<?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-2786188095077542839</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:31:33.055-05:00</updated><category term='middle school'/><category term='women'/><category term='alcohol'/><category term='beer'/><category term='babies'/><category term='redheads'/><category term='parties'/><category term='Perspecitives'/><category term='rebellious'/><category term='license'/><category term='newborn'/><category term='thanksgiving'/><category term='chugging'/><category term='Writing'/><category term='embarassment'/><category term='16'/><category term='driving'/><category term='cars'/><category term='life'/><category term='Blogging'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Frankstapher</title><subtitle type='html'>The untold stories of a life full of wild adventures, self embarrassment, personal achievement, sexual conquests, and liquid self-destruction.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-7368381620815688096</id><published>2010-01-05T18:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T21:59:24.322-05:00</updated><title type='text'>150 pages</title><content type='html'>So about three days ago, I finished my manuscript at a whopping &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;58,993&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;words in about&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2 weeks&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I call that a record time. I have been editing it since and it's looking pretty damn good. You are all probably wondering what kind of book it is, but I don't want to give away too much info until I find a publisher. The main character is an unfortunate&amp;nbsp;18 year old boy and it takes place in Manhattan. &lt;b&gt;Try to picture a modern day "Catcher in the Rye", with deeper characters and wilder adventures.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading up and researching the publication process and right now I'm at the "agent hunt" part. This involves searching for somebody to represent and fight in the literary jungle for my manuscript. Wish me luck, and I'll keep you all updated. Frankstapher, out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;PS:&lt;/b&gt; My mom wants me to become an actor. She believes that it's something I'd be good at so she made me go get professional headshots. Mothers... Here is one of the headshots:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJG0oAuZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ywUS895U208/s1600-h/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJG0oAuZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ywUS895U208/s320/2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-7368381620815688096?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/7368381620815688096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2010/01/150-pages.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/7368381620815688096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/7368381620815688096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2010/01/150-pages.html' title='150 pages'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJG0oAuZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ywUS895U208/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-5594742511738020006</id><published>2009-12-27T04:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T04:22:38.752-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Happy Holidays.&lt;/b&gt; Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanakah, or Kwanza, it's all about the same shit: Family. Everybody gets a chance to take a break from work, school, and other busy-related activities to truly catch up with their family. The Holidays aren't about receiving. They aren't about giving. I believe that its all about &lt;b&gt;FAMILY.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Progress on my book: I took a break from writing &amp;nbsp;on Christmas day to edit what I had written so far. &lt;b&gt;To this day, I have finished 10 chapters and written 21208 words. &lt;/b&gt;It is starting to get tricky because the middle of my book is pretty complex and packed with all kinds of action and emotional&amp;nbsp;dialogue. &lt;b&gt;Writing a novel is a very mentally draining activity but I know it will all pay off in the end.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SzcnV1etCgI/AAAAAAAAABo/w8USO1bI1aY/s1600-h/bordesholm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SzcnV1etCgI/AAAAAAAAABo/w8USO1bI1aY/s320/bordesholm.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-5594742511738020006?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/5594742511738020006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-holidays.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/5594742511738020006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/5594742511738020006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SzcnV1etCgI/AAAAAAAAABo/w8USO1bI1aY/s72-c/bordesholm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-3582846934111671738</id><published>2009-12-23T00:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T00:39:01.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Novel</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I am home for the holidays.&lt;/b&gt; What is home to me? Tough question. I was born in &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;San Bernardino, CA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and soon moved to &lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pittsburgh, PA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; at age 3. I have lived in "the burgh" most of my life and eventually went to Penn State only 2 hours away. About two years ago, my mom was offered a really nice job all the way out in &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Reading, CA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. My mom always taught me never to pass up great opportunities, so she&amp;nbsp;definitely&amp;nbsp;took the job. I did not want to live in California though because all my lifetime friends were on the east coast. Fortunately for me, my older half sister and her&amp;nbsp;fiance&amp;nbsp;moved into a big house right down the street from my old house. &lt;b&gt;What luck!