<?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-14818679</id><updated>2011-12-22T23:01:58.542-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi!  My Name's Arona.  What's Yours?  Beeeep....</title><subtitle type='html'>מה ענין שמיטה אצל הר סיני?  
רשי, ויקרא כה:א</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>167</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-7420309938678416471</id><published>2011-11-29T10:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T10:32:34.309-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a roommate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Where have all the roommates gone and where are all the girls?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Where's the friendly moving girl who's gonna help me pay the rent?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Isn't there a nice girl who wants a place to live?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; I need a roommate, I'm holding out for a roommate 'till the end of the month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;She's gotta be smart and she's gotta be nice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; And she can't be afraid of bugs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; I need a roommate, I'm holding out for a roommate starting January &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; She's gotta be sure and she's gotta come soon &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; And she's gotta be willing to move, move in with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; Doo doo doo doooo, doo doo doo doooo, doo doo doo doooo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Aaahhh, aaahhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking for a female roommate, shomeret everything, non-smoking of  any kind, to move into your own room in my apt starting January 1st. The  apt. is on the 1st floor, 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom, huge kitchen, big  living room, clean apt., 24-hr laundry room, on Overlook Terr. across  the street from the A train, 5 min walk from Mt Sinai and Key Food.  Lovely building, lots of Jews, quiet neighbors, quiet street. I'd like  to think I'm an easygoing person, respectful, and friendly. I've been  working for a while. I'm looking for someone over 25 and in a similar  stage of life. Email me - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="mailto:aronamichal%40gmail.com" target="_blank"&gt;aronamichal@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  - if you or someone you know is interested. (Please don't contact me on  facebook for this. I don't really check there as much. Email is best.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family:georgia;" &gt;*If you're male and you would like to be my roommate, it must be on a  more permanent basis and I'm gonna need you to love me forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; Thanx!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-7420309938678416471?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/7420309938678416471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=7420309938678416471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7420309938678416471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7420309938678416471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-need-roommate.html' title='I need a roommate'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8914313994504424379</id><published>2011-02-28T14:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T14:09:56.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Imagine There's No Kiddush  {gasp!}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Imagine there's no kiddush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;It's easy if you try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;No liquor near us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Near us only dry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Imagine all the people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Drinking just water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Imagine there's no cholent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;It isn't hard to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;No cake or mini hot dogs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;     And no kugel too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Imagine all the people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;With nothing left to eat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;You... You may say I'm a dreamer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But I'm not the only one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I hope this time you'll sponsor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And the Kiddush will be a hot one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Imagine tons of sponsors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I wonder if you could&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;No need for any hunger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If sponsor you would&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Imagine all the people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Eating in the shul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;You....You may say I'm a dreamer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But I'm not the only one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;     I hope this time you'll sponsor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And the Kiddush will be a hot one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This  is for all you Beatles fans out there.  Fun fact about the Beatles -  The Beatles' famous televised live performance on the Ed Sullivan Show  was on Sunday night, February 9, 1964...which was 27 Shevat 5724 -  making the day before their appearance Shabbat Mevarchim Adar!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8914313994504424379?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8914313994504424379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8914313994504424379&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8914313994504424379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8914313994504424379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2011/02/imagine-theres-no-kiddush-gasp.html' title='Imagine There&apos;s No Kiddush  {gasp!}'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8075361737120244710</id><published>2011-01-25T21:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T21:30:42.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;I can’t fight these emails any longer&lt;br /&gt;And yet I’m not afraid to let them flow.&lt;br /&gt;What started out as shticky has grown out of hand.&lt;br /&gt;I only wish I had the money.  Then I’d stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even as I write this, more money do we need.&lt;br /&gt;          You can sponsor a hot Kiddush.  Don’t make me beg and plead.&lt;br /&gt;And we're not as closer as I ever think we need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can’t fight these emails anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve forgotten what I want to sponsor for.&lt;br /&gt;It’s time to bring your money to the shul.&lt;br /&gt;          Milk Kiddush isn’t cool.**&lt;br /&gt;People, you can’t fight these emails anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Kiddush is such a whirlwind since I said so.&lt;br /&gt;We go running 'round in circles setting up.&lt;br /&gt;And it always seems like we get plenty of sponsors.&lt;br /&gt;          But hot Kiddush costs so much.  We don’t always have enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even as I write these, more money do we need.&lt;br /&gt;You can sponsor a hot Kiddush.  Don’t make me beg and plead.&lt;br /&gt;And we're not as closer as I ever think we need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can’t fight these emails anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve forgotten what I want to sponsor for.&lt;br /&gt;It’s time to bring your money to the shul.&lt;br /&gt;Milk Kiddush isn’t cool,** no never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuz you can’t fight these emails anymore.&lt;br /&gt;          I’ve forgotten what you want to sponsor for.&lt;br /&gt;Even if I have to crawl upon your floor.***&lt;br /&gt;Come begging at your door.***&lt;br /&gt;People, you can’t fight these emails anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;This email was inspired by Glee and REO Speedwagon.  I hope you enjoyed both.&lt;br /&gt;     **This line is from this video - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sdf8DwSbiuU" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?&lt;wbr&gt;v=Sdf8DwSbiuU&lt;/a&gt; - minute 1:21-26.&lt;br /&gt;***No, I won't really do that...probably...&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;As always, if you want off this list,  let me know.  I will take you off right away.  I'm really sorry to have bothered you.  No hard feelings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8075361737120244710?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8075361737120244710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8075361737120244710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8075361737120244710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8075361737120244710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-cant-fight-this-feeling-anymore.html' title='I Can&apos;t Fight This Feeling Anymore'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-4186593982437303240</id><published>2011-01-05T10:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T10:49:58.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Stop Believin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Just a small town girl&lt;br /&gt;Standing in a crowded shul&lt;br /&gt;She took the A train going way uuuptown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a city boy&lt;br /&gt;Born and raised on Bennett Ave&lt;br /&gt;He took the A train going way uuuptown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people in the social hall&lt;br /&gt;The smell of wine and alcohol&lt;br /&gt;For some money there could be some food&lt;br /&gt;Could be more and more and more and more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangers waiting&lt;br /&gt;All around the social hall&lt;br /&gt;For some cholent cooking over niiiight&lt;br /&gt;Friendly people&lt;br /&gt;Living just to find some kugel&lt;br /&gt;Hiding somewhere in the niiiiight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working hard to fill my plate&lt;br /&gt;Everybody cannot wait&lt;br /&gt;Paying anything for hot kiddush&lt;br /&gt;Just one more month&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some are cold, some are hot&lt;br /&gt;But hopefully on this Shabbat&lt;br /&gt;Ooooh the emails never end&lt;br /&gt;They go on and on and on and on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangers waiting&lt;br /&gt;All around the social hall&lt;br /&gt;For some cholent cooking over niiiight&lt;br /&gt;Friendly people&lt;br /&gt;Living just to find some kugel&lt;br /&gt;Hiding somewhere in the niiiiight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't stop sponsoring&lt;br /&gt;Give us all your money&lt;br /&gt;Come on People&lt;br /&gt;Pleeeeeeease&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't stop sponsoring&lt;br /&gt;Give us all your money&lt;br /&gt;Come on People&lt;br /&gt;Pleeeeeeease&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't stop sponsoring&lt;br /&gt;Give us all your money&lt;br /&gt;Come on People&lt;br /&gt;Pleeeeeeease&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;u style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-collapse: collapse; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Footnotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol  style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="border-collapse: collapse;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;This song was inspired by the cast of Glee and Journey.  I hope you enjoyed it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="border-collapse: collapse;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;  There  are 457 email addresses on this list.  If each of you gave $2, we could  have a very nice kiddush.  I'm just saying.  $2 !  That's nothing!  But  it's something to us.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Of  course we encourage a little more than $2 :) b/c not everyone reads all  the way thru and follows this instruction.  Shocking!  I know!  One  day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="border-collapse: collapse;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;As always, if you want off this list,  let me know.  I will take you off right away.  I'm really sorry to have bothered you.  No hard feelings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-4186593982437303240?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/4186593982437303240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=4186593982437303240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4186593982437303240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4186593982437303240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2011/01/dont-stop-believin.html' title='Don&apos;t Stop Believin&apos;'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-6682493962219839739</id><published>2010-12-27T10:44:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T11:18:46.444-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1 little...2 little...3 little trains...4 little...5 little...6 little trains...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;So after driving last night for 2 1/2 hours in the horrible snow storm on a trip that normally takes 45 minutes - Thank you MB for amazing driving and Thank God for us getting home safely, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; I woke up this morning &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and thought "What is the stupidest thing I could possibly do today b/c I want to do that."  The answer is leave my warm apt and go to work.  Then I thought "How am I gonna get to the upper east side??"  Normally I take a bus but I'm not really That stupid and that is soooo not happening today.  I went on the MTA website and it basically said "Stay home, idiot!"  "Eh", I thought.  "It's just a suggestion.  Whatever."  So I decided to go to work.  Why waste a vacation day?  So here's what I did:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thought I'll take the A to 145th, the D up to Yankee Stadium, and the 4 down to 86th where I work.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The D was iffy and the announcements were not clear.  Decided a more stupider thing would be to get stuck in the Bronx so I nixed that idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thought I'd take the A to the C to the 86th St crosstown.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No crosstowns.  My friend's facebook status said he had to walk across b/c there were no crosstowns.  Apparently facebook is more accurate than the MTA website.  And some guy at the bus stop said he'd been waiting for 1/2 hour and didn't see any buses pass by.  OK......I don't judge.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Went back down to try to take the C to 42nd to take the Shuttle across to take the 4 up while kicking myself for getting off the C in the first place, and then kicking myself for not thinking of this plan while I was still on the A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;D came local before the C.  Took that.  Then I heard there are no C trains running.  Good choice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Realized the D does not cross paths with the Shuttle.  Crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Switched at 59th to the 1 train.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Took the 1 down to 42nd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Saw the option of taking the 7 and stood and debated: the 7 is less likely to be crowded b/c no one thinks to use it as a shuttle and take it across but the S is more likely to be running as it only goes back and forth between two stops.  Took the S.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got to 42nd and decided to take the 4 or 5 express trains up to 86th since it's only two stops.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Let a local train go and waited for the express trains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Heard an announcement that all express trains are running local.  ugh!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Waited and got on the 6 local train and got to 86th.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got to work at 10:30 and spent the first 45 minutes at work writing this blog and talking about my insane trek to my 3 other coworkers who made it here - out of an office of 10 people - 6 of whom live in the area and walk to work but only 2 came (grrr....) and the 3rd coworker who came lives near me and also had a trek.  She took the A to the C and walked across the park.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Found out my boss is on vacation.  FML.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;So in total, I took 6 different trains to get to work.  I think that might be a record.  Do I win a prize?  Can it be that I can go home?  Please?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-6682493962219839739?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/6682493962219839739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=6682493962219839739&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6682493962219839739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6682493962219839739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/12/1-little2-little3-little-trains4.html' title='1 little...2 little...3 little trains...4 little...5 little...6 little trains...'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2221997117777176007</id><published>2010-12-13T01:19:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T10:06:37.767-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Deepest Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  &lt;br /&gt;Our deepest fear is that we are powerful&lt;br /&gt;beyond measure.  &lt;br /&gt;It is our light, not our darkness,&lt;br /&gt;that most frightens us.  &lt;br /&gt;We ask ourselves "Who am I to be brilliant,&lt;br /&gt;gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?"  &lt;br /&gt;Actually, who are you NOT to be? &lt;br /&gt;You are a child of God. &lt;br /&gt;Your playing small does not serve the world.  &lt;br /&gt;There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that&lt;br /&gt;other people &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; won't feel insecure &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;around you.  &lt;br /&gt;We were born to make manifest&lt;br /&gt;the glory of God that is within us.  &lt;br /&gt;It is not just some of us.   It is in Everyone.  &lt;br /&gt;And as we let our own light shine,&lt;br /&gt;we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  &lt;br /&gt;As we are liberated from our own fears,&lt;br /&gt;our presence automatically liberates others."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;~ Marianne Williamson ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2221997117777176007?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2221997117777176007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2221997117777176007&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2221997117777176007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2221997117777176007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/12/our-deepest-fear-is-not-that-we-are_5639.html' title='Our Deepest Fear'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5058525799214872209</id><published>2010-12-01T21:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T21:57:04.