a close call between your place or hers, if your fitted kitchen has an electric can opener or anything remotely gadgety, you may find you have a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;II. What to bring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if the gadget lover moves, they will simply bring all their gadgets, a few clothes and a toothbrush. Of course, the toothbrush might fall into the category of gadgets so they might surprise you with something else. Might even be a pleasant surprise ... but again, we digress ...&lt;br /&gt;If the non-gadget lover moves, in the interest of saving the planet, we recommend bringing every item that has even a slight chance of off-setting your combined global carbon footprint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;III. How to go about the move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all the gadgets in the world, there is still not one that will move all your stuff when you want it done. There's just something plain wrong with that. In the spirit of u-hauling, the move should happen quickly and without thinking too much about how it will all work out. Try to do it with the minimum amount of breaks, otherwise the gadget lover will find a toy and be no use to anyone for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;Gadget play is to be used only as an incentive as a reward at the END of the move. Also, in order to avoid scary moments, let the gadget lover carry / move all their gadgets. We don't want anyone to get hurt and it's best for all concerned. You do not want to have first hand knowledge of where some of these new cameras and phones can end up if things go awry.&lt;br /&gt;So pick a day. Get all the boxes ready (labelled with the latest high-tech labelling technology, with barcodes and tracking database and coffee maker thingummyjiggy), prise the current gadget out of her hands (do it with love), and get it done as quickly as possible before the withdrawal symptoms kick in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5501640023608534606?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5501640023608534606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5501640023608534606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5501640023608534606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5501640023608534606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/04/intricacies-of-u-hauling-gadget-lover.html' title='The intricacies of U-hauling - Gadget lover'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-1940005747876778662</id><published>2008-04-03T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T14:06:17.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Size over substance?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/R_VGuHS1XpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1D_27iE_Lps/s1600-h/DSC_0093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/R_VGuHS1XpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1D_27iE_Lps/s320/DSC_0093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185128304032964242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-1940005747876778662?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/1940005747876778662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=1940005747876778662' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1940005747876778662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1940005747876778662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/04/size-over-substance.html' title='Size over substance?'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/R_VGuHS1XpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/1D_27iE_Lps/s72-c/DSC_0093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-1241075654198930556</id><published>2008-03-26T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T12:39:09.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The intricacies of U-hauling, Pt. 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So, you’ve met the woman of your dreams, survived the mandatory waiting period of two weeks after the first kiss, and now you’re sure: you want to live together for the rest of your life&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6457404589224322973#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1"&gt;[1]&lt;/a&gt;. And since you want that rest of your life to start as soon as possible, the next step is to hire the U-haul and move in together.&lt;br /&gt;But it is important to tread cautiously here, since many long-lasting relationships have actually never made it to long-lasting, due to the fact that no satisfactory agreement could be reached on the following three points:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. where to move&lt;br /&gt;II. what to bring&lt;br /&gt;III. how to go about the move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for you, this mine field can be crossed successfully, based on the type of woman you’re with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/1-xena-wannabe.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Xena - wannabe&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I. Where to move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Xena-wannabe, or Xe for short (the authors of this blog suffer from lazy typing), will naturally be inclined to assume you’ll be moving in with her, even if her house is a dump. She’s top banana after all, the Warrior, the Princess, she with many skills, yada yada yada.&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for you, Xe is also susceptible to reasoning. Talk to her about what house suits both your needs best, has the most room, etc. etc. and together you’ll be able to make the best decision.&lt;br /&gt;One word to the wise: her ability to listen to your reasoning is directly dependent on your clothes. Meaning the less you wear, the faster she’ll agree with you.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t use this trick to often though. Never having any clothes on will make you susceptible to colds, which will make you less susceptible to sex, which will make Xe cranky. And that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, let alone yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;II. What to bring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;If Xe is moving in with you, this part is easy, since all that she owns can easily fit into a few saddle-bags and/or the back of her pick-up truck. Even if her stuff is ugly (unlikely, since Xe has taste – she’s chosen you after all), let her bring it along and store it in a closet somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;One thing to treasure: her toyki.., erh, toolkit! Not only does she have top-notch stuff, she actually knows how to use it…&lt;br /&gt;If you’re moving in with Xe, just bring along everything you were planning to bring along anyway. Anything is too much for Xe, who considers furniture a possibility instead of a necessity. Xe will be sulking for a while, but we’re sure you know adequate measures to make her forget (may we suggest a hot-tub scene?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;III.  How to go about the move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;If Xe is moving in with you, she’ll just pack up her stuff in the truck and show up on your door. If you’re moving in with her, you must heed the stereotype and rent a truck. She’ll be driving of course.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately for you, Xe’s firm beliefs in girl-power extend to her girlfriends as well, so you’ll have to do your fair share. Here’s where you can test your abilities to work as a team. Let her do the heavy lifting (ogling her rippling muscles appreciatively will help keep her motivated) and you can take care of the unpacking and (re)arranging. And, after all the hard work is done, may we again suggest a hot-tub scene?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/2-pussy-loving-cat-hater.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2: Pussy-loving cat-hater&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I.  Where to move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Seriously? You want to move in with a pussy-loving cat hater? Well if you’re sure… the only option is to move in with her. Your apartment will have cat-hair, either from your own cat, or from friends with cats. No amount of cleaning can get rid of those last hairs for at least 6 months, and the relationship may not last that long anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;II.  What to bring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Well, not your cat obviously. Poor you, poor cat. Again, are you sure you want to move in?&lt;br /&gt;If you are, only go forward if you have a good home for kitty. She doesn’t deserve to suffer from your bad choices. Also leave behind all fleece clothing, since they will bear traces of the cat.&lt;br /&gt;Store anything else she may not want in the house, since we suspect she’s evil. If you bring unwanted stuff into &lt;em&gt;her &lt;/em&gt;house (you’ll not be able to call it '&lt;em&gt;our&lt;/em&gt; house' for at least the first 2 years) , chances are that your stuff will meet an untimely demise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;III.  How to go about the move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Use a professional company! That way, if anything goes wrong, you can blame the movers.&lt;br /&gt;Also, don’t unpack stuff you’re not planning to use soon. As stated above, we suspect the relationship may not last long anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Unless you are a pussy-loving cat-hater as well. In that case, please tell us where you live, so we can wire the place. We need ideas for a future blog (how to manipulate yourself into being the top-banana). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6457404589224322973#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Which, as we all know, could be as little as 4 years, since lesbian years count the same as dog years, but aim high anyway. You come prepared after all, having read this blog, so for all you know, you could be the exception that confirms the rule!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-1241075654198930556?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/1241075654198930556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=1241075654198930556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1241075654198930556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1241075654198930556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/intricacies-of-u-hauling-pt-1.html' title='The intricacies of U-hauling, Pt. 1'/><author><name>Frammie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06528950805949105023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1LE_Rtw4BDY/SfI9El1_aQI/AAAAAAAAAIs/A9B1ZdnPytQ/S220/106.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5088982987882058632</id><published>2008-03-23T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T04:32:46.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What type are you?