&lt;/b&gt; They invited me to live there so I could stay in touch with my Pittsburgh life and get to and from school with ease. Every &lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;chris&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;tmas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; though, I have made it a tradition to fly out to Cali, spend time with my birth giver, and relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;So here I reside momentarily&lt;/b&gt;, in Cali with way to much time on my hands. During the long flight that I had to embark on, a great idea for a book had &lt;b&gt;SLAPED &lt;/b&gt;me in the face. I had instantly began planning out the plot for my first novel. I arrived at my mom's house in &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Reading, CA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;on Sunday night. As of now, I have 6957 words so far. I will keep you all informed of my progress. One rule I have made myself though is to not tell &lt;b&gt;ANYONE &lt;/b&gt;what the book will be about until it is done and hopefully published. As I say to myself everytime before I get into the writing zone, &lt;b&gt;its crunch time!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SzGsSbPObWI/AAAAAAAAABg/ow1T_-OnK-4/s1600-h/writer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SzGsSbPObWI/AAAAAAAAABg/ow1T_-OnK-4/s320/writer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-3582846934111671738?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/3582846934111671738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-first-novel.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/3582846934111671738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/3582846934111671738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-first-novel.html' title='My First Novel'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SzGsSbPObWI/AAAAAAAAABg/ow1T_-OnK-4/s72-c/writer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-746711032730183201</id><published>2009-12-14T19:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T19:10:59.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Its the "Finals" Countdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;As the year winds down to an end, so does my current semester at &lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Penn State&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. A lot of students up here are stressing out &lt;b&gt;BIG TIME&lt;/b&gt; in preparation for some of the most formidable enemies on the face of the planet. These infidels are known as "finals". I saw on the news actually that Barack Obama plans to launch a campaign known as the &lt;b&gt;"War on Finals"&lt;/b&gt;.&amp;nbsp;I was lucky enough this semester to only have two finals: one on the subject of financial and managerial accounting (Zzz Zzz) and another on Elementary Microbiology ( Zzz Zzz Zzz).&amp;nbsp;After realizing that the students who overstudy and stress out over finals end up not doing so well, I have taken a more laid back approach which consists of relaxing 90% of the time and studying the other 10%. It has worked out pretty well for me. &lt;b&gt;Why should I over-prepare for finals, when it is in fact the finals that should prepare for ME!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SyWCpOq6QCI/AAAAAAAAABY/dcVaSnIOmTI/s1600-h/studying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SyWCpOq6QCI/AAAAAAAAABY/dcVaSnIOmTI/s320/studying.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/2786188095077542839-746711032730183201?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/746711032730183201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-finals-countdown.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/746711032730183201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/746711032730183201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-finals-countdown.html' title='Its the &quot;Finals&quot; Countdown'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SyWCpOq6QCI/AAAAAAAAABY/dcVaSnIOmTI/s72-c/studying.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-366534891313268915</id><published>2009-12-13T19:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T19:10:43.311-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hot Dawg Blogger Award</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A few days ago&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I was one of the few bloggers lucky enough to receive &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Hot Dawg Blogger Award &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;from a new friend of mine named &lt;a href="http://plainolebob2.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mr. Bob&lt;/a&gt;. I was surprised and honored to receive this since I am a newbie in the blogger game.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;It is no surprise to anyone who reads my blog that I am new to this kind of thing. Posting writings of my mental thoughts,&amp;nbsp;shenanigans, and stories that may one day make the history books, I am starting to get the hang of it. What I never realized though is the strong sense of community that can be found on Blogger. The community fuels my desire to post. &lt;/span&gt;You know how winners at award ceremonies give a small speech and thank people that may have helped them on their journey?&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; Well I would like to thank my mother for giving birth to me, my partner-in-crime and drinking buddy Jeff, the man/woman who invented Gatorade, Abraham Lincoln, $1 slices of pizza, and last but not least, the community. &lt;/span&gt;I would like to thank you guys and girls.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SyWBzTy7dqI/AAAAAAAAABQ/bm6oHVHFMA0/s1600-h/hotdawgfull+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SyWBzTy7dqI/AAAAAAAAABQ/bm6oHVHFMA0/s320/hotdawgfull+(2).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://plainolebob2.blogspot.com/"&gt;Check out the award here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-366534891313268915?