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Candlelight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I'll tell a tale (tale tale tale)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;of a girl who sends email (mail mail mail)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;about chulent and cake and ale (ale ale ale)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;but this month to no avail (vail vail vail)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;yeah yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Emails went on and on and on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;      until the kiddush cost was gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I eat my chulent in the shul sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sayin' yuuumo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pass the kugel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Just wanna bentch rosh chodesh every month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Singin' yummo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Need more cholent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And we say the molad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;   oh yeah for every month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;then we say hallel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;when rosh chodesh comes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And I told you once&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and I told you twice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;to sponsor each kiddush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;by that Wednesday night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;This month we're done (done done done)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;     We have collected all the funds (funds funds funds)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;From very generous someones (ones ones ones)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;So save your money for next month (please please please)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;yeah yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Emails went on and on and on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; until the kiddush cost was gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I eat my chulent in the shul sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sayin' yuuumo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pass the kugel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Just wanna bentch rosh chodesh every month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Singin' yummo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Need more cholent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And we say the molad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;   oh yeah for every month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Then we say hallel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;when rosh chodesh comes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And I told you once&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and I told you twice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;to sponsor each kiddush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; by that Wednesday night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And the great donation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Finally we don't need others&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;What a celebration&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;of not running over budget&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Cuz they they they&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;have paid it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and ayayay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Nes gadol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Nes gadol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;    Nes gadol haya po&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Nes gadol haya po&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Nes gadol haya po&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;po po po po....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;do do do do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;do do do do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I eat my chulent in the shul sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sayin' yuuumo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Pass the kugel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Just wanna bentch rosh chodesh every month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;    Singin yummo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Need more cholent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And we say the molad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;  oh yeah for every month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Then we say hallel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;when rosh chodesh comes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;And I told you once&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and I told you twice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;to sponsor each kiddush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; by that Wednesday night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;This email was inspired by the Maccabeats video "Candlelight".  I hope you enjoyed both.  Please sponsor future kiddushim.  Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. As always, if you want off this email list, just let me know.  No hard feelings. &lt;br /&gt;p.p.s. If you do want to sponsor something specifically this month, there are many other sponsorship opportunities available in the shul.  I don't want to list them all here for fear of leaving one out, but definitely ask me, or email &lt;a href="mailto:office@mtsinaishul.com" target="_blank"&gt;office@mtsinaishul.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you so much.  Tizku L'mitzvot.  Chag Urim Sameach, Shabbat Shalom, and Chodesh Tov :)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5058525799214872209?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5058525799214872209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5058525799214872209&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5058525799214872209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5058525799214872209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/12/candlelight.html' title='Candlelight'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2839161531223005558</id><published>2010-10-31T19:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T19:27:33.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Vote for Cholent!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" &gt;This coming Tuesday, November the 2&lt;br /&gt; is an important day for me and for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; All Americans from there and from here&lt;br /&gt; will exercise their right to vote this year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Your vote is of course your very own choice.&lt;br /&gt; That is where you have a voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I implore you to make the right choice this Tuesday&lt;br /&gt; Vote for cholent and kugel, ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Get out the vote.  Tell all your friends&lt;br /&gt; before this year's election day ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Let everyone know what you want this Shabbat.&lt;br /&gt; Cholent and kugel and everything hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So when the polls open on November the 2,&lt;br /&gt; Sponsor the kiddush so we can have hot food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Go to &lt;a href="http://mtsinaishul.com/" target="_blank"&gt;mtsinaishul.com&lt;/a&gt; to pay.&lt;br /&gt; Hurry before the end of Election day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we don't get enough money before we shop,&lt;br /&gt;the kiddush might just have to stop.  {Gasp!}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sponsor the kiddush with all of your money&lt;br /&gt;Even if you don't think this poem is funny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of us as you vote in this great nation&lt;br /&gt;And thank you so much for your generous donation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;Co-chair, The "stalking ppl and getting them to sponsor things" committee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. the author of this poem does not endorse any specific candidates.  but I wish the commercials would stop.&lt;br /&gt;p.p.s. I wouldn't mind seeing this commercial again - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owGykVbfgUE" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?&lt;wbr&gt;v=owGykVbfgUE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and this one - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkd5dJIVjgM" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?&lt;wbr&gt;v=zkd5dJIVjgM&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.p.p.s. If you got this email and wish to be taken off this list, just let me know.  Sorry for the bother.  No hard feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2839161531223005558?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2839161531223005558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2839161531223005558&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2839161531223005558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2839161531223005558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/10/vote-for-cholent.html' title='Vote for Cholent!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5778873371305424088</id><published>2010-09-17T12:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T12:45:11.555-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome 5771!</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Carona%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Edwardian Script ITC"; 	panose-1:3 3 3 2 4 7 7 13 8 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:script; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:36pt;" &gt;Gmar Chatima Tova&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:10pt;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;Jews around the world have begun their 5771st year on earth! Who would have believed this possible?  If anyone had told Abraham that his people would be around this long, he probably would have been astounded. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine, we did this without beheading anyone on TV, without a single suicide bomber, without kidnapping and murdering school children, without slaughtering Olympic athletes, and without flying airplanes into skyscrapers. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;We lasted this long despite hundreds of years as slaves in Egypt, 40 years of wandering in the desert, the mighty Roman army who nailed us to ten thousand crosses; despite the best efforts of fervent Crusaders, the Spanish Inquisition, Hitler's Third Reich, Stalin's gulags, Arab wars of annihilation and 100 years of hateful terrorism, and hundreds of hate-filled UN resolutions. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;How did we Jews do it? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;We survived by concentrating our efforts on education, love of family, faith, hard work, helping one another and a passionate dedication to life no matter what evil befell us.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;We hung in there in the hope that the rest of the world would one day overcome its hatreds, jealousies, and violence and join us in a life of cooperation and mutual respect.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;We're not there yet, but we're still hopeful.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:14pt;" &gt;And in Jewish places of worship all around the world, this is exactly what we pray for with all the strength in our hearts! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:10pt;" &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:36pt;" &gt;Gmar Chatima Tova&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:10pt;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:36pt;" &gt;and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:10pt;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:36pt;" &gt;Welcome 5771&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:10pt;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/14818679-5778873371305424088?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5778873371305424088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5778873371305424088&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5778873371305424088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5778873371305424088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/09/welcome-5771.html' title='Welcome 5771!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-6445648844187148648</id><published>2010-06-28T13:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T13:51:32.141-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PG rating</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;A friend asked me the other day a question to which I did not know the  answer.  I said "elephino".  He said "huh?"  I explained the joke to  him.  It's what you get when you cross an elephant and a rhino.  (it's only my favoritest joke ever!)   He then said "Well this is a family show and we'd like to keep our  PG rating please.  It should be "eckiphino".  Thank you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-6445648844187148648?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/6445648844187148648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=6445648844187148648&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6445648844187148648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6445648844187148648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/06/pg-rating.html' title='PG rating'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8763184600652417310</id><published>2010-04-27T12:16:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T22:41:31.172-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My "Y" key strikes again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My guy-friend and I were just comparing crazy stories of how people randomly meet their spouses.  He told me about his friend who was flying back to NY from somewhere in Europe and b/c the plane had engine trouble, they had to make an emergency landing in Dublin so she was only in Dublin for shabbat by Chabad (of course) and that's where she met her husband.  I said that's not such a good story and I told him about my friend who was playing AIM pranks and her friend ended up meeting her own husband thru that and my story is cooler.  Then I felt bad so I said "ok, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ours&lt;/span&gt; is a cool story" when I meant to say "Yours".   Damn Ou Stupid "Y" Ke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(This new post is like a sequel to this one - http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/12/who-needs-y-key.html )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8763184600652417310?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8763184600652417310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8763184600652417310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8763184600652417310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8763184600652417310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-y-key-strikes-again.html' title='My &quot;Y&quot; key strikes again!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1760238998254401468</id><published>2010-04-18T17:40:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T23:00:12.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney and I are in a Fight!  Grrr....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I never thought I would ever say this, but Disney and I are in a fight!&lt;br /&gt;Last year, Disney had a deal where if you register your birthday, you get a free day at one of the Disney parks.  So of course I went right away to register my birthday.  Of course my birthday last year fell out on Shabbat.  Ugh!  So I called Disney.  They had all these rules where you have to go on the exact day of your birthday with ID and no exceptions and it has to be Your birthday, not your friend's...etc.  So then I asked well what if your birthday is Feb. 29th?  They said you can choose either Feb 28 or March 1 to celebrate.  So I said well maybe you can make that exception for me.  I'm a religious Jew and I'm a Sabbath observer and I can't come on Saturday but can I come on Sunday.  They said no.  Feb 29th does not exist in 2010 so that's why they have that exception.  Apparently my birthday exists and therefore no exception.  So then I gave them this whole sob story how I love Disney and I'm the biggest fan and this is a very special birthday for me (b/c I turned "20") and I would love to celebrate it in the park and can I please please come on that Sunday, Aug 2.  (and now you all know my birthday.  I expect presents :)  They said no.  I asked for a manager and gave the manager the same sob story.  They said no.  So really Disney actually still is anti-simetic and we were in a fight last year, when I actually thought of suing Disney for racial discrimination.  Except I don't have money to pay a lawyer and my friends are not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; generous - and that's totally fine.  I didn't expect any free lawyer service.  Just saying it to point out that there will be no suing Disney.  So Disney and I were in a fight already last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, they decided to do inspire ppl to volunteer.  If you register with them and volunteer on a program that they approve of, they will also give you a free day in the park.  So I'm going to LA in 2 weeks and it occured to me that I should volunteer and get my free day in Disneyland.  Genius!  I went to the website and they said their deal is over.  They inspired a million ppl to volunteer and that's it.  They're done.  They don't need any more ppl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF?!?!  I want my frickin free day in the park!  You suck Disney!* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(*omg I don't really mean that.  I still love you.  but a little bit you're not so nice today)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1760238998254401468?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1760238998254401468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1760238998254401468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1760238998254401468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1760238998254401468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/04/disney-and-i-are-in-fight-grrr.html' title='Disney and I are in a Fight!  Grrr....'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-7491260832039943426</id><published>2010-04-12T09:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T10:06:58.291-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids say the darndest things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;My niece is 6 and my older nephew is 4.  They are generally really good kids.  They usually listen and they don't really do anything too bad like break things or run into the street.  And even when they do something they're not supposed to, they are just so darned cute about it b/c they really don't know they're not supposed to be doing it.  And they always say the funniest things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one of the meals over Pesach, my nephew was not sitting at the table nicely so my sister and my mom were trying to tell him to sit nicely and eat nicely and be good...etc.  Well he didn't like that so he said to them "That's not right.  I'm telling Doda!"  (I'm Doda :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we took them to the park.  My niece was playing nicely and my nephew went to go pick flowers.  He picked all the flowers the NYC Parks Dept had planted so nicely.  I said "Moshe, what are you doing?  You can't do that."  And my niece also told him "Mosh!  You can't do that!  What are you doing??"  He said "I'm picking flowers for Doda's wedding"  Well I melted into a puddle.  So I said to him "Are you gonna be the flower girl at my wedding?"  He said "No, I'm gonna be the flower Boy!"  Then I thought I don't have a groom yet.  So I asked my nephew "Can you be the groom?  And I'll marry you"  He said "No I can't marry you.  I'm not married yet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yummmmmy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-7491260832039943426?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/7491260832039943426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=7491260832039943426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7491260832039943426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7491260832039943426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/04/kids-say-darndest-things.html' title='Kids say the darndest things'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-6776675646170350766</id><published>2010-03-09T11:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T11:21:33.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Real Story of Purim" by the "Kiddush" Committee</title><content type='html'>&lt;equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;style="font-family: lucida grande;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Carona%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype style="font-family: lucida grande;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceType"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype style="font-family: lucida grande;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceName"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype style="font-family: lucida grande;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt; 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&lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Real Story of Purim&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;So you thought you knew the story of Purim, eh? Well guess again. That Megillah you heard a week and a half ago was just the story they want you to hear. We are offering you the real story. But you can’t tell anyone……it’s a secret….shshshshshsh…..