</title><content type='html'>My girlfriend asked me what type of woman I thought she was. I didn't have an answer. Well,I did have an answer but the type I had in mind hasn't been listed yet hehehehe ... but I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In much the same way as reading all of the horoscopes, some folks will recognise different aspects of different types in themselves, while others will see nothing even remotely relevant to their lives (even where they think they might have general associations with a named type).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To that, we at Tartan Raspberry say: vive la difference!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We also say that these types are based purely on our own thoughts and observations, with a hefty dash of humour and a big dollop of not taking ourselves too seriously.&lt;/span&gt; :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5088982987882058632?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5088982987882058632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5088982987882058632' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5088982987882058632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5088982987882058632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-type-are-you.html' title='What type are you?'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8654655068072566398</id><published>2008-03-23T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T04:07:37.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worth a mouse click</title><content type='html'>Thanks for the nice comment Rhonda :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have added &lt;a href="http://bookemdanno-r.blogspot.com/"&gt;Book 'em Danno&lt;/a&gt; to our "Worth a mouse click" section ... see over there on the right hand side, under the list of posts, etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8654655068072566398?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8654655068072566398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8654655068072566398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8654655068072566398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8654655068072566398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/worth-mouse-click.html' title='Worth a mouse click'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8559383646207821499</id><published>2008-03-22T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:36:20.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Browser issues</title><content type='html'>Best viewed in Firefox. I think that pretty much sums it up :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self: do not copy and paste from word processing software and expect supposedly compatible browser software to tidy itself up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apologies for the presence of unexpected tags for some folks. Apologies too for the bad html in general!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Easter! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8559383646207821499?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8559383646207821499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8559383646207821499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8559383646207821499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8559383646207821499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/browser-issues.html' title='Browser issues'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-4322050415276151651</id><published>2008-03-21T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T22:52:50.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hints and Tips in Lesbian Dating 101</title><content type='html'>If there was a course on lesbian dating we reckon the syllabus might look a little like this ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Biology&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are a lesbian, it's always a good start to get the biology aspect right. You’re a woman, she's a woman, class dismissed to have fun in the playground.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of course, she may have been a he or been with a he previously, which might complicate things a little - mostly by bringing in those pesky social sciences - but we don't take any points away for late comers and we always encourage extra credits for effort.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Chemistry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we don't encourage getting over excited with the Bunsen burners or shaking up weird and wonderful liquids in conical flasks, we must emphasise the need for good chemistry.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If there is no chemistry, you are in a friendship. Please go the social sciences class down the hall for more details.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If there is chemistry then you will feel your tummy tingle. You will feel a lump in your throat when you want to speak. You will want to tear off each other's clothes and set off all sorts of reactions.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;However, we do ask that you do this somewhere other than this classroom. All that kinetic energy gets too close to the physics syllabus.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Physics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Energy. Lots of it. Changing from one form of energy to another. Several times in one date if you are lucky. And you thought physics was boring, huh?&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maths&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of your complicated maths though. We strongly believe in keeping things simple, so let's just look at some nice plain arithmetic. 1 + 1 = 2. Got that?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;1 + 1 does not equal 1. You are not 2 halves of a whole. You are a whole being with a whole being's brains and body and personality. And hopefully your dating partner will also have all of those things.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;1 + 1 does not equal more than 2. At least not if you want a relationship. You are a whole being with whole being needs and wants and desires. You deserve to have the whole attention of your date - and she deserves yours. At least for the duration of the date.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversation is good. English is fairly global one way or another. Those whose first language is English are lazy but it also helps other folks enhance their skills to have a second language in their repertoire.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be prepared to use language in a variety of ways.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Comedy - a shared sense of humour is a wonderful thing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Drama - you are lesbians, you know it's going to be in the mix.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Communication is a necessity. This is the first of many, many, many English classes.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Other Languages&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See English. But read it aloud with a sexy accent.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is music everywhere. Although hopefully not blaring out at 2am when all you want to do is go to sleep. We don't take kindly to someone's bassline vibrating the hell out of our foundations, thank you very much.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When dating, it's important to pay attention to what kind of music your dating partner likes. By the end of the first date ask yourself if you could share a CD shelf with her. Would you have doubles? Would you have to make room for some new titles? Would you rather listen to dogs howl rather than hear anymore?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lesbians do road trips - consider this music class carefully.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Art&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few dates, check out each other's living spaces. What kind of photographs and pictures are on display? You can tell a lot by just looking around.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Write a 1000 word essay on your own space first - what does it tell you about yourself?&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Home Economics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least one of you has to be able to cook.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sewing and knitting and laundry and everything else can somehow be figured out but food is one of life's necessities and no, you cannot live on take-out menu offerings forever.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Also, if you ever want to have a family, it's good to get some grounding in the basics. Also consider Biology class.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Woodwork and Metalwork&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strictly speaking you can get away without this class. But it can be handy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And if you fail at Chemistry class you can take this class and be that ever friendly, ever popular best friend who can fix anything up with just one little Philips screwdriver!&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Accounting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesbians are not generally known for having loads of money. Typically women earn less than men and with precious little tax breaks in places where there is no gay marriage nor civil union legislation, well, there tends to be a lot of money going out but not so much coming in.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, learn to budget and make that money go further! Maybe the next date will be at that fancy restaurant where you want to check out their take-out options.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Computing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of this year we are just going to call this class what it really is: Online dating!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Play nice!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-4322050415276151651?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/4322050415276151651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=4322050415276151651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4322050415276151651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4322050415276151651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/hits-and-tips-in-lesbian-dating-101.html' title='Hints and Tips in Lesbian Dating 101'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-7654153029090157795</id><published>2008-03-21T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T22:55:27.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>12: Willow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smart, cute, tomboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with Willow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Willow loves to solve problems and is a regular bookworm - a modern day invertebrate of your choice for computers, and all things gadgetry and magical that she can get her hands on ... which could lead us off into a whole other tangent but, for now at least, we shall stick to the main plot.