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/366534891313268915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/hot-dawg-blogger-award.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/366534891313268915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/366534891313268915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/hot-dawg-blogger-award.html' title='The Hot Dawg Blogger Award'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SyWBzTy7dqI/AAAAAAAAABQ/bm6oHVHFMA0/s72-c/hotdawgfull+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-2439227508335759223</id><published>2009-12-07T00:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T01:36:26.672-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alcohol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chugging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>"The Snorkel"</title><content type='html'>So this weekend, I learned a new trick called &lt;b&gt;"The Snorkel"&lt;/b&gt;. Basically, you insert a straw in a full beer bottle. You bend the straw at the top, which creates an path for air to travel. This mechanism makes chugging a full beer out of the bottle a &lt;i&gt;cake walk&lt;/i&gt;. I advise that you all try it out and stay tuned for more video footage of the &lt;b&gt;WILD&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;shenanigan&amp;nbsp;I have up my sleeve!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XkpVMBXV8aI&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XkpVMBXV8aI&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-2439227508335759223?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/2439227508335759223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/snorkel.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/2439227508335759223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/2439227508335759223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/snorkel.html' title='&quot;The Snorkel&quot;'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-5642994958726013067</id><published>2009-12-01T14:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T01:36:12.936-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='16'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rebellious'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='license'/><title type='text'>007: Unlicensed to Drive</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2 weeks&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; before I had turned 16, I suffered from a fractured leg because I was dumb enough to slide home in a pick up softball game at a summer camp I attended. I was forced to be sent to a hospital in the middle of nowhere to be casted up and picked up by my mother. The sadness of leaving my favorite place to be in the summer was strong in the heart but I would deal. My lovely mother picked up on my sorrows, and surprised me on my 16th birthday by taking me to get my permit and giving me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxVnCwholbI/AAAAAAAAABI/cYNa1Gr3EQw/s1600/corrolla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxVnCwholbI/AAAAAAAAABI/cYNa1Gr3EQw/s320/corrolla.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;So there I was, cast up to my knee on the left leg, permit in one hand, keys in the other, and one of the BIGGEST grins I had ever had on my face in my entire life. It was the summer after 10th grade and a legendary class of seniors had graduated. They were bad ass, womanizing, joke-cracking alcoholic assholes and for some reason, I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be a legend at my high school. When people said the name Frank, I wanted images and recounts of stories to appear in the minds of many. How would I start?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I had&amp;nbsp; late birthday, being &lt;b style="color: blue;"&gt;July 17, 1989&lt;/b&gt; (remember the date). Getting my license was a long distance away but I could not wait.&lt;b&gt; Being the leader type, I needed the ability to drive at any hour of the day and night.&lt;/b&gt; I somehow &lt;i&gt;convinced&lt;/i&gt; my mom to let me drive to the gym down the street alone. I then began driving to school every morning. People that knew I was very young would wonder with statements like, &lt;b&gt;"Frank, you don't even have your license do you?"&lt;/b&gt; Of course I replied with the casual, &lt;b&gt;"Nah"&lt;/b&gt;. This somehow led to me driving all over the Greater Pittsburgh area on late night female conquests with my buddy Ty. For some reason, girls closer to the Pittsburgh area were easier then the girls in my semi-stuck-up suburban high school. So in retrospect, that was where we gravitated towards. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;A 16 year old boy will do whatever he can to get laid.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-5642994958726013067?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/5642994958726013067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/007-unlicensed-to-drive.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/5642994958726013067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/5642994958726013067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/12/007-unlicensed-to-drive.html' title='007: Unlicensed to Drive'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxVnCwholbI/AAAAAAAAABI/cYNa1Gr3EQw/s72-c/corrolla.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-393209112070695988</id><published>2009-11-30T00:18:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T01:35:29.450-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='babies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='newborn'/><title type='text'>10 Days to Live</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;No I am not dying.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Today is the last day of my 10 day Thanksgiving break. Before this break, I planned on writing at least 3 blog posts, reading around 200 pages, and getting serious work done on a wiki project due this upcoming Friday. But I suffer from a very serious disorder called &lt;b&gt;breakinitis&lt;/b&gt; which does not allow me to do ANY work during college school breaks. My nice little hometown vacation consisted of passing out on the couch, stuffing my belly on gourmet homemade food, playing with my newborn nephew, and catching up via&amp;nbsp;brewskis with old buddies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxNhZloKNWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/1N5CFXGVZL0/s1600/tomfromal.