&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: lucida grande;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Princess Bride, by S. Morgenstern, with a little help from the "kiddush" committee.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Chapter One.&lt;br /&gt;Buttercup (who’s real name was Esther, but she didn’t want anyone to know she was from the Megillah) was raised on a small farm in the country of &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Florin&lt;/st1:place&gt;. Her favorite pastimes were learning Torah and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. His name was MordeWestley, but she never called him that. She called him Farm Boy. For example, she might say something like "Farm Boy, fetch me that pitcher that's only a foot away from me." “As you wish” was all he ever said to her. That day she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish" what he meant was, “I love you.” And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Meanwhile, King Humperveirosh decided he needed a new wife and set his sights on Princess (Esther) Buttercup. However, he soon learned that she was in love with MordeWestley and he would have to eliminate MordeWestley in order to get to the princess. So he hired Count HamanRugen – he’s Swedish – to “eliminate” MordeWestley. Count HamanRugen hired 3 brilliant men to bring the princess to the castle knowing that MordeWestley would come to rescue her and then he would be able to “eliminate” MordeWestley.  When I say brilliant, let me put it this way. Have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?  Morons compared to these guys.  The 3 brilliant men he sent out were Vizzigtan, Inigo Monteresh, and CharFezzik.  They each could only speak one phrase of English. Vizzigtan could only say “inconceivable!” but he didn’t really know what it means.   Inigo Monteresh could only say “Hello.  My name is Inigo Monteresh.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die."  Charfezzik knew more of the language and was especially good at rhyming.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Just as intended, the 3 geniuses captured the princess and MordeWestley went after her to rescue her.   They were able to successfully bring the princess to King Humperveirosh but MordeWestley eventually caught up with them.  MordeWestley was able to kill Vizzigtan very quickly and painlessly using Iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadly poisons known to man.  After MordeWestley “eliminated” Vizzigtan, Inigo Monteresh and CharFezzik decided to help him rescue the princess.  CharFezzik told MordeWestley all about King Humperveirosh’s and Count HamanRugen’s plans to kill him and dump him in the Pit of Despair which one could get to via a tree that was about 50 Amot tall, almost as tall as CharFezzik.  Inigo Monteresh just kept repeating that one line……which literally almost killed MordeWestley.   He passed out from annoyance and would not wake up.  They needed a Miracle!  Inigo Monteresh and CharFezzik brought MordeWestley to Miracle Max and his witch...I mean wife Valerie who said they could revive MordeWestley because he was only mostly dead.  There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead.  Now, mostly dead is slightly alive.  Now, all dead...well, with all dead, there's usually only one thing you can do….&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Go through his clothes and look for loose change.  Miracle Max gave them a miracle pill.  The chocolate coating makes it go down easier, but you have to wait fifteen minutes for full potency, and he shouldn't go swimming after for at least--An hour--Yeah, an hour--A good hour.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;When MordeWestley awoke, Inigo Monteresh had to quickly learn more than just that one phrase so as not to almost kill MordeWestley again.  So he did.  He said a mouthful.  He explained the situation to MordeWestley – explain, no, there was too much.  He summed up.  "Buttercup is to marry  CHumperveirosh in a little less than chalf an hour, so all we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the princess, make our escape, after I kill Count CHamanRugen."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;The 3 of them were successful.  They recaptured the princess!   But in order to make their escape, they had to go through the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Fire&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Swamp&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; where they found many interesting things such as Fruits Of Unusual Sizes (FOUS’s) and the flame spurt, which is no problem because there's a popping sound preceding each.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;MordeWestley and Princess Buttercup escaped and were able to get married. They hired a very Impressive Clergyman to be Mesader Kiddushin and of course Inigo Monteresh and CharFezzik were Eidei – well everything…. The Mesader Kiddushin began his speech – “Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us togeda today. Mawwage, that bwessed awwangement, that dweam wifin a dweam……” but no one likes speeches under the chupah….. &lt;i&gt;“Harei At”&lt;/i&gt;….Say &lt;i&gt;“Harei At”&lt;/i&gt;…..said Princess (Esther) Buttercup, in order to move the wedding along. The Impressive Clergy then asked MordeWestley, “Have you da wing?” And he did.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Eventually, the wedding ended and Princess Buttercup and MordeWestley were married and since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure.  This one left them all behind.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;But our story doesn't end there.  Princess Esther Buttercup and MordeWestley decided to throw a kiddush to celebrate in shul with all the people who couldn't travel out to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Florin&lt;/st1:place&gt; to be at the wedding.  The wanted to have some Fruits Of Unusual Size (FOUS's) and some Popcorn - there's a popping sound preceding each kernel, and of course some Cholent, where the mutton is nice and lean...  But they didn't have any money for the kiddush.  So they decided to go into Piracy.  MordeWestley made a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;~ The End ~&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;And now I bid you all a farewell.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I do not envy you the headache you will have after reading this.  But, in the meantime, rest well, and dream of large women.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;And Sponsor the Kiddush!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;!!!Happy (after)Purim!!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: lucida grande;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Was that not the best story ever?!  How could you Not sponsor the kiddush after that?&lt;br /&gt;p.p.s. As always, if you want to be removed from this email list, just let me know.  No hard feelings.  I'll still let you have some cholent.&lt;br /&gt;p.p.p.s. Just to be clear, this does not imply that this week will be a hot kiddush. That will depend on how much money we get.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-6776675646170350766?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/6776675646170350766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=6776675646170350766&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6776675646170350766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6776675646170350766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/03/real-story-of-purim-by-kiddush.html' title='&quot;The Real Story of Purim&quot; by the &quot;Kiddush&quot; Committee'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-3570628296648911446</id><published>2010-01-27T00:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T01:01:22.737-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mert &amp; Dekins!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JX9Hma4K9Ik/S1_VudjEhSI/AAAAAAAAAKg/8xn0oLWTetk/s1600-h/Mert+and+Dekins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JX9Hma4K9Ik/S1_VudjEhSI/AAAAAAAAAKg/8xn0oLWTetk/s320/Mert+and+Dekins.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431294669814531362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Mert &amp;amp; Dekins!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is from when I went to see Newsies at YU.  The story behind it is that waaaay back once upon a time, my friends played 2 characters named Adam Mert and Corey Dekins.  After that, they tried to make sure that Mert and Dekins made an appearance in every show.  Now it's become a tradition in YCDS, altho the kids now have no idea why, and that is why this door was in Newsies.  And I got very excited and took this picture.  And then they yelled at me.  B/c we all know there's no eating, drinking, and smoking flowers allowed in the theater. :)  Fun times!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-3570628296648911446?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/3570628296648911446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=3570628296648911446&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3570628296648911446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3570628296648911446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2010/01/mert-dekins-this-is-from-when-i-went-to.html' title='Mert &amp; Dekins!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JX9Hma4K9Ik/S1_VudjEhSI/AAAAAAAAAKg/8xn0oLWTetk/s72-c/Mert+and+Dekins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5087101409293121483</id><published>2009-12-07T12:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T10:08:04.424-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A, E, I, O, U</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My "Y" key on my keyboard doesn't alwas work.  It's very touch and go.  It's a little annoing.  You might think it could be worse.  It could be a more popular letter, like E or T or something you need more often.  Who needs a Y?  Here is how important a "Y" key is.  When I ask a guy friend how his family is, or how his date was last nite.  With no "Y" key, it comes out like "How is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;our&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; famil doing?"  or "How was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;our&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; date last night?" My favorite is "Where do ou see &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;our&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; life going in 5 years?"  I can only hope he thinks I'm talking in plural for some unexplained reason like nurses do.  But he's probably not thinking that and it's just awkward.  I guess my keyboard is really following the vowel rule - A, E, I, O, U, and Sometimes Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5087101409293121483?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5087101409293121483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5087101409293121483&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5087101409293121483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5087101409293121483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/12/who-needs-y-key.html' title='A, E, I, O, U'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-9157721873871032216</id><published>2009-11-12T10:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T10:51:55.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Level 2?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="display: none;" id=":316"&gt;♫ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=":317"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I was recently sitting at work having a really hard day and I was so distracted so I decided to go for a little walk.  As I got out of the stairwell, I bumped into a woman on the first floor who I don't think was American but I don't really remember.  She asked me "Where can I find level 2?"  I do not make these things up.  I wish I had thought at the time to say "Well you have to slay the dragon before you can get to level 2."  Sadly, I did not.  I just smiled and said  "It's one flight up."  She said thank you and we parted ways.  And then I burst out laughing.  It definitely helped me have a better day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-9157721873871032216?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/9157721873871032216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=9157721873871032216&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/9157721873871032216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/9157721873871032216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-was-recently-sitting-at-work-having.html' title='Level 2?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2553678007670240726</id><published>2009-07-08T10:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T10:34:17.159-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #789</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Always make sure you lock the bathroom door.  Double check if you need to.  Don't take that lock for granted.  The person on the outside of the door sure doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2553678007670240726?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2553678007670240726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2553678007670240726&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2553678007670240726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2553678007670240726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/07/survival-tip-789.html' title='Survival Tip #789'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5895027309546145614</id><published>2009-07-08T10:16:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T10:27:06.536-04:00</updated><title type='text'>FML #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;This is how my day went yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Still no elevator in my building.  Must climb 5 flights of stairs every day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hurt my bad knee somehow.  shooting pains when I do stairs.  don't wanna sleep on the street so still climbing 5 flights of stairs every day.  ouchies.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Went to the orthopedist yesterday.  She said it's probably nothing and it will go away soon hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;walked from her to work.  got hungry.  bought an ice cream bar.  didn't taste so good.  finished it anyways.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;got chocolate on my shirt.  ugh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finally remembered I have a Tide-To-Go pen.  shmeared it on the stain.  now i have big wet bloches on my chest.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tide dried finally.  Tide does not work.  still have stains.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;got to the block where I work.  Robert Pattinson was filming a movie there!  Score!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;still have stains on my shirt.  thank God for long hair to cover the stains.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;went out with friends to a comedy club.  had to go to the bathroom.  went  to the men's room.  yaaay mistake...?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;door didn't lock quite like it was supposed to.  a man walked in on me.  I screamed.  he slammed the door.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I finished, walked out and looked at him - still waiting to use the bathroom - and I said "hi.  I'm not mortified.  nope.  not mortified at all.  have a good night."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;got home at midnight, knee hurting from climbing the stairs in the train station and still no elevator in my building so up 5 flights I go on my bad knee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Eff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;on the up side, I had a really really fun july 4th in Boston and I saw Robert Pattinson yesterday and I had a really fun night last night with my HMS girls.  so I really can't complain.  except this is my blog so yes I can.  wuhoo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5895027309546145614?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5895027309546145614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5895027309546145614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5895027309546145614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5895027309546145614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/07/fml-2.html' title='FML #2'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-3823919239063531881</id><published>2009-06-17T01:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T02:04:07.157-04:00</updated><title type='text'>FML</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;This is how my week has been so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;got an eye infection.  couldn't wear my contacts.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;wore glasses all week.  infection went away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;had to send in my glasses to upgrade the prescription.  had to put on lenses.  got a new eye infection&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;got home without my new glasses so woke up and had to put lenses in my infected eye.  ouchies!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;got to work and decided to take out lenses to heal my eye.  relief!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;couldn't see b/c no lenses and no glasses.  got dizzy and headache.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;picked up my new glasses so now I could see.  score!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;new glasses are much stronger.  got dizzy and headache.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;decided to go home at 10am.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;bus that never comes when I need it finally came right away.  sweet!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;coudln't find my metrocard.  had no change.  dammit!  thank God for nice ppl on the bus who had change of 2 dollar bills.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;walked from the bus.  right eye still bright red, irritated and hurting.  managed to poke my left eye.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;got home.  decided to test my brand new a/c with a timer.  plugged the a/c into the timer and wondered why the a/c didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;plugged the timer into an outlet.  now it works.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;took a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;went out for a friend's birthday.  went to wash.  walked into the corner of the counter and then tripped into the washing station.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;came home.  took a shower.  went to bed.  tomorrow is a new day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-3823919239063531881?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/3823919239063531881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=3823919239063531881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3823919239063531881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3823919239063531881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/06/fml.html' title='FML'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-4999059975330771938</id><published>2009-03-12T13:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T13:08:05.349-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wonderful Thing About Purim</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The wonderful thing about Purim&lt;br /&gt;is Purim's a wonderful thing!&lt;br /&gt;Haman tried to kill Mordechai&lt;br /&gt;So Esther married the king.&lt;br /&gt;They saved the Jews.&lt;br /&gt;It was good news.&lt;br /&gt;And now it's fun fun fun!&lt;br /&gt;And the most wonderful thing about Purim.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is getting tons of food right before Pesach!  What's up with that?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-4999059975330771938?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/4999059975330771938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=4999059975330771938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4999059975330771938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4999059975330771938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/03/wonderful-thing-about-purim-is-purims.html' title='The Wonderful Thing About Purim'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5078215980869979086</id><published>2009-03-09T15:09:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T15:21:31.710-04:00</updated><title type='text'>חג פורים שמח</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Taanit Esther is the International Day for עגונות - Agunot.&lt;br /&gt;An עגונה is a woman who is no longer in a functional marriage and whosse husband cannot or will not give her a Jewish divorce - a גט.&lt;br /&gt;ORA - the Organization for the Resolution of Agunot - is a non-profit organization which assists disputing couples in resolving their differences in order to effectuate a timely Jewish divorce in accordance with the highest standards of Jewish law.