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, in terms of living with a woman like Willow, most importantly, you have to be smart. Not necessarily super smart but you need to be able to hold your own in a conversation or debate. She's not a 'smart-snob' - she can quite happily be friends with people who have character strengths other than high intelligence but if you want to be with her for any great length of time then you need to be on a similar wavelength. No matter how hot the sex is (and it will be hot).&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This type of woman is sensitive and thoughtful but can be strong and ruthless. While mostly easy-going, beware the dark side - it's not often on display but it's there. She is passionate and can be vulnerable. Sometimes she doesn't even understand herself nevermind expect someone else to rise to that particular challenge. She does not like to give up and will often be frustrated at being so close and yet so far to solutions that she knows are so nearly tangible. When living together, you must try to learn when to give her space and when to give her support - she will need both (sometimes at the same time) and it's in your own best interest to try and figure it out to some extent. You will never get it right 100% of the time, don't even bother trying; the laws of probability and physics and the female psych are against you on this and you just have to accept that.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you upset her - and it will happen - apologise only when you know you are in the wrong. Do not make hollow apologies in an attempt to make her feel better - even if it worked for five minutes, she would feel patronised later. When you are both ready, talk (remember what we said earlier about being smart and holding a conversation?) You both have valid feelings and if this is going to work, you need to communicate. Then, and only then, can you proceed to the hot, make up sex!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If she upsets you - and it will happen - you should be able to expect the same kind of response as you give: honest and open to discussion at the right time. Not talking for a little while is okay - we all need time to nurse our wounds - but it's not good for you, her or the relationship to stay in the huff for too long. Snap out of it already!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She has a great sense of humour. Sometimes her innocence makes her a little slow to catch on but sometimes she is not as innocent as she would have you believe (I'm sure you have seen that glint in her eye from time to time). If you do not have a sense of humour, leave now. Do not pass Go. Do not collect any amount of money. Just leave. A healthy sense of humour is always a good thing to have, regardless of the type of woman you are living with, but your humour will help you through those times when you have no idea why she is mad at you, or when she is helping you fix something and it is all going horribly wrong, or when she simply introduces you to one of her favourite comedy movies ... laughter can bring you closer, make the unimportant stuff insignificant, and make you feel good together.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The Willow woman doesn't really see herself as being attractive but she is. Her not being aware of it probably makes her even more so. She has an inner beauty and it surrounds her whole being. She is not comfortable with too many compliments but you should be sure to give her some - she certainly deserves them and it lets her know she is appreciated. False compliments are wasted - she will see right through them. Just be nice, say out loud the little things that come into your head when you look at her, about how she looks and how you enjoy spending time with her. Little things in general will go over better - big flashy displays of affection will make her uncomfortable; keep it intimate, share little secrets with one another, keep it special.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-7654153029090157795?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/7654153029090157795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=7654153029090157795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7654153029090157795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7654153029090157795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/12-willow.html' title='12: Willow'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-4293927142492938559</id><published>2008-03-21T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T22:57:34.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>11: The older woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confident, independent, older&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with an older woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to dating, most folks have a rough idea of the age range for potential partners. Some people are very specific (say, 5 years either way) while others are more open (say, from "being legal" to "having a pulse"). When we talk about "the older woman" we are thinking of a woman who is at least 10 years older than you.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are different sub-types of older women. For example, there are women who have been with other women and those who haven't. No assumptions should be made about either one. Practice does not always make perfect - sometimes it just makes something that started out mediocre into something not worth repeating ... ever ... not even if you are drunk or you are in that part of your cycle when your hormones kick your sex drive into major overload. But it has to be said that experience can certainly be well (indeed&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, sometimes &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; well)&lt;/span&gt; worth experiencing. On the flip side (as in flip me like a pancake and cover me in maple syrup), new and original may be a very pleasant surprise.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes age really is just a number. Some older women have amazing bodies. Some older women are worldly wise. Some older women are fitter and healthier than you will ever be! Some older women are growing old gracefully with an ever-present twinkle in their eye. Some older women are content to grow old gracefully and take it easy. There are all sorts of older women (just as there are all sorts of women of any age), and sometimes a younger woman meets and older woman and music plays, lights sparkle and they fall in love.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Older women will often take more time to do things. They have done all their rushing around and they know that simple joys should be embraced and appreciated (and if your name happens to be Joy, then aren't you the lucky one?) If you are the type who finds yourself getting stressed and wiped out with your daily routine then living with an older woman might do you the world of good.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Living with an older woman can be a lot of fun. We particularly like the sexual peak aspect. An older woman can bring a wealth of experience and confidence and knowledge into your world. She can share things with you that someone of the same age, or younger, could never do. Having said that, sharing things from the past can stir up a strange kind of jealousy. If you feel it, you probably tell yourself off for being unreasonable but it's natural to be a little envious of the people who have been close to the woman you love. Acknowledge it and deal with it. Do not make her feel bad for having a life before she met you. The same general principle applies the other way too. Although in the older woman's case she might feel jealous pangs more for the people you might encounter now and in the future than those from your past. Whatever sets off these little pangs of jealousy, a little trust and communication goes a long way.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Part of an older woman's history is that she may have children. She might even have children who are older than you. The only thing you need to remember where children are involved is that, as a mother, the older woman has an unconditional love for them and regardless of how old they are, they will always have priority status in her life. If you like children, this kind of relationship has much to offer. If you don't like children, better hope those kids are already finished with college. Of course, if your older woman has some money, the children may think you are a gold digger - it's funny how money can bring out people's nasty streak - but if that happens, try to stay above it and don't let the little buggers drive a wedge between you and their mother.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is no rulebook to say what the best age match is. In the end it comes down to the two women involved. The way you both think. The things you both like to do. The paths you want to take in life. Older women may be more likely to want to settle down but that's not always the case - it might even be the other way around. You may be with a woman who has seen it, done it, and wants to do it again! The physical imitations that older age tends to bring may become an issue somewhere down the line but even that isn't guaranteed. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and see where life takes you.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Even in this day and age, it is still more acceptable for an older man to be in a relationship with a younger woman (or man for that matter) so living with an older woman can certainly raise a few eyebrows. Yes, even more than those raised when you first moved in with your 'roomate'. You might not be bothered about nosey neighbours but you might be surprised by the reaction of some friends and family members. All you can do is be true to yourself and to your relationship. If you are happy and you feel that you are compatible and you wake up every morning and your first thought is the older woman lying in bed beside you, then the people who matter will see that and they will be there for both of you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-4293927142492938559?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/4293927142492938559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=4293927142492938559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4293927142492938559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/4293927142492938559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/11-older-woman.html' title='11: The older woman'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5996059607689433541</id><published>2008-03-21T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T22:59:26.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10: Gutter mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creative, playful, personable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with a gutter mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gutter mind has an extraordinary ability to associate pretty much anything with something sexual. It should be noted though that gutter minds are not trying to be offensive, vulgar or smutty; their intent is much more playful and flirtatious. There is usually an emphasis on &lt;i&gt;implied&lt;/i&gt; rather than explicit references, so while the gutter mind might initiate the sexual link, it is often the imagination of the individual(s) listening that will determine just how shocking (or not) a statement may be.