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxNhZloKNWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/1N5CFXGVZL0/s200/tomfromal.bmp" yr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Overall&lt;/b&gt;, the break was pretty boring, but much needed. Why?&amp;nbsp;Since&amp;nbsp;there is not much to do over thanksgiving break, I get alot of time to collect my thoughts. For some strange reason, I learn alot about life during this time of the year. Last year during this break, a great friend and future roommate of mine named &lt;strong&gt;Tom Fromal &lt;/strong&gt;lost his life in a freak car accident. After taking time to collect my thoughts, I finally realized how short and unpredictable life is and how I must live everyday of it like&amp;nbsp;a &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Rockstar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&amp;nbsp;You see,&amp;nbsp;the &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;rockstar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; lives a wild life full of parties, women, and wild adventures. The &lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;dad&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; protects, teaches,&amp;nbsp;enlightens, role models,&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;thinks about the potential the future holds. If you understand my way of thinking, you can conclude that the two mixed together make a bad ass combo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxNiBKFhG7I/AAAAAAAAABA/lezVP3fHn-k/s1600/anicet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxNiBKFhG7I/AAAAAAAAABA/lezVP3fHn-k/s320/anicet.jpg" yr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;This years Thanksgiving break was quite eventful.&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; And to yours and my own surprise, I was only trashed &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;of the 10 nights of the break (&lt;i&gt;downed&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;14 bottles of St Pauli Girl on Thanksgiving Day&lt;/i&gt;).&amp;nbsp;My vacation started with a wild&amp;nbsp;two night booze-filled adventure to the Allegheny College of Meadville, PA to visit a good friend of mine. The wildness winded down as&amp;nbsp;I came home and took the responsibility of entertaining my laboring pregnant sister, who would give birth to my Nephew a few days later. This gift of god had the amazing ability to call all of my family to one house&amp;nbsp;on thanksgiving, as I was an uncle, cousin, brother, and son all at once. Instead of going out and getting &lt;b&gt;SHWASTED&lt;/b&gt;, I was spending time with family I had not seen in years. All my little cousins were all grown up and&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;younger kids filled the roles we used to fill when we were their age as if it were a &lt;b&gt;cycle of life&lt;/b&gt;. The cycle of life sure does move fast. Before you know it, 5 years will pass. When you finally realize that 5 years have passed, 25 years will&amp;nbsp;then pass. And when you finally realize&amp;nbsp;25 years have passed... well you get the point.&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;We must appreciate every second we have&amp;nbsp;in this wacky movie we call&amp;nbsp;life before it ends and the credits roll.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-393209112070695988?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/393209112070695988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/11/10-days-to-live.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/393209112070695988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/393209112070695988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/11/10-days-to-live.html' title='10 Days to Live'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SxNhZloKNWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/1N5CFXGVZL0/s72-c/tomfromal.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-3073970370045153057</id><published>2009-11-23T00:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T01:34:59.565-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='embarassment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='middle school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redheads'/><title type='text'>Red Rejection</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I was in the 6&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; grade.&lt;/b&gt; For 2 weeks, I was crushing hard on this &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;cute little red head&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that had been in the neighboring classroom. I would see her frequently during class switches and &lt;b&gt;DAMN&lt;/b&gt; did those inner butterflies flutter. I had told my closest friend at the time who also agreed that she was a bonified hot babe. So there we were, sitting at recess one day, discussing my affection for her, when another friend of ours came to join the conversation. &amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Frank, you should ask her out. I think she likes you”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, said friend #2 who, unknowingly to me at the time, was feeding me false hopes for his own entertainment. &amp;nbsp;Being&amp;nbsp;naive&amp;nbsp;and &lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;love struck&lt;/span&gt;, I absorbed his advice and words of motivation like a sponge as I commenced to pop the question. My heart began to race as I approached her. My palms were drenched in sweat and something inside my gut began to twitch uncontrollably. I probably should have listened to it. I approached her while she was sitting with one other friend, chatting about some form of girlishly nonsense. &lt;b&gt;“Hey (Chick's Name), will you go out with me??”