&lt;br /&gt;I am a single woman living in a singles community among friends and we live our lives freely and independently with no one controlling our lives except us.  We often take that for granted.  עגונות don't have that luxury.  This year, rather than going nuts on mishloach manot, I donated money to ORA.  I chose ORA to remind myself and others that while I am having a super fun care-free happy פורים, there are women out there who are suffering tremendously and they deserve to also have a super fun care-free happy פורים.&lt;br /&gt;For more information on ORA, check out &lt;a href="http://www.getora.com/index.html"&gt;http://www.getora.com/index.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;חג פורים שמח!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanx DS and ZK for the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5078215980869979086?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5078215980869979086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5078215980869979086&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5078215980869979086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5078215980869979086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post_09.html' title='חג פורים שמח'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-4654738622690072915</id><published>2009-03-02T14:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T14:32:44.753-05:00</updated><title type='text'>צדקה ממני*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I was playing with my niece the other day and somewhere, she picked up the word "hate" and was saying it about everything.  She even said to my dad "I hate you".  So I did my darndest to get her to stop.  I said that's not a nice word.  We don't say things like that.  Maybe we don't Like something but we don't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt;.  And I made her apologize to my dad.  And every time she would use the word "hate", I would try soooo hard not to laugh or smile - b/c she's so fun and cute and I can't not smile when she talks - so I tried so hard to keep a straight face and I would say something like "That is not a nice word.  We don't use words like that.  Maybe I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt; the word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt;, but we don't use that word.  It's not nice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all that, I was explaining to my mom and the other grandparents that I hate when my name is announced in Shul.  I just don't like the attention.  I guess my niece learned a good lesson - and she taught me one also.  She caught me and said "Doda, we don't use the word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt;.  Say you're sorry". &lt;br /&gt;So I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*צדקה ממני.  My niece is so smart and I love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*That phrase - "Tzadkah mimeni" - Basically, she is right and I'm wrong - is from Parshat Vayeshev (Bereishit 38:26) when Tamar proves Yehuda wrong and he admits it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-4654738622690072915?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/4654738622690072915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=4654738622690072915&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4654738622690072915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4654738622690072915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='צדקה ממני*'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2876515084561379437</id><published>2009-02-22T11:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T11:46:01.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>25 things about me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;There's this thing going around Facebook to write 25 things about yourself and then tag all your friends.  I felt like also doing that for here.  and since I haven't posted in a while, I figured it's a good way to get back into my blog for all my loyal reader.  Thank you for still reading.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I don't like artificial or chemical smells like perfumes or air      fresheners. I especially hate the smells of lavender and vanilla....and I      just hate all of them. They make me nauseated.  I can't walk thru      Macy's without holding my nose.  I like natural smells like freshly      cut grass, or the smell after it rains, or someone cooking. I think my      favorite smell is freshly cut grass. I miss the suburbs.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="2" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I used to think that all jewish men were bald and they wear      kippot to cover their bald spots. All the jewish men I knew were bald and      all my dad's non-jewish friends all had hair. so it made perfect sense to      me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="3" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;My favorite movie is Aladdin and my favorite song is A Whole New      World.  I'm a hopeless romantic and I love fairytales.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="4" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I hate reading. If the book is that good, they'll eventually make      a movie out of it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="5" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I've been invited to 99 weddings. I went to 79 of them and will      be going to my 80th in March, IY"H. I had a dress made for my      sister's wedding in 2002 and I've worn it to 36 weddings, plus one purim      costume plus one Oscars party. I've only been a bridesmaid for my sister,      but I still feel that the movie "27 Dresses" is about my life      and one day I will put on my "28th dress".&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="6" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I have a very intense fear of drowning. I can't take baths b/c of      all the horror movies where someone's in the bath and some killer walks in      and drowns the person in the bath. (I've never seen Psycho. I still      shower. Don't you worry).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="7" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I was a lifeguard at a day camp for about 6 years. If you are a      teenager now and you lived in or near Bergen County, NJ when you were like      5, and you're female, I probably taught you how to swim.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="8" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I have a picture of the entire cast of Cheers and they all signed      it to me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="9" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I was on the tv show "Where in the World is Carmen San      Diego?" If you can find my episode on youtube, I'll pay you lots of      money. I was looking for Robocrook who stole the citadel from somewhere in      Canada.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="10" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Most ppl brake normal bones like their feet or arms. I broke my      coccyx. That's the little tiny bone at the bottom end of the spinal      column. I can't sit on hard surfaces for long periods of time. What a pain      in the butt....quite literally.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="11" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I also broke my foot in 2 places when I was in Israel. I wasn't      even hiking. No good story out of it. I was dancing at our chanukah chagiga.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="12" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I've been to a disney park 16 times. 4 times to Disneyland in CA      and 12 times to Walt Disney World in FL.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="13" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I want to be a singing voice in a Disney movie.  &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="14" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;If I could do something with 100% certainty it would be      successful, I would be a voice in a Disney movie, the song would be      nominated for - and win - an Oscar for best song and I would get to      perform it at the Academy Awards. And of course I would wear my green      dress from my sister's wedding. Or maybe I'd have a new one      made....hmm....&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="15" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Orlando Bloom is one HOT pirate. Keira Knightly is very lucky.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="16" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I was chased around Universal Studios by Dracula. That was      soooooo scary.  I never shoulda made a comment about garlic.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="17" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;There is a wedding hall in brooklyn - Ateret Chynka - that no      longer has mixed seating all because of me. After I found that out, I made      it a fun game to see what kind of trouble I could cause whenever I go to a      wedding in that hall. The last wedding I went to there, they  played      only one round of Od Yishama also b/c of me. One day, they'll have a mug      shot of me on the door with a note under it that says "Don't let this      woman in". Of course it will be in Yiddish so I won't understand and      I'll walk right in anyways.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="18" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;One day, I'm gonna learn how to wear my hair curly and actually      look normal and feel comfortable with it and I won't care what other ppl      think of it. One day....&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="19" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I don't like chocolate. I'm still female. I don't like chulent.      I'm still Jewish.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="20" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I love road trips. I drove with 3 friends from NY to Atlanta to      Disney World (trip #12 to the park in FL and #15 overall to a Disney park)      and then back to NY in one weekend. Best trip ever!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="21" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I eat round foods around the circumference first.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t know why.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Watch next time I eat a bagel or a      hamburger.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You’ll see.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="22" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I name inanimate things. My GPS is Jasmine and my car that my dad      lets me "borrow" is Chewbacca. The Xerox machine at work is      Phoebe.  The Xerox tech guy is named Reuben.  Ok...Reuben is a      real person....&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="23" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;My favorite TV show is Friends. I quote it all the time. I have      all 10 seasons on DVD. If I were a Friends character, I think I'd be      Chandler. I use humor a lot as a protection. and he's so funny. sadly, I      do not have good writers helping out with life.  I end up sounding      more like Fozzie Bear.  Wocka Wocka!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="24" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I'm from Monsey, NY. Most ppl think Monsey is upstate. It is the      most NOT upstate you could be. If you look at a &lt;a href="http://www.gpins.net/map/map.html"&gt;map of NY&lt;/a&gt;, Monsey is in      Rockland County and Rockland County is actually the 2nd southern most      county in NY State outside of NY City. (The southern most is      Westchester).  So no, I am not from upstate. I guess I'm from      "downstate"....?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="25" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I work for an organization called Heart Mind &amp;amp; Soul (&lt;a href="http://www.heartmindandsoul.org/" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.heartmindandsoul.org/&lt;/a&gt;).      The mission of Heart, Mind &amp;amp; Soul is to make a positive difference in      the lives of Jewish teenagers and young adults. Through interactive and      engaging programs that build safety, promote introspection, and teach valuable      intrapersonal and interpersonal skills, Heart, Mind &amp;amp; Soul seeks to      raise the self-esteem and motivation of our youth, increase hope, and      encourage them to develop a greater willingness to accept personal and      communal responsibility in a fun, supportive, and safe Torah      enviroment.  For more info on HMS, please go to the website or ask me      anything.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol start="26" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;26 is the &lt;i&gt;Gimatria&lt;/i&gt; of &lt;i&gt;Hashem's &lt;/i&gt;name and I felt like      ending on that note b/c I went Shana Bet.  (&lt;i&gt;v'hameivin yavin&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2876515084561379437?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2876515084561379437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2876515084561379437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2876515084561379437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2876515084561379437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-things-about-me.html' title='25 things about me'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-3025230722328020977</id><published>2008-10-18T20:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T21:23:33.832-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Idea....Bad Idea...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;In my state of denial that summer is over, I decided that it's still ok to wear flip-flops outside, eventhough it's the middle of October and it's like 50 degrees outside.  But I'm not giving in!  I miss the summer and I love my flip-flops.  And also, it's takes so much longer to put on tights and shoes so when I wake up 5 minutes before I need to sprint out of my apartment to make my bus to get to work relatively on time.  Flip-flops are just so much easier to just throw on.  So I'm still wearing flip-flops.  And of course my feet are always freezing outside.&lt;br /&gt;One day, I was leaving work and I was walking - in my flip-flops - along a subway grate and I felt very warm air coming from the subway and I thought "Omg, my feet are warm!  This isn't so ridiculous that I'm wearing flip-flops in 50 degrees b/c I can just walk on subway grates and be fine".  So the next day, I got dressed, put on my flip-flops and went to work with my brilliant new idea.  I started walking on the subway grate and a train went by and sent such a big updraft of warm air.  My feet were toasty warm.  "Excellent," I thought.  What I did not realize is that when you walk on a subway grate with the updraft of warm air, if you are wearing a flairy skirt, everyone around you will get a good show.  Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-3025230722328020977?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/3025230722328020977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=3025230722328020977&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3025230722328020977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3025230722328020977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/10/good-ideabad-idea.html' title='Good Idea....Bad Idea...'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5289726967041971425</id><published>2008-09-21T22:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T22:14:43.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #921</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If a fly lands on you, you should not swat it.  You'll probably miss the fly, but you won't miss yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5289726967041971425?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5289726967041971425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5289726967041971425&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5289726967041971425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5289726967041971425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/09/survival-tip-921.html' title='Survival Tip #921'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2364053300272888169</id><published>2008-08-21T12:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T12:55:10.078-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Hold.....Forever.....hahahahaha</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;We've all been put on hold. You sit on hold waiting and waiting and you have no idea why.  I just called somewhere and I got put on hold and then you know how you hear the recording saying "Your call is very important...Please hold for some idiot to get off his lazy butt and answer your call."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;One would think &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;if my call were really that important, they would never put me on hold in the first place!  Would you put the President on hold?  I don't think so.  Maybe I'll just try saying I'm the President's daughter.  My dad could be president of something.  I'll show them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2364053300272888169?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2364053300272888169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2364053300272888169&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2364053300272888169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2364053300272888169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/08/please-holdforeverhahahahaha.html' title='Please Hold.....Forever.....hahahahaha'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5659505532631614742</id><published>2008-08-12T12:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T12:25:31.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #812</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;If you put your cup under one of many spigots in the water cooler, and you then choose a different spigot, don't expect the cup to move for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5659505532631614742?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5659505532631614742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5659505532631614742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5659505532631614742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5659505532631614742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/08/survival-tip-812.html' title='Survival Tip #812'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1431640335329983232</id><published>2008-08-01T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T12:53:05.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy my birthday to you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I wanted to have like this profound entry on my blog for my birthday and I thought and thought about what I would write and I had many random thoughts....and of course no time to jot them down.  Or I thought of them at a time when I couldn't write - like on shabbat...rabbis frown on that....or in the shower.  Paper does not do well in the shower.  So here are my thoughts in short, as it is friday and I still haven't cooked for shabbat and I really wanted to get this posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was thinking about my ??th birthday and I was kinda sad about all the stuff I haven't accomplished yet and all that life sorta stuff and I got all sad and that's not appropriate for a birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got an email from Facebook that someone wrote on my wall and apparently Facebook can't keep up b/c I only got one email when really a lot of ppl wrote on my wall.  In fact so many ppl wrote on my wall, that some ppl's posts from like a minute ago are already not on my wall b/c they are under "see older posts".  So that made me feel better.  A lot.  And then of course my roommates gave me a heart attack when they banged on my door at 1am and burst into my room to sing Happy Birthday.   It was really funny.  (Thanx guys!  I love you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm thinking how lucky I am to have so many loving family and friends and all the good times we've had and who cares about what I didn't do.  I'm looking at what I did do and what I have now and I feel very blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to all my friends and family - altho I don't think anyone in my family even knows I have a blog....whatever.....to all my friends and anyone else reading this, you have all touched my life in some way or another, some more than others - like the random person reading this b/c it came up in a google search, you probably didn't really touch my life all that much, but you are reading this so thank you for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all my family and friends, you have made my life so rich and fun and full of excitement and full of love.  I have never felt that as much as I have in the past few years.  Thank you so much for contributing to that.  I hope you all feel as blessed and as loved as I do.  