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Gutter minds tend to be easy going folks who generally don't take things too seriously. They have a healthy interest in sex, although you may find that they may be less experienced than you first think - it is not uncommon to find that gutter minds are more talk than action. However, that's not to say that they wouldn't be interested in finding out about some of that action with you.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Living with a gutter mind will inevitably lead to situations where you find yourself rolling your eyes and asking them to be serious for once, or the occasional exclamation of "I can't believe you just said that!?!" Every relationship has its boundaries and if that means that at least one day each month must be gutter-free or that no, it is not appropriate for her to share gutter banter with your 83 year-old grandmother, then those terms and conditions need to be discussed and agreed (which shouldn't be a problem because gutter minds like to have fun, not upset others).&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, basically there is just one simple rule that must be followed: if you live with a gutter mind you must have a sense of humour. If you don't then it will simply be a matter of time before you don't like something she says or she thinks you are taking something the wrong way and the incompatibility police will be marking up the scene with their bright yellow tape and chalk to show the positions of the bodies.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; However, with boundaries set and sense of humour intact, living with a gutter mind can be a lot of fun. Historically women haven't been encouraged to talk about sex, certainly not to joke about it, and definitely not in public - a gutter mind can turn a bad thing into a good thing in a simple, subtle, funny, sexy way. Laughter is good for the soul and giggling about a silly gutter remark on a packed commuter train can work wonders. Similarly a little verbal foreplay at a boring party can set things up for a much more exciting evening once you get home.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Most gutter minds are very physically expressive. A raised eyebrow here, a small upturn of the corner of her mouth there, a little hand gesture. When you live with a gutter mind, you can tune into her body language. You will know when she is teasing, you will know when she is being serious, you will know how much she loves you - just by the way she moves. She is also likely to take a keen interest in your body - it's all good!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A word of caution: the more relaxed a gutter mind is, the more likely the possibility that she might get carried away and stretch the limits of the gutter humour - especially in company. On the rare occasion that things might overstep the mark, a swift kick to the shin under the table is generally considered acceptable as a last resort. However, a long, slow kiss on the lips under the table, against the wall, and in the car on the way home is generally considered to be much more effective all round!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5996059607689433541?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5996059607689433541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5996059607689433541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5996059607689433541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5996059607689433541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/10-gutter-mind.html' title='10: Gutter mind'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-1361778645197980978</id><published>2008-03-21T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:01:21.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9: Drama Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self-centred, manipulative, high maintenance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with a drama queen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that girl, watch that scene, digging the drama queen. Oops, sorry, got a little carried away there. Where were we? Ah yes ...&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lights, camera, action! Living with a drama queen is like living in a soap opera, where the remote control does not have an "off" button, and the drama queen always gets top billing and the most screen time.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Spending time with a drama queen can be entertaining - they often have quick wit and a sharp tongue - but living with this kind of woman may not always be easy. Always remember: drama queens thrive on attention and they do not always care how they get it. Drama queens see things differently to mere mortals. To every action, drama queens must have an over-the-top, exaggerated reaction.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just as the planets circle the sun, everything is expected to revolve around the drama queen's world. In order to stop you from getting dizzy going round and round, she will break the monotony with elaborate costumes, grand performances and strange tales from her past that often fit into the category of WAY too much information. Sometimes there will be laughter, sometimes there will be tears, sometimes there will be shit-stirring, sometimes there will be dramatic (and short-lived) silences. Living with a drama queen could in no way be considered boring or dull but it does require a good measure of both energy and patience. Energy is required to keep up with whatever game is played on any given day. Patience is required because you will always be in a supporting role. It should be noted that it is highly unlikely that two drama queens would want to live together - and the laws of physics certainly do not recommend having that much dramatic energy in an enclosed space for any longer than it takes to have highly dramatic sex.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Drama queens are accustomed to getting things their own way - after all, what other way could there possibly be? If that way happens to fit in with your own plans, then hang on tight and enjoy the ride. If, on the other hand, you find yourself wanting different things, well, that's when things can get a tad difficult. The concept is not a million miles away from how things work with bullies - if you are a friend of the bully, then you may see them as being funny or "harmless" but if you are the prey of the bully, then you really see their ugly side. A drama queen done wrong is truly not a pretty sight.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You may have guessed that the authors do not have a lot of time for drama queens. In case you hadn't reached that conclusion by your own volition, let us confirm that we don't. Being with someone should be a pleasure, a joy, something that makes you smile just thinking about it, something that you look forward to and makes your heart happier and the load you carry lighter. Being with a drama queen simply requires way more effort than should ever be required, or demanded. A little drama can work. We live in a TV society, with cult and iconic film moments providing our terms of reference; it can be fun. However, just as overacting can be a turn off, too much drama is unattractive. Think about it like this: a little role playing in the bedroom is good, making a mountain out of a mole hill every second of every minute of every day of every week of every month of every year means it's time to walk out of the theatre and see what else is showing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-1361778645197980978?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/1361778645197980978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=1361778645197980978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1361778645197980978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1361778645197980978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/9-drama-queen.html' title='9: Drama Queen'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5569994642137235889</id><published>2008-03-21T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:04:21.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>8: Stalker</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persistent, always around, loner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with a Stalker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This entry is a little different to all the other "Living with ..." entries because if you actually shared habitation space with a stalker, it's debateable whether she is still a stalker or not. So, we'll use this chapter to look at the kind of thing you might expect from living your life with a stalker who does not actually live &lt;i&gt;with&lt;/i&gt; you.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The stalker / stalkee relationship can start in various ways but two of the most common are infatuation with a stranger and a spurned love. All they want to do is spend time with you. At least that's how they see it. You, on the other hand, might think it a tad excessive for someone to follow you around, telling people made up stories about the two of you, breaking into your apartment and going through your old photograph albums to get to know more about you, and the like. Clearly there needs to be boundaries.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;First of all you need to determine the type of stalker you have - there's an interesting range from imaginary to psychotic obsessive. If you have an imaginary stalker then perhaps now would be a good time to stop reading this and start reading a more suitable self-help / self-confidence book. If you have a psychotic obsessive stalker then perhaps you should enrol in the FBI's witness relocation program. If you have a stalker whose type falls somewhere in the middle then there is still hope.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some people are simply unaware of personal space issues and lack some basic people skills. They may be shy and really like you and want to get to know you and we're sure at some point it seemed like a good idea to rummage through your mail in the early hours of the morning (hey, at least it wasn't your garbage!) Sometimes if you confront this type of stalker, they will be so happy to speak with you that they will no longer feel the need to stalk you ever again. Of course, it is also possible (and indeed more common) for the stalker to deny that they are stalking you and things may get a little ugly. Please be advised to check for twitchy eye movements and hidden axes before you confront anyone. Don't say we didn't warn you.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some people stalk others as a kind of experiment on human behaviour. They will often keep a (b)log or journal of their stalking exploits, which is often mirrored by the one you update daily as recommended by the nice lady police officer. We do not advise confronting this type of stalker; instead we suggest you listen to whatever the nice lady police officer tells you. Oh, and if it should come up in conversation, you might ask if she is single and would like to go out for dinner sometime, maybe even give you a ride in the patrol car, flashing lights and siren optional.