&lt;/b&gt; trembled the words of a little boy longing for romance but drenched in fear. She blushed. I stood there for 3 seconds of silence which seemed to last 3 years. “No I am sorry, I can’t.” Rejected. I did not know what to do. Was I supposed to cry? Was I supposed to laugh as if it were a joke? Or was I suppose to keep debating with her on why she should go out with me? I turned around and sat back down with my friends. To my surprise, over 20 people witnessed the show and began to question me if I seriously just asked her out and why. I felt like crying but I did not. I think it was because I really liked the attention. &lt;b&gt;I liked the fact that an intense interest in the life of little scrawny Frank had sparked in the hearts, minds, and souls of my peers.&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;I may have been rejected. But I had built up the courage to do what many could not do in a million years. A few select people teased me on how I was rejected but I turned it into a joke and laughed it off with them. In class after lunch, my cute red head teacher had asked me in front of the entire class if the rumors were true, that I had been rejected and all. I replied with a question, &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Miss B., will you go out with me?”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; The classroom at that point had exploded into an out roar of hyena laughs. I went from the reject to the &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;funny&lt;/i&gt; reject&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;To this day&lt;/b&gt;, I have explored all kinds of woman from all ethnic backgrounds, races, heights, weights, only one gender, and only those of the human species. But to this day, my success rate with &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;red heads&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is close to &lt;b&gt;0%&lt;/b&gt;. They say that people long for things that they do not get enough of. &amp;nbsp;I am not saying I have some weird fetish for those of the &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;firery&lt;/span&gt; hair colored genera. Maybe I just want to know, &lt;b&gt;do the curtains match the carpet?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SwoijkFyf5I/AAAAAAAAAAw/egUmB8Y8mt4/s1600/redhead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SwoijkFyf5I/AAAAAAAAAAw/egUmB8Y8mt4/s320/redhead.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-3073970370045153057?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/3073970370045153057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/11/red-rejection.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/3073970370045153057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/3073970370045153057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/11/red-rejection.html' title='Red Rejection'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/SwoijkFyf5I/AAAAAAAAAAw/egUmB8Y8mt4/s72-c/redhead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786188095077542839.post-447083022230789503</id><published>2009-11-18T00:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T01:34:36.012-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspecitives'/><title type='text'>The Beginning: Why I Created This Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;At some point in my life, I realized that different kinds of people come with different kinds of talents, skills and abilities. Some are amazing swimmers. Others can do 100 calculus problems in their heads. A few can control their emotions for the purpose of entertainment. One or two in this world can drink 119 beers&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;in&lt;i&gt; &lt;b&gt;6 hours&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; (Andre the Giant).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What can I do?&lt;/b&gt; I have a number of talents, skills, and abilities. I have experienced all kinds of sports ranging from soccer and football to wrestling and diving. I have a &lt;i&gt;horrendous&lt;/i&gt; shot in basketball but my defense game is unbreechable. My curiousity has lead me to activities of all sorts from the wild frat life, to even acting as a drunken mexican mobster in a school play. My job history is lengthy with variety, as I have worked at many places to include Wendy's, a tuxedo store, and even a summer camp. Call me a&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;jack of all trades. &lt;b&gt;My restlessness and short attention span has taken me has taken me on some WILD adventures, embarrassed me, gotten me into trouble, but has brewed up some outrageous stories that I feel the world should know.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why a Blog? &lt;/b&gt;I have always hated blogs. I feel like 70% of the blogs on the internet are repetitive, sleep-inducing garbage. People rant about their day to day lives, their problems, the problems of the world (politics), their barbie doll collections, etc. It all sounds like the same shit if you ask me. Maybe I am wrong and do not read enough blogs. But all I knew was that I did not want to be one of them. A blogger. Never. Absolutely not. And as I sit here typing my first blog post, I do not see myself as a blogger. &lt;b&gt;I am just a dude trying to tell some funny ass stories from my outrageous perspective of life. &lt;/b&gt;You might want to get with the program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2786188095077542839-447083022230789503?l=frankstapher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/feeds/447083022230789503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/11/beginning-why-i-created-this-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/447083022230789503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2786188095077542839/posts/default/447083022230789503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankstapher.blogspot.com/2009/11/beginning-why-i-created-this-blog.html' title='The Beginning: Why I Created This Blog'/><author><name>Francis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18291435790735812997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fVC9UcEiYQQ/S0PJRUCRulI/AAAAAAAAACA/LDBw8MxCm7s/S220/2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