I'm looking forward to having more fun and excitement and sharing more love with all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you all &lt;3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1431640335329983232?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1431640335329983232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1431640335329983232&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1431640335329983232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1431640335329983232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-my-birthday-to-you.html' title='Happy my birthday to you'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-230483042592441976</id><published>2008-07-20T20:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T20:37:11.689-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Green Eggs and Chulent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Did you hear?  Did you hear?&lt;br /&gt;The next kiddush is drawing near.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you see?  Can it be?&lt;br /&gt;Someone planted a cholent tree!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Someone planted a tree so neat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;div&gt; For the next kiddush for us to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cholent, you know, is not free.&lt;br /&gt;Cholent does cost some money.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you sponsor our cholent tree?&lt;br /&gt;Will you sponsor, Sam-You-Be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor your cholent tree.&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor, Sam-I-Be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;But you could sponsor with a knife.&lt;br /&gt;Or you could sponsor for your wife.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would not, could not with a knife.&lt;br /&gt;I would not, could not for my wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor your cholent tree.&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor, Sam-I-Be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;You could sponsor for your birthday,&lt;br /&gt;Or for any special day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you sponsor our cholent tree?&lt;br /&gt;Will you sponsor, Sam-You-Be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I would not, could not for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;I would not, could not for any day!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor your cholent tree.&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor, Sam-I-Be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Would you sponsor for your friend?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe to make this poem end?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you sponsor our cholent tree?&lt;br /&gt;Will you sponsor, Sam-You-Be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I would not, could not with a knife.&lt;br /&gt;I would not, could not for my wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I will not sponsor for a friend,&lt;br /&gt;although I do want this poem to end!&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor for my birthday&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor, now go away!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not sponsor your cholent tree!&lt;br /&gt;   I will not sponsor, Sam-I-Be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Sam-You-Be, Oh Sam, you see&lt;br /&gt;the kiddush costs a lot of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we don't raise enough money,&lt;br /&gt;then the kiddush can not be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh won't you sponsor our cholent tree?&lt;br /&gt;Oh won't you sponsor it, Sam-You-Be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;You could, you should be a sponsor&lt;br /&gt;in your very very own honor&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won't you sponsor our cholent tree?&lt;br /&gt;Oh won't you sponsor, Sam-You-Be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Hmmmm......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; That is a great idea I see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;to sponsor in honor of li'l ol' me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Of course I'll sponsor your cholent tree!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Of course I'll sponsor, Sam-I-Be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh thank you, thank you Sam-You-Be!&lt;br /&gt;for generously sponsoring the cholent tree&lt;br /&gt;You'll fill the shul with so much glee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the end of our story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you're like Sam, or if you're not,&lt;br /&gt; You could sponsor the whole lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or you could sponsor part of the food&lt;br /&gt;However much you're in the mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this kiddush will be hot :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Special for this Mevarchim Shabbat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But we all know cholent doesn't really grow on trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;and that is why we are asking you for money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So just go to the website and click away (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.mtsinaishul.com/" target="_blank"&gt;www.mtsinaishul.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;    So you can be the next sponsor Today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(Also if you could reply to me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(Very helpful, that would be)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And in advance, thanx a lot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;We look forward to eating cholent with you this Shabbat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-230483042592441976?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/230483042592441976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=230483042592441976&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/230483042592441976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/230483042592441976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/07/green-eggs-and-chulent.html' title='Green Eggs and Chulent'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5767060234856751895</id><published>2008-07-10T15:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T15:48:16.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Parts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If there are no small parts, only small actors, then shouldn't toy boxes say "This toy contains small actors.  Not intended for children under 3 years old" ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5767060234856751895?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5767060234856751895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5767060234856751895&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5767060234856751895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5767060234856751895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/07/small-parts.html' title='Small Parts'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-7959206773991020417</id><published>2008-07-03T16:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T16:37:01.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Even God needs a vacation sometimes....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;In honor of July 4th, and also I haven't posted in a while, I will share with you an interesting call I get sometimes around the legal holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Hello synagogue office, How may I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;Caller: "is this the synagogue?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "yes it is.  How may I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;C: Are you going to be having regular Shabbat services on July 4th weekend?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "yes we are.  Every shabbat, regular services"&lt;br /&gt;C: "Oh well I was just wondering b/c it's a holiday weekend and all..."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yes....well God doesn't take a vacation.  so yes, regular services"&lt;br /&gt;C: "ok great.  Thank you."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "you're welcome"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 4th!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-7959206773991020417?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/7959206773991020417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=7959206773991020417&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7959206773991020417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7959206773991020417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/07/even-god-needs-vacation-sometimes.html' title='Even God needs a vacation sometimes....'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1340677209554312910</id><published>2008-06-11T12:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T12:46:42.865-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kinkos always gives me a good laugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I went to kinkos today, as I always do, for my 1/2 hour trip to enlarge some flyer.  I went straight to my enlarging machine and enlarged my flyer.  That usually takes about 5 minutes.  Then I went to try and pay.  That usually takes the other 25 minutes.  So I got to the counter and I was told in the past to alert them that I will be paying with my company's Kinkos credit card b/c apparently, at kinkos, you have to give the credit card before anyone actually rings up anything.  ok.  I don't get it and I probably never will.....like why major companies with bajillions of dollars only use one-ply toilet paper.  It's one of the mysteries of the world.  But that's for another time.  Back to Kinkos.... I finally got to the front of some formation of a line - which they never have - and I got to pay.  I immediately handed the guy my company's Kinkos credit card b/c I was told that's what you have to do.  His response was "yep....I think you can pay with that...."  !!!  Of course I can pay with it.  I've been using it all along!  Meantime, he didn't take the card and do anything with it before he rang up my enlargement.  Then, after he rang me up, he tried to swipe the card and of course it didn't work.  He kept trying and trying.  Nuthin!  Then he asked a co-worker.  He couldn't figure it out either.  The guy finally said to me "I can't figure this out and my friend can't figure this out, sooo..... have a nice day!"  So I did! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1340677209554312910?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1340677209554312910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1340677209554312910&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1340677209554312910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1340677209554312910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/06/kinkos-always-gives-me-good-laugh.html' title='Kinkos always gives me a good laugh'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-4908917267187274191</id><published>2008-05-30T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T13:31:09.645-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #530</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Don't rest a vacuum on a counter in order to reach the ceiling with it.  You may end up vacuuming more than the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-4908917267187274191?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/4908917267187274191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=4908917267187274191&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4908917267187274191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4908917267187274191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/05/survival-tip-530.html' title='Survival Tip #530'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1211234716519778645</id><published>2008-05-19T09:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T09:40:48.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What is actually wrong with this picture?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;This is in addition to my last post.&lt;br /&gt;I went to Queens yesterday with my parents to visit my yummy deliciousness - that's swahili for my niece and nephew.  I got in the car and my dad says "where's my money?" b/c he always asks me to pay for things as a joke.  So "I said I don't have any money for you.  But I do have a water gun..."  and my dad's response was "that doesn't help me.  I want my money!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMFG!!!  Has it become completely normal to carry a water gun?!  Did I wake up one day in some alternate universe?  Why when I tell ppl I have a water gun do they not ask why I'm carrying it?  What is going on here?  I wonder what else I could get away with....hmm......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1211234716519778645?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1211234716519778645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1211234716519778645&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1211234716519778645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1211234716519778645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-is-actually-wrong-with-this.html' title='What is actually wrong with this picture?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-7637058901093493369</id><published>2008-05-13T13:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T13:55:51.181-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What is wrong with this picture?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Last night, as I always do, I made sure my bag and everything I need for work were in their spot so that I don't have to think in the morning and I can just grab and run and not have to worry that I forgot something.  If I have to think in the morning, it's never a good situation.  One time, I thought too much, that I ended up at work an hour early.  Uncool. &lt;br /&gt;So I lay all my stuff out the night before to prevent any thinking disasters.  I grabbed all my stuff, and got to work only to find that my water gun had leaked all over the inside of my bag - despite the fact that it was in a zip-lock - who claim that yellow and blue make green and that's how you know it's sealed.  well yellow and blue did not make green this morning,  my friends, because much of the contents of my bag were very wet.  So I took them all out to dry, spreading a lot of the wet papers out by the window - thank God there is sun today.  So I had stuff all over my desk and my copies of my tax forms were lying out for all to see.  And I was pretty upset. &lt;br /&gt;Many people walked by my desk and asked why I was upset, or why my desk was so cluttered, or more importantly, why my tax form copies were lying out.  (why they are still in my bag is a way better question to which I can only say that I totally forgot they were in there).  I simply answered the truth.  My water gun leaked all over my bag and everything got wet so I need it all to dry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each person responded something like "oh...ok....I hope they dry soon...be careful with the tax forms...."  and walked away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong with this picture?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-7637058901093493369?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/7637058901093493369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=7637058901093493369&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7637058901093493369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7637058901093493369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-is-wrong-with-this-picture.html' title='What is wrong with this picture?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-7126023693120964172</id><published>2008-05-05T01:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T01:19:09.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have the plague!*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I was home for Pesach playing with my yummy yummy niece when she noticed a scrape on my foot.  She asked me "why you have a boo-boo?"  So I told her it's b/c I was scratching.  She asked me "why you scratching?"  I told her b/c I was itchy.  She said "oooh.  b/c you have כינים."*&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I don't really have any plagues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-7126023693120964172?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/7126023693120964172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=7126023693120964172&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7126023693120964172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7126023693120964172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-have-plague.html' title='I have the plague!*'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1687827196171326601</id><published>2008-04-22T03:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T03:53:54.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #422</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;When you cook in a pan, it gets the pan really hot. If you then touch it to a plastic plate, you won't have anymore plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1687827196171326601?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1687827196171326601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1687827196171326601&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1687827196171326601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1687827196171326601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/04/survival-tip-422.html' title='Survival Tip #422'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-6071075745486651239</id><published>2008-04-08T17:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T16:26:13.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #408</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Long hair does not get along well with toothpaste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-6071075745486651239?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/6071075745486651239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=6071075745486651239&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6071075745486651239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6071075745486651239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/04/survival-tip-414.html' title='Survival Tip #408'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8430751995829054961</id><published>2008-03-27T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T12:03:12.331-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Only the best processed crap!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" id="1gpt"&gt;I went to a Dr this morning for a check-up.  One of the things she asked me was where I get most of my dairy intake from.  so I said cheese - mostly mac &amp;amp; cheese...yummmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" id="1gr9" class="h8iICe"&gt;She started saying something about the powdered stuff...it's bad...etc... So I said "Oh no no.  I don't eat that processed crap.  I eat American cheese"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8430751995829054961?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8430751995829054961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8430751995829054961&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8430751995829054961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8430751995829054961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/03/only-best-processed-crap.html' title='Only the best processed crap!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2919418788515405352</id><published>2008-03-25T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T15:29:50.832-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't leave me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I just had a conversation with a friend and she decided she had to go.  I tried to convince her not to, but to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friend:&lt;/span&gt;  I need to take a shower.  I'll be back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  I need to take an ax to someone's head.  What's your point?  I'm not doing mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Alas, she left me.  I thought I had a pretty convincing argument.  I guess not.  Oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2919418788515405352?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2919418788515405352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2919418788515405352&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2919418788515405352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2919418788515405352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/03/dont-leave-me.html' title='Don&apos;t leave me'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-737301053098130502</id><published>2008-03-24T13:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T13:15:55.519-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Purim Princess Bride</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: left; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;3 years ago, I had a theme for my costume and my mishloach manot. It was the Princess Bride. I was the 6-fingered man and my friend was Inigo Montoya. For the Mishloach Manot, I "re-wrote" the story of the Princess Bride to fit in with the Purim story. Then, at the end, I explained each food item in the Mishloach Manot - which were all straight from the story. It was awesome! So here it is. (It's a little long....but totally worth it.) Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Huge Disclaimer: Because this is on a blog that really anyone can read, I'm a little nervous about being sued. So I want to say that most of this story might sound like direct quotes from the movie, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093779/"&gt;The Princess Bride&lt;/a&gt;, the most awesomest movie ever - unlike Napolean Dynamite - the worst movie ever, "Yehuda"! Anyways, if you think that some of my words sound like direct quotes from &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093779/"&gt;The Princess Bride&lt;/a&gt;, that's because they are. If you hadn't figured that out, then either you did not see the movie - please come over right now and watch it with me! - or you are not paying attention - so WAKE UP AND SMELL THE IOCANE! (That didn't even make sense because, as we all know, Iocane powder &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadly poisons known to man.) I think that's good enough. Go....Have fun reading the story......think it'll be funny......it'll take a miracle!&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;The Real Story of Purim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;So you thought you knew the story of Purim, eh?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well guess again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That Megillah you heard today was just the story they want you to hear.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We are offering you the real story.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But you can’t tell anyone……it’s a secret….shshshshshsh…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The Princess Bride, by S. Morgenstern, with a little help from Arona.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Chapter One.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buttercup (who’s real name was Esther, but she didn’t want anyone to know she was from the Megillah) was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin. Her favorite pastimes were learning Toyrah and tormenting the farm boy that worked there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His name was MordeWestley, but she never called him that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She called him Farm Boy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  For example, she might say something like "Farm Boy, fetch me that pitcher."  &lt;/span&gt;“As you wish” was all he ever said to her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That day she was amazed to discover that when he was saying 'As you wish', what he meant was, “I love you.” And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Meanwhile, King Humperveirosh decided he needed a new wife and set his sights on Princess (Esther) Buttercup.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However, he soon learned that she was in love with MordeWestley and he would have to eliminate MordeWestley in order to get to the princess.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So he hired Count HamanRugen – he’s Swedish – to “eliminate” MordeWestley.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Count HamanRugen sent out 3 to bring the princess to the castle knowing that MordeWestley would come to rescue her and then he would be able to “eliminate” MordeWestley.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The 3 brilliant men he sent out were Vizzini Bigtan, Inigo Monteresh, and CharFezzik.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They each could only speak one phrase of English.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Vizzini could only say “inconceivable!” but he didn’t really know what it means.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Inigo Monteresh could only say “Hello. My name is Inigo Monteresh. You killed my father. Prepare to die."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Charfezzik knew more of the language and was especially good at rhyming.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Just as intended, the 3 captured the princess and MordeWestley went after her to rescue her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They were able to successfully bring the princess to King Humperveirosh but MordeWestley eventually caught up with them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;MordeWestley was able to kill Vizzini Bigtan very quickly and painlessly using Iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadly poisons known to man.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After MordeWestley “eliminated” Vizzini Bigtan, Inigo Monteresh and CharFezzik decided to help him rescue the princess.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;CharFezzik told MordeWestley all about King Humperveirosh’s and Count HamanRugen’s plans to kill him and dump him in the Pit of Despair which one could get to via a tree that was about 50 Amot tall.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Inigo Monteresh just kept repeating that one line……which literally almost killed MordeWestley.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He passed out from annoyance and would not wake up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They needed a Miracle!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Inigo Monteresh and CharFezzik brought MordeWestley to Miracle Max and Valerie who said they could revive MordeWestley because he was only mostly dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Now, mostly dead is slightly alive. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Now, all dead...well, with all dead, there's usually only one thing you can do….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;color:black;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Go through his clothes and look for loose change.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Miracle Max gave them a miracle pill.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The chocolate coating makes it go down easier, but you have to wait fifteen minutes for full potency, and he shouldn't go in swimming after for at least--An hour--Yeah, an hour--A good hour.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;When MordeWestley awoke, Inigo Monteresh had to quickly learn more than just the one phrase so as not to almost kill MordeWestley again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So he did.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He said a mouthful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He explained the situation to MordeWestley – explain, no, there is too much. He summed up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Buttercup is to marry CHumperveirosh in a little less than chalf an hour, so all we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the princess, make our escape, after I kill Count CHamanRugen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The 3 of them were successful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They recaptured the princess!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But in order to make their escape, they had to go through the Fire Swamp where they found many interesting things such as Fruits Of Unusual Sizes (FOUS’s) and the flame spurt, which is no problem because there's a popping sound preceding each.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;MordeWestley and Princess Buttercup escaped and were able to get married.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They hired a very Impressive Clergyman to be Mesader Kiddushin and of course Inigo Monteresh and CharFezzik were Eidei – well everything….&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Mesader Kiddushin began his speech – “Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us togethew today.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mawwage, that bwessed awwangement, that dweam wifin a dweam……” but no one likes speeches under the chupah…..&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Harei At”&lt;/i&gt;….Say &lt;i&gt;“Harei At”&lt;/i&gt;…..said Princess (Esther) Buttercup, in order to move the wedding along.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Impressive Clergy then asked MordeWestley, “Have you da wing?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And he did.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eventually, the wedding ended and Princess Buttercup and MordeWestley were married and since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This one left them all behind.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;~ The End ~&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And now I bid you all a farewell.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I do not envy you the headache you will have when you sober up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But, in the meantime, rest well, and dream of large women.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;!!!Happy Purim!!! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Enjoy our treats straight from the story!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;ul  style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" type="square"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Popcorn -      There's a popping sound preceding each kernel&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Iocane Powder – or crystal light drink mix - It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadly poisons known to man.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But don’t worry because we      spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But that might not help you……&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Some Pits of      Despair – found mostly in apples&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;FOUS’s –      Fruits Of Unusual Sizes – such as giant clementines or small grapefruits&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Kisses - since the invention of the kiss by Hershey’s, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This one left them all behind – mostly      because it’s chocolate!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Fig Newtons      – having nothing to do with the story, we just wanted a mezonot for our      mishloach manot.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-737301053098130502?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/737301053098130502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=737301053098130502&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/737301053098130502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/737301053098130502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/03/purim-princess-bride.html' title='The Purim Princess Bride'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1189713096075838819</id><published>2008-03-18T12:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T01:59:08.013-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Falafel Strike</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;I hate Pitas.  You might be wondering how could anyone hate Pitas.  They are so yummy, they have a nice pocket you can fill with basically anything.  You're right.  I love &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;those&lt;/span&gt; pitas.  I hate the other kind of PITAs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="1i3d"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;PITA = Pain In The A...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Butt  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;(I have to keep this G-rated, ya know....for all the younger reader).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Some people have been driving me crazy lately.  They are now referred to as PITA's.  This is my new favorite phrase and I will use it forever as it is so perfectly fabulous. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;So to whomever taught this to me, whom I can't remember, thank you so much.  I love this new phrase.  And to whomever is a PITA, I don't like you.....a lot....  Stop being such a PITA!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1189713096075838819?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1189713096075838819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1189713096075838819&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1189713096075838819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1189713096075838819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/03/great-falafel-strike.html' title='The Great Falafel Strike'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-3284391503412263923</id><published>2008-03-13T16:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T01:59:33.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you calling me fat?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;My friends and I have this running joke.  Whenever someone says anything about your appearance, the proper female response is "Are you calling me fat?"  For example, if someone says something like "Oh, your skirt matches your eyes", you would say "Are you calling me fat?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;One day at work, I got the munchies and I raided the kiddush closet to see what was leftover from the Shabbat Kiddush.  I needed one of the maintenance men to get the key for me.  When he saw how much food I was taking - I was just shopping in bulk so I wouldn't have to bother him again - so when he saw how much food I was taking, he said "oooh Arooona....what...????"  I said back " Well, I have to fatten myself up".  He said back to me, "awww....no you don't...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Are you calling me fat?????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-3284391503412263923?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/3284391503412263923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=3284391503412263923&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3284391503412263923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3284391503412263923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/03/are-you-calling-me-fat.html' title='Are you calling me fat?!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1150849188876187743</id><published>2008-03-12T09:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T09:27:58.844-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Israel must be pretty holy if it's that close to Hashem!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I was recently asked about an early memory I had and how I felt at that time.  The only thing I could come up with is this:  When I was in a playgroup, I guess I was about 3 or 4 or something, one of my teachers told us she's going off to Israel.  I remember thinking I know you take a plane to get to Israel, and I know planes go up.  But I didn't know planes also come down at the end.  So I thought Israel must be located in the sky.  That makes so much sense because it's so holy and it's closer to Hashem.  That made all the sense in the world to me.&lt;br /&gt;Then they ask you how you felt at the time of the memory.  My friend was trying to overthink it and she suggested I have issues with abandonment because my teacher was leaving, and not coming back down...etc.  Honestly, I dunno how I felt then, but now, thinking back, it's the funniest thing to me.  How cute was I?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1150849188876187743?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1150849188876187743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1150849188876187743&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1150849188876187743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1150849188876187743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2008/03/israel-must-be-pretty-holy-if-its-that.html' title='Israel must be pretty holy if it&apos;s that close to Hashem!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5367534720119354191</id><published>2007-12-16T12:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T13:00:25.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #1216</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If you want to buy waterproof boots, you won't find them in a country that doesn't know what snow is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5367534720119354191?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5367534720119354191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5367534720119354191&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5367534720119354191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5367534720119354191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/12/survival-tip-1216.html' title='Survival Tip #1216'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1158923803163323110</id><published>2007-12-11T09:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T09:43:04.447-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Red Hen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(204, 238, 221); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;p align="center"  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px;  font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;The Little Red Hen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px;  font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.elliottsamazing.com/chicken.wav" autostart="TRUE" hidden="TRUE" hspace="0" vspace="0"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;(A Golden Book, New York) Western Publishing Company, Inc, Racine, WI 53404&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px;  font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;Once there was a Little Red Hen who lived in a barnyard with her three chicks and a duck, a pig and a cat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px;  font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;One day the Little Red Hen found some grains of wheat. "Look look!" she clucked. "Who will help me plant this wheat?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I", quaked the duck, and he waddled away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I", oinked the pig, and he trotted away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I, meowed the cat, and he padded away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Then I will plant it myself," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;When the wheat was tall and golden, the Little Red Hen knew it was ready to be cut. "Who will help me cut the wheat?" she asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the duck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the pig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the cat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Then I will cut this wheat myself". And she did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Now", said the Little Red Hen, "it is time to take the wheat to the miller so he can grind it into flour. Who will help me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the duck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the pig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the cat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Then I will take the wheat to the miller myself," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;The miller ground the wheat into fine white flour and put it into a sack for the Little Red Hen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;When she returned to the barnyard, the Little Red Hen asked, "Who will help me make this flour into dough?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;Not I," said the duck, the pig and the cat all at once.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Then I will make the dough myself," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;When the dough was ready to go into the oven, the Little Red Hen asked, "Who will help me bake the bread?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the duck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the pig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Not I," said the cat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"Then I wll bake it myself," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;Soon the bread was ready. As she took it from the oven, the Little Red Hen asked, "Well who will help me eat this warm, fresh bread?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"I will," said the duck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"I will," said the pig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"I will," said the cat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"No you won't," said the Little Red Hen. "You wouldn't help me plant the seeds, cut the wheat, go to the miller, make the dough or bake the bread. Now, my three chicks and I will eat this bread ourselves!