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some people think it is amusing to make others feel uncomfortable, as if they are always being watched. It's a power trip. It's not about having any real interest in the stalkee, but having some control over someone else. These people are cowards and try to make up for the fact that they have so little control over their own life by trying to influence someone else's. Don't waste your time or energy confronting these stalkers.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some stalkers can be co-incidental. In this world of chaos and chance, there may be times when you keep running into the same person at the same places at the same times. Chances are they think you are stalking them! If they are cute, why not strike up a conversation? It could be your destiny! If they are not cute, start changing your schedule.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The ex-girlfriend stalker is fairly common but thankfully this is usually a temporary arrangement. She is either heartbroken that you broke up and can't let go just yet or she is displaying the very type of possessive, jealous and irrational behaviour that made you dump her ass in the first place. Most of the time you will know her well and have an idea about how to deal with the situation. If you only shared a one-night stand (with or without really great sex, but preferably "with", of course), then things might be a little harder to gauge.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Living with a stalker in your life can be very draining. Even if you happen to enjoy the attention for a little while, it's likely that it will wear off. It's like having your own personal paparazzi but beware they won't always stop at photographs. Stalkers also have a tendency of scaring off any nice ladies the stalkee may be interested in, so the sooner the situation can be resolved the better.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As for the stalkers, we would suggest that you find another hobby, another activity that puts your mind, body and soul to better use. Just remember to check the packaging because batteries are not always included.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5569994642137235889?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5569994642137235889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5569994642137235889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5569994642137235889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5569994642137235889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/8-stalker.html' title='8: Stalker'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-8181830932627818101</id><published>2008-03-21T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:06:04.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7: Motherly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caring, often bakes pies, inquisitive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with the Motherly type&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, the perfect mate for those of us who avoid cooking at all costs. The Motherly type has award-winning nurturing skills. Often she is drawn to a slightly helpless type, the kind you might find mumbling in the supermarket about not being able to find the salt. The Motherly woman will not only help you find the salt, she'll offer to cook for you. Before you know it, your sock-drawer is organised, and your laundry smells like flowers. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All that practical stuff aside, living with a Motherly type does have its disadvantages. For one thing, you'll never be able to find anything ever again, because she will replace your carefree 'just throw it down' system with an alien system that makes much more sense - to her, anyway. But, more importantly, the need of the Motherly type to take care of you is not always just rooted in simply being a caring person. No, the Motherly type comes with her own demons. As a result, she may start demanding your attention, not realising that she might be suffocating you ... emotionally, that is, we're not thinking pillows or anything like that.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, what do you when it gets too much? Run for the hills? No. The Motherly type is a lovely mate and you must gently let her know that you need some room. If she doesn't get your subtle hints, give her a weekend away in a spa. Tell her (truthfully) that she deserves it, for all the hard work she does for everyone. You'd join her of course, but that thing with your job, etc. etc. And when she's away, run amok in the house! You'll enjoy your space, and she'll enjoy the cleaning up after the fact, because she knows she's needed (and she has that odd gene that actually seems to like housework).&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sex with the motherly type is warm and gentle. She's at her best in a Jacuzzi, with scented candles everywhere. If you want her to get wild, there's really only one way: get her drunk.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-8181830932627818101?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/8181830932627818101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=8181830932627818101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8181830932627818101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/8181830932627818101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/7-motherly.html' title='7: Motherly'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-1337632920959046927</id><published>2008-03-21T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:19:50.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>6: Well, if you don't know, I can't tell you - also known as 'WTF'?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusing, exasperating, illogical&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Living with Well, if you don't know, I can't tell you - also known as 'WTF'?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a fact of nature that women will sometimes behave a little irrationally - check your calendars if you don't believe us. There can be various reasons for this temporary insanity but as long as it doesn't become permanent insanity, then chances are that if you time things well, your complete and utter thoughtlessness will go unnoticed by the crazy lady who shares your living space, and neither party will have to apologise for things they had no real control over in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This general statement does NOT include the small minority of women who may simply be complete bitches. In this instance we are not talking about truly abusive women - those women who are worse than the permanently crazy women because they know what they are doing and they get a kick out of it. As far as living with those women is concerned, our tip is to kick them out and say good riddance.    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You may then question our earlier statement that you can't live without women. Well, in some rare circumstances, the laws of probability do cater for that scenario. However, let's not forget that circumstances have a major impact in all of our lives. Circumstance, timing, history, choices, fate, chance, luck, whatever - it all mixes in together and helps makes us who we are and where we are in our lives, as well as who we are with. Even the complete bitch can turn herself around and finally put her own anger and fears behind her, so that she can be a better person tomorrow. But our advice still stands - being abused by the woman you live with is not an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, let's get back to the non-abusive women. The unexpected rollercoaster rides with all those sanity loop-the-loops are usually set off by unpredictable hormones. Although sometimes your 'WTF' woman may simply have had a shitty day and feels hyper sensitive and needs to feel safe and loved and important to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of course, the reason will not always be immediately apparent to you. Indeed, if you could make out even the semblance of a reason you would not feel like you had been knocked on the head by a runaway rollercoaster buggy, causing considerable damage to your temporal lobe, because every word you hear sounds like it is in a completely foreign and unintelligible language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, picture the scene: she is mad at you but you don't know why. There has been some talking and some 'louder talking' back and forth. So, in an act of desperation&lt;a style="" href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, you ask what the problem is. She looks at you as if &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt; are now the one speaking in a foreign language, and snaps: "Well, if you don't know, I can't tell you!" Almost instinctively, your silent response is: "WTF?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As much as the statement: "Well, if you don't know, I can't tell you!" doesn't make sense, there is also an aspect that does - quite literally, if you can't see what has made her so upset then she can't tell you right now because she is too upset to talk about it. Part of her is pissed that you can't see what's bothering her but more than anything else, she's just upset. Normally when she is upset she can come to you for a snuggle and you help make it alright but she is pissed at you so she has to be upset alone, which makes her even more pissed at you. By this point you will normally feel as though the whole rollercoaster train has collided with your head because 5 minutes ago you were simply watching television, with not a care in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; You are not a mind reader - not even if you happen to be in the 'psychic trade' and get paid for that kind of thing. You see, we are a tad sceptical about such things, and hey, even if you were to be an unusually gifted individual who really could read minds then you wouldn't need to bother with this chapter anyway. Reading people's minds might be fun for a while but think of all the things you would find out that you never wanted to know - it's too icky to contemplate further. Ick, ick, ick. So, back to our point: you cannot read her mind. All you have to go on are any possible signs that might have been out there and what she tells you. As it's not always wise to make assumptions, it would be nice if the latter were the more informative of the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Good communication is vital. "Well, if you don't know, I can't tell you!" doesn't really fit within the boundary of good communication but it's a start. As confusing and exasperating as it may be, you are both aware that &lt;i&gt;something&lt;/i&gt; is not right. When things calm down (and please, do not add stupidity to the mix by not waiting for things to settle a little bit), you can talk, with both sides having their say. This is the part when you both get to say how you feel - it's not about nagging or pointing fingers or blaming - keep it simple. When you start to understand each other more, you will both find ways to recognise particular signs, and will be more likely (though, try as you might, this will not always be guaranteed) to figure out ways of talking things through without a certain phrase being uttered. You may also find that make up sex has a whole new dimension too - who knows, fun phrases like "Well, if you don't know, I can't &lt;i&gt;show&lt;/i&gt; you!" may find their way into the conversation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In some instances, there may be more serious issues at the root of the illogical phrases and arguments. If this is the case, then you may need to look at how compatible you are as a couple - things like how much you are prepared to compromise, how much interest you take in each other, and how much personal space you are prepared to allow for. Always bear in mind that living with someone isn't about changing them - you either accept them for who they are (the good and the bad), or you move on to a different amusement park ride with a solo ticket for the front seats.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;a class="msocomanchor" id="_anchor_1" onmouseover="msoCommentShow('_anchor_1','_com_1')" onmouseout="msoCommentHide('_com_1')" href="#_msocom_1" language="JavaScript" name="_msoanchor_1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;div style=""&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="1" width="33%"&gt;  &lt;div style="" id="ftn1"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoFootnoteText"&gt;&lt;a style="" href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is clearly an act of desperation, at a time when your brain is not fully-functional, because otherwise you would not repeat this act again in the future ... c'est la vie.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-1337632920959046927?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/1337632920959046927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=1337632920959046927' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1337632920959046927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/1337632920959046927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/6-well-if-you-dont-know-i-cant-tell-you.html' title='6: Well, if you don&apos;t know, I can&apos;t tell you - also known as &apos;WTF&apos;?'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-7645769539247378577</id><published>2008-03-21T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:21:44.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5: Closet case</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self-conscious, eager to please, private.          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Living with a closet case&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, we should start by saying that there are different sub-types of closet case. The sub-types range from women so far inside the closet that they haven't even come out to themselves yet (even though they regularly shop at IKEA and dress like Ellen), to women who are in the closet because they live and / or work in a place where it is dangerous to even mention words such as "lesbian". For the purposes of this guide, we will go with a sub-type somewhere in the middle - somewhere in between the flannel shirts and the Sunday suit, if you will.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The closet case is a very private person by nature. She is (self-) conscious of the expectations placed upon her by her family, her work colleagues, and society as a whole. She thinks of others much more than she thinks of herself. She is the type of woman who may well have a heart attack before she is 50 because she worries too much about everything, and would be so much better off if she just let loose a little (not that we are promoting loose women, you understand, at least not in this section).&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When a closet case ventures out into the land of relationships, like it or not, the clock starts ticking as to when her cover will be blown. Although really, if you stopped for a moment to think about it, the people you really care about, the ones who really care about you have already seen through that cover anyway - some might not have figured it all out just yet but they wouldn't be surprised if it came up in conversation.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, what's it like living with a closet case? Well, that's depends on you. If you are a fellow closet case then as long as one of you can cook and the other one is an expert in telephone dialling (speed dial features get a bonus), then you can share many a cosy night in, with good food and various forms of in-house entertainment. Not everybody likes the idea of sex in public places anyway!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;However, if you on the other hand, &lt;i&gt;are&lt;/i&gt; out of the closet, things could be a little trickier. This is where the closet case really feels the pressure - for example, she doesn't want to hurt her folks by coming out but she doesn't want to hurt you by calling you her 'roommate' all the time. Again, all this worrying is silly - when you are with someone you look at them differently, you act differently, there are signs. Big signs. Sure, you can control your actions to a point but there is a whole bunch of physical stuff that gets triggered automatically and you can't do a damn thing to stop it - next time you feel a blush coming on, try to stop it and you'll see what we mean. Basically people are not stupid. Okay, &lt;i&gt;some&lt;/i&gt; people are stupid but they really are the minority. People may be content to play along with the closet situation - either because they think that is what &lt;i&gt;the closetee&lt;/i&gt; wants, or because they can't handle it - but a fair amount of the time people will already know, and they will be okay with it.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Until the closet case feels ready to come out, compromises must be made. This could mean running around the house like mad women making sure you get all the lesbian books and DVDs out of sight before her mother arrives (after just calling you to say she was in the area and wanted to say "hi"). Should this happen, please do not forget to check the DVD player - we won't go into details at this juncture, suffice to say it wasn't pretty and you have been warned. This kind of behaviour is okay for a while - there's even an element of humour to it, and you can laugh about it afterwards as you snuggle up together - but over time the novelty will wear off.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Again, it depends on what type of person you are. If you are touchy-feely and physically expressive, then you may find it hard confining your feelings ... and your hands. It can also be hard being kept out of so many things that are important to your partner. Of course, it's not easy for the closet case either, so you'll have to see what you can agree on.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Perhaps she could promise to invite you along to at least one family gathering every year as a start. It wouldn't have to be a "big event", just something casual, preferably something where there are no sharp objects to hand, just in case the closet case was right to have kept things quiet. Of course, after going along to one of these events you might be happy never to encounter her family ever again so that would be one problem solved right there! On the other hand, if things go well, it's one small step for the closet case but a giant leap towards dancing in the streets at the next Gay Pride Parade.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;In turn, perhaps you could promise to try to be patient and more understanding - you'll know your own limits, so be honest. You might even find that being more secretive about your relationship is a turn on - almost like living a fantasy, or a mysterious affair.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The longer you live with someone, the more you will inevitably seek from each other, and the harder any such compromises will be. You live with someone because you love them, because you want them, and because you need them. The closet case loves you, wants you and needs you - she just hasn't been able to love herself enough to realise that her own needs and expectations are just as worthy and important as those of everyone else. That's something you have to show her. Get to it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-7645769539247378577?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/7645769539247378577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=7645769539247378577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7645769539247378577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/7645769539247378577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/5-closet-case.html' title='5: Closet case'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5031312833739617310</id><published>2008-03-21T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:23:13.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4: Energizer Bunny</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enthusiastic, energetic, can be shallow.          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Living with an Energizer Bunny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this type of woman needs little explaining, as most of us will know someone with just too darn much energy. She was the girl in the back of your classroom at high school, who suggested: "let’s make our own costumes for the Christmas play!" or who always wanted to play basketball. Well, &lt;i style=""&gt;play&lt;/i&gt; basketball… run back and forth with the ball, was more like it, without bothering with the general tactics of the game.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; This girl is fun to live with, but also extremely tiresome. She’ll drag you to parties and be the belle of that ball, dancing with everyone around. The first 3 hours you’ll love it. The next 3 hours you’ll hang your head on the bar, next to the poor slob who can’t take her liquor and has keeled over after the first beer.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She’ll take you into the woods on weekends, so you can enjoy the scenery. Of course you’ll never ever get to see wildlife, since she’s making too much noise jumping up and down, running back and forth over the track telling you to hurry. But one good thing about energizer bunnies… they have so much energy to waste, that they’re usually in great shape from all the movement. So even though there are no deer or raindrops on roses to be seen, you can enjoy your bouncing energizer bunny. And all things that bounce on her. Or remain nice and firm. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh and the sex… you’ll love it! But you need to be in good shape. Take your vitamins, drink plenty of water and try to get some decent sleep when you can. You should be able to do these things when she heads on off for activities that need not involve you. That way she’ll be somewhat toned down, and you’ll be rested and ready. That will be the only way to survive the marathons she’ll put you through, without having of a heart attack. But that said, even if you did have a major coronary, you would still have a big smile on your face…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The difficulty with living with an energizer bunny is twofold. Firstly there’s a practical problem, unless you’re an energizer bunny yourself. She just has too much energy for you to keep up. So don’t even try. Living with an energizer bunny is the ultimate test in how trusting you can be, as you’ll need to let her out and have her do things by herself, or with the rest of her bury / colony / circle (take your pick) of energizer bunny buddies. Make up excuses if you have to, if she wants to take you along, and all you want to do is sit on your couch and watch CSI (Vegas or NY preferably). Being busy at work is often a good excuse, since you’ll probably be the bread-winner in the family. Not that your bunny isn’t a hard worker, but a 9-5 career woman she is not. She is prone to switch jobs frequently and will always choose the one that will sound ‘the most fun’.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Also, try to channel her energy into good things. That wall in your bedroom that needs painting? Just give her the paint, help her move the furniture, and then make coffee while she dashes through the room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The second difficulty in living with an energizer bunny, involves trying to learn about her inner self. Most times they haven’t even discovered it themselves. An energizer bunny is not much for self-contemplation, since that would involve standing still for any amount of time. So don’t expect long and deep discussions about anything, she’ll just not have the patience for it. But even so, do try to get her to talk about herself (remember the walks in the weekends? Just ask a question when she bounces by, and tell her to have the answer next time she comes bouncing back). You’ll do her a favour, because there may be beauty inside, that she’s never seen herself. Or dark demons, that she’s running – or rather bouncing – away from, that you can help to chase away. Maybe that way, she’ll finally find some rest and you can watch an entire CSI episode together ... followed by some shared bouncing activities!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Chances are, with the right fit, the energiser bunny can help make your life better, with her enthusiasm and shiny, happy go lucky, good nature. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And we all know what they say about bunnies and sex…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5031312833739617310?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5031312833739617310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5031312833739617310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5031312833739617310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5031312833739617310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/4-energizer-bunny.html' title='4: Energizer Bunny'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5436680065676863596</id><published>2008-03-21T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:25:42.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3: Gadget lover</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intelligent, quiet, loves gadgets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with gadget lover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gadget lover is a complex creature - amongst other things this woman is sensitive, inquisitive, has delusions of being butch, will cry at sad scenes in a movie, will cry at happy scenes in a movie, knows all of the words to The Sound of Music soundtrack, and their idea of a good read is an electronics catalogue.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The phrase "it's the little things that mean so much" suits the gadget lover well because most likely it means that something else has been invented that is capable of performing a million and one functions (we're not sure if they all include Tetris by default these days, but you can pretty much bet on a camera facility and an mp3 player as standard) AND it will fit snuggly into one of the pockets in her cargo pants (which she insists are deep red but the camera function on the latest gadget makes it &lt;i&gt;look &lt;/i&gt;as though they are pink). Of course, the fact that only a few of those million and one functions will ever be used is insignificant because it is a gadget, therefore it is cool. The fact that it is obsolete before it even hits the store (of the online variety in most truly gadget lover cases) is insignificant because it is a gadget, therefore it is cool. The fact that you may never use a mobile phone to call anyone is insignificant because it is a gadget, therefore you know the drill. The accessories come in all shapes, sizes and colours and it will take several month's salary to buy the complete collection (an insurance company's dream) but if you step back and look at the way the gadget lover's eyes light up when they see a new toy ... um, sorry, we are informed that 'toy' is not deemed appropriate ... but as we aim to be open and honest, we'll call it as we see it, so anyway, when they see a new toy, the overwhelming happiness shines through.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is one golden rule - do not buy a gadget for a gadget lover. They may smile and say thank you and tell you that they love it but rest assured you will have bought the wrong model, with the wrong memory, the wrong adapter, the wrong regional setting, the wrong resolution, the wrong colour, or the wrong combination of any of the vast variations on offer. This is not necessarily a bad thing - it means you never have to spend lots of money on high-tech, I-see-the-pretty-picture-but the-written-specifications-mean-nothing-to-me, lots of teeny tiny buttons, with bleepy noises contraptions. No, you can buy the gadget lover a 4-pack of AA batteries and they will love you because you have just boosted their power source for another few days! If you really want to impress her, get Nickel Cadmium (NiCd) or Nickel Metal Hydride (NiMH) rechargeable batteries - don't worry about the recharger unit, she'll already have one ... possibly two ... possibly even solar powered ... self-assembled using a special gadget toolkit, with a gadget screwdriver that is also a pen and a phone and a camera and an mp3 player.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;However, be warned: living with a gadget lover can sometimes feel like you are living with some strange (often nocturnal) creature, who is more interested in speaking to you via text message or chatting online, than sitting with you in the same room and holding a conversation (nevermind your hand or your body). Research is unclear as to whether two gadget lovers living together ever actually cross physical paths but if they do, we're sure that they would be probably be quite inventive with all sorts of toys. A mixed relationship might be more likely to involve outdoor activities, and would help the gadget lover get a little fresh air, more colour in their cheeks, and a little exercise for the rest of the body other than simply the fingers (but we acknowledge that it's no bad thing keeping the digits fit and healthy!)&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The gadget thing is commonly associated with masculine or butch tendencies but there is no guarantee that this will be the case. Indeed, studies&lt;a style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;amp;postID=5436680065676863596#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; have shown that gadget-loving women often have a soft, sensitive, we wouldn't say femme but certainly a feminine side.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Gadget lovers are loyal and trust-worthy women - they are too busy looking up new techno-doo-hickeys to notice other women.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Never ever EVER touch a gadget lover's latest gadget without permission. For the love of god do not press any buttons unsupervised - although, it can be fun to jokingly say "oh, so that's what a total system reset does", we advise a minimum of 10 feet separation from the gadget lover when you say this so that you have some time to quickly show them that their precious device is unharmed before their instinct to harm YOU is enacted. In this respect, they would probably make good parents but you may need to keep your eye on them to make sure that they don't get distracted by a gadget when the baby is developing their adventurous side by climbing up the bookcase.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be prepared to listen about what gadgets can do. Okay, be prepared to &lt;i&gt;look&lt;/i&gt; as though you are listening - living with anyone involves compromise and we're sure you have stuff that's boring as hell too so as long as there is an agreed balance all should be okay. Acknowledge that there will be nights when they will do their own thing, and there will be other nights when you can snuggle up and watch The Sound of Music and sing your hearts out in harmony (on the super dooper HDTV - flatscreen plasma surround-sound blah blah blah ... all together now: raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens ....&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=""&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="1" width="33%"&gt;   &lt;div style="" id="ftn1"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoFootnoteText"&gt;&lt;a style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;amp;postID=5436680065676863596#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; These studies were performed on a limited group of 1 but the writers have extrapolated accordingly to prove their point.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5436680065676863596?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5436680065676863596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5436680065676863596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5436680065676863596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5436680065676863596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/3-gadget-lover.html' title='3: Gadget lover'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6752486733232862500</id><published>2008-03-21T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T12:02:44.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2: Pussy-loving cat-hater</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pussy-loving, cat hater, evil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Living with pussy-loving cat hater&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pussy loving cat-hater is evil. Okay, perhaps evil is too harsh a word ... and yet perhaps not. Think about it, what card-carrying lesbian does not like cats? Sure, they don't have to own a cat but not to like them at all? Something odd there, and it questions the whole inclusion of the type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There may be some exceptions to the rule though. Say, if a wild, rabid, freaky deaky cat attacked you when you were 8 years old and you end up having to take medication every day of your life to calm your nerves and you still have nightmares but the therapist says that you are doing very well and taking really big steps now. But even then, it's kinda borderline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may well be thinking that the hatred may stem from a really bad allergy. Well, to that we simply say: get your ass down to the pharmacy for some appropriate drugs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to be too judgemental ... and yet perhaps why not? ... approach with caution, and only live with this kind of woman if the sex is really mind-blowing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6752486733232862500?