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="georgia" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px;  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;And that's just what they did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1158923803163323110?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1158923803163323110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1158923803163323110&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1158923803163323110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1158923803163323110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/12/little-red-hen.html' title='The Little Red Hen'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-129409970182620400</id><published>2007-12-05T12:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T12:34:40.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip # 1204</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If you are wiping wet hands, and the paper towel gets wet from that, don't continue to use it to wipe your hands.  They will never dry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-129409970182620400?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/129409970182620400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=129409970182620400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/129409970182620400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/129409970182620400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/12/survival-tip-1204.html' title='Survival Tip # 1204'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2780643983723592602</id><published>2007-12-04T13:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T13:46:31.115-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lesson in Gravity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;We all know the famous saying "What goes up must come down".  Well, FYI, everything will eventually fall down without necessarily going up first.  Like if you pour water into a cup, the water is not gonna go up first and then go down.  It's also gonna go right down, no matter where you put the cup.  (no, I did not spill anything!)  Similarly, if your hands are full of water, and then you raise them up, the water will run down your arms as long as your hands are up in the air....because if you're lifting the water on your hands up, it will find a way to get down.  If that involves getting your entire arm wet, that's your problem.  Gravity is just doing it's job. &lt;br /&gt;Now that we've established that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;as long as you lift your arms up, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;water will go down your arms and get you all wet, then why would you put a paper towel dispenser high up enough that you have to raise your arm up to dispense the paper towel, allowing the water to drip all the way down your arm and then you get all wet and then you need more paper towels?! &lt;br /&gt;I get that if you put a pile of paper towels on a counter, and then I go reach for one with my wet hands so then all the paper towels in the pile will get wet because my wet hand just dripped all over them.  So put them in a dispenser lower down on the wall!  Why do I need to always take a shower just to dry my hands?  Can someone please explain this to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2780643983723592602?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2780643983723592602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2780643983723592602&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2780643983723592602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2780643983723592602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/12/lesson-in-gravity.html' title='A Lesson in Gravity'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8438397589757023273</id><published>2007-11-29T13:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T13:49:17.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hab a code id by doze</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I have a cold.  It sucks.  I keep blowing my nose out.  I've been blowing so hard, I feel like my brains are gonna fly out my ears....except that they're clogged.  So I can't breathe, and I can't hear anything.  And yesterday, I started coughing up my lungs.  Fabulous!  I'm losing my lungs in addition to my brain coming out my ears - oh wait....they're clogged....&lt;br /&gt;So today, I didn't like the lunch they had at work, and i haven't ordered out in a really long time, and I was in the mood for hot soup, so I decided to treat myself to ordering out.  I purposely ordered chicken soup - the best cure for a cold.  I was sooo in the mood.  But by the time it got here, it was cold!  Cold soup?!  How does that help me!?  I tried to heat it up by adding really hot water to it, but that just made it watery.  (we don't have a microwave in my office...in case you were wondering....)  The hot water helped a little, so I ate a lot of hot/warm/hot/cold soup which I didn't really enjoy.  So I dind't get to eat my steak lunch, and I'm not satisfied, but I'm full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so now, my stomach is full of bad soup, my nose is full of crap, my ears are clogged full of crap, I didn't enjoy my lunch....ugh....is it Shabbat yet?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8438397589757023273?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8438397589757023273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8438397589757023273&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8438397589757023273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8438397589757023273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-hab-code-id-by-doze.html' title='I hab a code id by doze'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8672707467245885344</id><published>2007-11-26T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T15:05:52.082-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"N" for Mnemonic</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I recently finished teaching a beginners hebrew reading class. The goal of the class is just to get the students to recognize the letters and the sounds they make so that the students can read hebrew. There's no grammar or translating involved. It's just recognizing sounds of letters. I try to use good pneumonics to help the students recognize the differences between the letters that look the same - like the ס is ssssircular and the ם is mmmmore square.... Or the ט has a Tear on Top vs the מ has a Mountain. I was trying to show them the difference between the פ with the dot vs the פ without the dot. The פ &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt; the dot is like a Profile of a Person and the פ &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;without&lt;/span&gt; the dot is like a Face with no Features.  Then a student decided to help and offered that the פ &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;without&lt;/span&gt; the dot has no dot b/c it Farted it out.  My students &amp;amp; I will never Forget the difference between the 2 פ's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8672707467245885344?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8672707467245885344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8672707467245885344&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8672707467245885344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8672707467245885344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/11/n-for-pneumonic.html' title='&quot;N&quot; for Mnemonic'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1488341546849709552</id><published>2007-11-08T23:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T13:47:22.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What do chulent, a hen, and a mountain have to do with eachother?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: left; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;About every month, on Shabbat Mevarchim, my shul makes a kiddush. I am in charge of making sure the kiddush gets set up. It takes many people a lot of time to set it up and it's very hard to find people who are willing to wake up an hour earlier on a shabbat morning to help set up the kiddush. It reminds me of the story of:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p  style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:6;"&gt;The Little Red Hen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;    &lt;/p&gt; &lt;embed style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" src="http://www.elliottsamazing.com/chicken.wav" autostart="TRUE" hidden="TRUE" hspace="0" vspace="0"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;(A Golden Book, New York) Western Publishing Company, Inc, Racine, WI 53404&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;    &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Once there was a Little Red Hen     who lived in a barnyard with her three chicks and a duck, a pig and a cat.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;    One day the Little Red Hen found some grains of wheat. "Look     look!" she clucked. "Who will help me plant this wheat?"&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I", quaked the duck, and he waddled away.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I", oinked the pig, and he trotted away.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I, meowed the cat, and he padded away.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Then I will plant it myself," said the Little Red Hen. And     she did.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt; When the wheat was tall and golden, the Little Red Hen knew it was ready to be cut. "Who will help me cut the wheat?" she asked.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the duck.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the pig.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the cat&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Then I will cut this wheat myself". And she did.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt; "Now", said the Little Red Hen, "it is time to take the wheat to the miller so he can grind it into flour. Who will help me?"&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the duck.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the pig.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p face="georgia" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;    "Not I," said the cat.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p face="georgia" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;    "Then I will take the wheat to the miller myself," said the     Little Red Hen. And she did.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    The miller ground the wheat into fine white flour and put it into a     sack for the Little Red Hen.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    When she returned to the barnyard, the Little Red Hen asked, "Who     will help me make this flour into dough?"&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    Not I," said the duck, the pig and the cat all     at once.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Then I will make the dough myself," said the Little Red     Hen. And she did.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    When the dough was ready to go into the oven, the Little Red Hen     asked, "Who will help me bake the bread?"&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the duck.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the pig.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Not I," said the cat.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "Then I wll bake it myself," said the Little Red Hen. And     she did.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt; Soon the bread was ready. As she took it from the oven, the Little Red Hen asked, "Well who will help me eat this warm, fresh bread?"&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "I will," said the duck.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;    "I will," said the pig.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p face="georgia" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;    "I will," said the cat.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p face="georgia" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; "No you won't," said the Little Red Hen. "You wouldn't help me plant the seeds, cut the wheat, go to the miller, make the dough or bake the bread. Now, my three chicks and I will eat this bread ourselves!"&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;And that's just what they did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;I think if I told the 500 or so people in my shul that they can't eat at the kiddush, I might have to go into the Witness Protection Program. So I will not be trying that any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;I do appreciate all the help I do get.  Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Enjoy the chulent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" face="georgia"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Chodesh Tov!  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1488341546849709552?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1488341546849709552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1488341546849709552&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1488341546849709552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1488341546849709552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-do-chulent-hen-and-mountain-have.html' title='What do chulent, a hen, and a mountain have to do with eachother?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5324681132680258010</id><published>2007-10-15T15:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T12:58:26.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If you think @ should be spelled out "A-T", you shoudl not be allowed to operate a computer!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I got a call the other day from someone.  He called to ask me what his own email address was.  You think you read that wrong?  Well I thought I heard him wrong.  I chalked it up to the fact that I get a lot of....umm.....odd phone calls.  I started to tell him his email and he said I should talk slower and louder.  I started again - "M as in Mary, A as in Apple...."  He then stopped me in the middle to put his "girl" on the phone.  She is not American.  This is gonna be a challenge.  I started again...."M as in Mary, A as in Apple...."  The last letter before the @ is an E.  Of course I blanked on an E word and every word that came to me sounded like something else that could be confusing.  I wanted a word that could not be mistaken for any other word.  Elephant!  So I said "E as in Elephant"  Well that didn't work because apparently there are no elephants where this woman is from and she didn't know what I'm talking about.  I thought OK she didn't hear me - b/c who doesn't know what an elephant is?!  So I said again, slower and clearer "EEE  as in EEELLLEEEPHAAANNNTTT"  The response?  She said "Manuel?"  huh?!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I said again, " noooo.....EEE  as in EEELLLEEEPHAAANNNTTT"  She said &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Manuel?"  I finally got it.  She doesn't know what an elephant is.  She was trying to say "E as in Emanuel".  I said "yes yes Emanuel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh it gets sooo much better.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished spelling out the first half of the email address and I got to the @ symbol.  After I was done with the E, I said "@" - pronounced a-t but spelled @.  She says to me "A-T?"  I was like "What??  Nooooo  "AT" ".  She says "A-T?"  I said "no no no.  "AT" - it's the symbol that looks like an A with a circle around it....AT"  She said OK but I don't think she really got it.  I finally got passed the @, I spelled out the next part - "A like apple, O like Oliver, L like Lemon"....so far so good.  Then, I get to the dot - as in dot com.  After what happened with the @, I didn't know what to say to explain the dot.  I said &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"A like apple, O like Oliver, L like Lemon....dot - like the period - don't spell dot - it's just a period"  and then I spelled out "C like Cookie, O like Oliver, M like Mary".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think this would be the end.  But no.  There's more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally finished smacking my head against the wall spelling the email address to this non-American woman, when she put the guy back on the phone and he wanted me to spell everything out for him.  Here we go again...."M like Mary, A like Apple.....E like Elephant.....AT - it's a symbol that looks like an A with a circle around it....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;A like apple, O like Oliver, L like Lemon....dot - like the period - don't spell dot - it's just a period..."  Then the guy asked me "do you have to spell out "Com"?"  I almost fell off my chair.  No, don't spell it out.  Good luck with that!  On the other hand, the @ symbol was new to him.  Maybe he thought there was a symbol for "com"  I calmly said "Yes, you must spell out "com" - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;C like Cookie, O like Oliver, M like Mary".  He said thank you and good bye and I hung up - and shot myself in the foot.  I was right.  The shot in the foot was not as painful as this phone call. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I testify to the fact that this story is all true and I did not make up any part of it.  How sad is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5324681132680258010?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5324681132680258010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5324681132680258010&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5324681132680258010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5324681132680258010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/10/if-you-think-should-be-spelled-out-t.html' title='If you think @ should be spelled out &quot;A-T&quot;, you shoudl not be allowed to operate a computer!!!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-910805199283630921</id><published>2007-09-30T16:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T00:28:35.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'>cutest kids in the world!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JX9Hma4K9Ik/RwAIs8y_M8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/LXpzP0wDPJk/s1600-h/bat+tzion+and+moshe+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JX9Hma4K9Ik/RwAIs8y_M8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/LXpzP0wDPJk/s320/bat+tzion+and+moshe+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116098745020134338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Soooooo yummy! That's my niece Bat-Tzion on the left and my nephew Moshe on the right. She's 3 1/2 and he's 1 1/2. And she's trying to steal my camera.&lt;br /&gt;They are definitely the cutest kids ever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-910805199283630921?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/910805199283630921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=910805199283630921&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/910805199283630921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/910805199283630921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2005/09/me-and-my-boy-friend.html' title='cutest kids in the world!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JX9Hma4K9Ik/RwAIs8y_M8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/LXpzP0wDPJk/s72-c/bat+tzion+and+moshe+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-6178732045100439897</id><published>2007-09-18T20:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T20:58:55.283-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Return of The MisFortune Cookies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I really think I should publish a book of all the bad bad bad fortunes I get from fortune cookies.  Today, I had 3 fortune cookies.  Here's how my future looks:&lt;br /&gt;1. "Do you feel like you're walking in mud?  Take your time today." - Ok....Weird, but not mean.&lt;br /&gt;2. "It's not the end yet.  Let's stay with it" - Also ok.  Kinda helpful, not so mean.&lt;br /&gt;This last one is the best.  I almost peed in my pants:&lt;br /&gt;3. "It's over your head now.  Time to get some professional help."  - yeah....ok....I have no words.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-6178732045100439897?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/6178732045100439897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=6178732045100439897&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6178732045100439897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6178732045100439897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/09/return-of-misfortune-cookies.html' title='Return of The MisFortune Cookies'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1009770277206771102</id><published>2007-09-05T21:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T21:31:24.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mis-Fortune Cookie Strikes Again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Whenever I order chinese food, I enjoy reading the fortune cookies.  