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6752486733232862500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6752486733232862500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6752486733232862500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6752486733232862500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/2-pussy-loving-cat-hater.html' title='2: Pussy-loving cat-hater'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-5229428931899366256</id><published>2008-03-21T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:27:37.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1: Xena-wannabe</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Common characteristics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tall, dark, adventurous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Living with Xena-wannabe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xena-wannabe loves to kick ass. She has a thirst for adventure and the confidence to go with it. She also has a hunger for an inner peace but is less confident she will ever find that. As hard as it may be to believe that there can possibly be less drama than that experienced in some lesbian circles, reality tends to be somewhat less dramatic than the Xena legend. However, it is still likely that Xena-wannabe has experienced a few hard times, and has since developed an instinctual desire to stand up for herself and to help the underdog succeed ... leather outfit optional.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;However, the focus of this segment about living with a Xena-wannabe is not about living with a woman who likes to play dress up in leather outfits. Except perhaps on special occasions, but again, we digress!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Xena-wannabe woman needs to be with someone she can take care of but not your average damsel in distress. To be with this kind of woman, you have to be a little feisty if you are to interest her at all, but the relationship is more complementary than anything else. She is physical; you are cerebral. She is dark; you are most likely light. She generally holds back her feelings; you are more open. She is harder; you are softer. You get the idea.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Xena-wannabe has different sides. She might have 'butch' moments. She might have 'femme' moments. She is a complex woman, likely to have some ghosts in her closets, trying to be stronger than she has been in the past, and embracing the future as much as possible, staying just out of reach of those ghosts.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It's quite likely that she has been hurt in the past. Deeply. She has also hurt other people. Deeply. For her, being with you probably took some courage - after all, to care for someone can make one vulnerable and exposed. She may try to play coy but her heart is usually on display to some extent to those she allows near. While she will be able to control her feelings most of the time, she has moments of weakness. Intensely passionate and at times jealous, you will find that you sometimes have to take pains to re-assure her that all is well. If she feels you have betrayed her, she may lash out without warning - but almost immediately regret it. While this will not happen often, you should be prepared for the sting if it does.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She is worldly-wise and will often surprise you with stories of the things she has done (and sometimes surprising stories of &lt;i&gt;who&lt;/i&gt; she has done!). Life will never be dull with her - be prepared to pack in as much adventure as modern day life can afford on a budget. She will make sure you have everything you need and hope for little - except your happiness - in return.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You may find that she is sometimes withdrawn and moody. Scratch that, sometimes all women are withdrawn and moody - except for those women who have never had a hint of a hormonal imbalance or cramps and can't possibly understand why the rest of us have any cause for complaint. To them we say: the hormones and cramps are real and karma will come a-visiting in good time missy!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As we were saying, the Xena-wannabe may sometimes be withdrawn and moody for no obvious reason. She may talk about it, she may not. She will generally strive towards an outward display of strength so don't take it personally if she tries to shoulder things alone. Her responsibilities sometimes weigh heavily but over time you can remind her that she is not alone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-5229428931899366256?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/5229428931899366256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=5229428931899366256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5229428931899366256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/5229428931899366256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/1-xena-wannabe.html' title='1: Xena-wannabe'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-3681182667555747315</id><published>2008-03-21T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:30:13.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Types</title><content type='html'>Living with any woman will have its ups and downs - living with yourself can be hard enough at times, so think about your worst day of irrational behaviour and double it ... then double it again ... then double it once more just for good measure and you might be somewhere in the region of how mixed up things can get. On the other hand, when things are going right, the good stuff gets even more of the multiplication treatment so it all works out pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some people think mother nature has a twisted sense of humour when she does that magical (some say 'magical' , some say 'voodoo', &lt;i&gt;tomayto&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;tomahto&lt;/i&gt;) thing of synchronising menstrual cycles but she knows what's she's doing. Having all the fireworks and tears and the physical stuff all at once makes sense. It means that for about one week you are both over-sensitive and cranky, probably have cramps and not really in the mood for sex, and then you can return to normal scheduled programming for the rest of the month. Of course, normality may still have its share of over-sensitive moments and crankiness (it's all part of the woman's prerogative), but if all else fails you can still do something romantic and get back to enjoying the sex!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are two key factors in any relationship - knowing your partner, and knowing yourself as best as you can. You may never know everything, and much of what you do learn is gathered over time, but you can look out for the signs for certain types.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The 12 types covered here are in no particular order other than the ideas that came to mind when we started writing:&lt;/p&gt;                        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;1: Xena-wannabe&lt;br /&gt;2: Pussy-loving cat hater&lt;br /&gt;3: Gadget lover&lt;br /&gt;4: Energizer Bunny&lt;br /&gt;5: Closet case&lt;br /&gt;6: Well, if you don't know, I can't tell you - also known as 'WTF'?&lt;br /&gt;7: Motherly&lt;br /&gt;8. Stalker&lt;br /&gt;9: Drama Queen&lt;br /&gt;10: Gutter mind&lt;br /&gt;11: The older woman&lt;br /&gt;12: Willow&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-3681182667555747315?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/3681182667555747315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=3681182667555747315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3681182667555747315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/3681182667555747315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/types.html' title='Types'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6457404589224322973.post-6221804568250350176</id><published>2008-03-21T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:31:46.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All kinds of women</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Women. You can't live without them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoFooter"&gt;That part's simple. Mother nature set things up so that we would all have women in our lives at some stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, you get the picture. What's not so straightforward is HOW you live with women, and how this must be refined depending on the type of woman ... and day of the week ... and month ... and how much chocolate may have been consumed at any given point.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Although no two women are exactly alike, it's possible to identify several types into which women can be characterised. By getting know more about '&lt;i&gt;your&lt;/i&gt;'&lt;a style="" href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; woman, and acting in an appropriate manner, you can save your sanity as well as those nice porcelain plates that you inherited from your favourite grandmother.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, read on and find out a little bit more about the confusing and oft changing world that is known as 'living with a woman'.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style=""&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="1" width="33%"&gt;  &lt;div style="" id="ftn1"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoFootnoteText"&gt;&lt;a style="" href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Do not under ANY circumstances call a woman 'yours'. She might tell you she likes it but historically this approach can often misfire and we advise great caution on this matter. Seriously. Be warned.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6457404589224322973-6221804568250350176?l=tartanraspberry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/feeds/6221804568250350176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6457404589224322973&amp;postID=6221804568250350176' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6221804568250350176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6457404589224322973/posts/default/6221804568250350176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tartanraspberry.blogspot.com/2008/03/all-kinds-of-women.html' title='All kinds of women'/><author><name>Tartan Raspberry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11767091595136377900</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9PDq0ZMhXQs/R-P_7NqQmMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/28ZfEY1jqB0/S220/TartanRaspberry-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