I never actually eat the cookies, but they're there so I read the fortunes...and then I want to kill myself.  I usually get something crappy like "The road to life that you're on, you made a wrong turn".&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I got chinese food from work.  Since I'm not really gonna eat the cookie, it's a waste for me to actively take a fortune cookie.  But I was curious.  So I took one.  I opeend it tonite.  It says: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Your loyalty is a virtue, but when it's wedded to blind stubbornness...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; It actually ended with the .... &lt;br /&gt;And also, WTF?!?  What the hello kind of "fortune" is that?!?  I hear the chinese laughing at me.  It sounds something like "hahahaha....Stupid American....she eat cookie....and she think she get  advice....hahahahah....joke on her!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1009770277206771102?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1009770277206771102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1009770277206771102&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1009770277206771102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1009770277206771102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/09/mis-fortune-cookie-strikes-again.html' title='The Mis-Fortune Cookie Strikes Again!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115686170423674576</id><published>2007-07-26T12:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T12:10:01.548-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm finally out of the closet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" chatdir="2" &gt;I once overheard 2 classmates complaining aout the meanings of their Hebrew names. One was Esther, which means hidden, and the other was Ze'ev, which means wolf. They were each trying to one-up eachother until I chimed in and said "well my name means "closet" so shut up!"&lt;br /&gt;For 28 years, I've been telling people that my name means "closet", or more correctly, "female closet".  Isn't that what &lt;a href="http://milon.morfix.co.il/default.aspx?q=%E0%F8%E5%F0%E4"&gt;ארון&lt;/a&gt; means?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" chatdir="2" &gt;Everyone always tells me I have such a beautiful unique name, but I always hated it. It frickin means "closet"! I also hated it because you can never find it on a keychain or a mug or necklace. Even Jewish stores have אהרונה, or something so close to my name, but not exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" chatdir="2" &gt;I try to have fun with it. Whenever people ask me where my name comes from, I try to make something up. My favorite is I tell them my parents met in a coatroom and they decided to name me closet. (Really, they met at a singles shabbaton and I was named after my zeidy,&lt;br /&gt;משה אהרון =&gt; ארונה מיכל - and the 2 are totally unrelated). Then there were all my friends who tried to have fun with my name. I had one friend who actually called me "Closeta" once and I actually answered. No one else got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, finally, after 28 years of living in a closet, I finally was shown** how awesome my name is. I had the following, very random IM:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" chatdir="1"&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg"&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="5949C3A4C55EAE205"&gt;&lt;b style="margin-left: 3px;"&gt;TCB: &lt;/b&gt;I love how your name means "I will cause gladness"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" chatdir="2"&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b style="margin-left: 3px;"&gt;me: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span chatindex="F01B603CFF583D6A121"&gt;umm....my name means closet.  but I like yours better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="F01B603CFF583D6A122"&gt;omg I love it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="F01B603CFF583D6A123"&gt;I'm totally changing it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="F01B603CFF583D6A124"&gt;thank you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" chatdir="1"&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b style="margin-left: 3px;"&gt;TCB: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span chatindex="5949C3A4C55EAE206"&gt;Your name is better than Rina!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="5949C3A4C55EAE207"&gt;Rinah is just "gladness"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="5949C3A4C55EAE208"&gt;Yours is more active&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="5949C3A4C55EAE209"&gt;more like in j0 face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" chatdir="2"&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b style="margin-left: 3px;"&gt;me: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span chatindex="F01B603CFF583D6A125"&gt;omg I love it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="bz_msg_cont" chatindex="F01B603CFF583D6A126"&gt;that's sooooo much better than "she-closet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now if you ask me what my name means, I will very gladly tell you that my name means "I will cause gladness".  And I really will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** I love you so much TCB!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115686170423674576?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115686170423674576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115686170423674576&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115686170423674576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115686170423674576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/08/happy-not-closet.html' title='I&apos;m finally out of the closet!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-6943856606552929418</id><published>2007-07-20T19:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T19:06:06.548-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That girl is poison</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I learned a very valuable life lesson today. I got an eye infection yesterday - actually a month ago but I was not aware. I went to the eye dr today in the middle of my work day. He explained everything to me and told me very clearly, "you are Not contagious.....but keep your own towels and stuff" So I'm not contagious. Super! I went back to work and they all asked me what happened. I said "well, I had this eye infection but - " and one of my co-workers cut me off and jumped back and said "omg you have pink eye don't touch anything". She never let me get to the part about how Not contagious I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I've had pink eye more times than I can count. I'm so so careful. I never touch my face and I never touch anyone. I've never passed on an eye infection to anyone. I don't even use the same hand for both contact lenses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The lesson from this story is that when you have an eye that's bright pink, don't tell ppl you have an infection. They will not go near you. They won't even sit next to you. They won't even share the same table as you. They won't even share the same city as you! Just tell them you're a drug addict and you had a few too many last nite. Or tell them one of your parents is an albino and you got that one's eyes. It's sooo much easier and it won't result in you being treated like you have leperacy :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-6943856606552929418?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/6943856606552929418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=6943856606552929418&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6943856606552929418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/6943856606552929418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/07/that-girl-is-poison.html' title='That girl is poison'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5944441964548352363</id><published>2007-07-18T15:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T15:52:06.381-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you kidding me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/05/some-people-are-such-idiots.html"&gt;http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/05/some-people-are-such-idiots.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy in that post Friend'd me on Facebook!  I'm still laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5944441964548352363?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5944441964548352363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5944441964548352363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5944441964548352363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5944441964548352363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/07/are-you-kidding-me.html' title='Are you kidding me?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2212183420329726869</id><published>2007-07-12T11:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T11:23:50.137-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #125</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;When you sit, make sure there is something under you to catch you.....unless you meant to sit on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2212183420329726869?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2212183420329726869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2212183420329726869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2212183420329726869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2212183420329726869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/07/survival-tip-125.html' title='Survival Tip #125'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5508477151991263040</id><published>2007-06-29T17:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T05:35:36.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How many __________ does it take to change a lightbulb?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;In case you were wondering how many polish people it takes to change a lightbulb, the correct factual answer is 3. I have the following story to prove it.&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine went on &lt;a href="http://www.motl.org/"&gt;March of the Living&lt;/a&gt; a few years ago as an advisor/counselor/whatever they call it. He said one night in Poland, as he was walking around the "hotel", making sure all the kids were in their rooms, he noticed one room where the light was flashing on and off. He stopped in the room and asked the kids what was going on in there. He saw them flipping the lightswitch up and down, up and down, on and off, on and off. He asked them what the hello they are doing. They told him they were trying to burn out the lightbulb so that they could then call the desk and get someone to come change it and they they could finally know the answer to "How many polish people does it take to change a lightbulb?". Being a responsible advisor, he could not let this go on. But being curious and having a sense of humor, he did, and he stayed to find out the answer. Eventually, they wore out the lightbulb and they called down to the front desk and asked them to send someone up to change the lightbulb. A few minutes later, into their room walked 3 men with a ladder. So there you have it. How many polish people does it take to change a lightbulb? The correct factual proven answer is 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5508477151991263040?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5508477151991263040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5508477151991263040&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5508477151991263040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5508477151991263040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/03/how-many-does-it-take-to-change.html' title='How many __________ does it take to change a lightbulb?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5449028989125294735</id><published>2007-06-27T14:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T14:29:38.461-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Aah....the ironies of life....</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="font-family: georgia;" align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg="" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your Career Type: Artistic&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#cccccc"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/idealcareerquiz/artistic.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are expressive, original, and independent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your talents lie in your artistic abilities: creative writing, drama, crafts,  music, or art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would make an excellent:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actor - Art Teacher - Book Editor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clothes Designer - Comedian - Composer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dancer     - DJ - Graphic Designer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Illustrator - Musician - Sculptor   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst career options for your are conventional careers, like bank teller or secretary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/idealcareerquiz/"&gt;What's Your Ideal Career?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5449028989125294735?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5449028989125294735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5449028989125294735&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5449028989125294735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5449028989125294735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/06/aahthe-ironies-of-life.html' title='Aah....the ironies of life....'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1342852241745096634</id><published>2007-06-15T08:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T08:28:44.222-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Totally 80's</title><content type='html'>&lt;table  align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg="" style="color: rgb(221, 221, 221);" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are 68% A Child of the 80s&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#eeeeee"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/areyouachildofthe80squiz/80s-4.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only did you experience the 80s... you are practically an expert.&lt;br /&gt;You should be totally stoked!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/areyouachildofthe80squiz/"&gt;Are You a Child of an 80s?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1342852241745096634?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1342852241745096634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1342852241745096634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1342852241745096634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1342852241745096634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/06/totally-80s.html' title='Totally 80&apos;s'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2995655868735265136</id><published>2007-05-31T09:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T09:26:31.957-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously?!?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I know I can't tell time.  But I thought I was getting better at it, being more careful when reading my watch, taking a few extra seconds to make sure I was reading it correctly.  Nope.  I can not tell time to save my life.&lt;br /&gt;I was very very late for work the past few days - not b/c I can't tell time.  My alarm clock appears to be broken - i.e. I forgot to set it.  Today, miracle of miracles, I woke up on time.  I was even able to catch the earlier bus.  I'm so proud of myself.  I got on the bus and fell asleep like I always do.  All of a sudden, I heard the bus driver yelling at someone to "use your turn signal....you can't just cut someone off like that.....I can't back up....."  This whole thing took some time and then the bus driver announced that he's behind schedule and I'm thinking "man alive!  I'm late again!  I can't catch a break".  I looked at my watch and I swear it said 9:00 2 stops before my stop.  I stared at my watch intently and I saw the hour hand on the 9 and the minute hand on the 12 and I swear it said 9:00 at 2 stops before I would get off.  I thought of calling my boss and telling him that it's not my fault this time.  Thank God I didn't because I got off the bus, sprinted in to my building, looked at my cell phone and saw that it said 8:50am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2995655868735265136?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2995655868735265136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2995655868735265136&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2995655868735265136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2995655868735265136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/05/seriously.html' title='Seriously?!?!?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8047944876042004388</id><published>2007-05-22T10:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T10:43:26.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No...Really....What time is it?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" chatdir="2"&gt;&lt;span chatindex="D86CCBC8DFC98790110"&gt;I have serious clock reading issues. At first, I thought it was just with analogue clocks, ya know, the kind with the face and the hands. I thought I just had trouble figuring out where the hands are pointing.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I can't read digital clocks either. I thought it was 11:30 when it is really 10:30. Well, I must be right b/c somewhere in the world it's 10:30. So I'm not soo bad off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8047944876042004388?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8047944876042004388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8047944876042004388&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8047944876042004388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8047944876042004388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/05/noreallywhat-time-is-it.html' title='No...Really....What time is it?!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-9177785297643315611</id><published>2007-05-13T10:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T10:56:59.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm addicted to these dumb personality tests</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Your results:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;You are &lt;span style="font-size:6;"&gt;Superman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Superman&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="90"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 90%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;The Flash&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="70"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 70%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Spider-Man&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="65"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 65%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Robin&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="55"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 55%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Supergirl&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="55"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 55%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Wonder Woman&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="50"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 50%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Green Lantern&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="50"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 50%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Catwoman&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 30%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hulk&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 30%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Iron Man&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 30%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Batman&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;hr align="left" size="4" width="25"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; 25%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;You are mild-mannered, good,&lt;br /&gt;strong and you love to help others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.thesuperheroquiz.com/pics/superman.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.thesuperheroquiz.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-9177785297643315611?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/9177785297643315611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=9177785297643315611&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/9177785297643315611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/9177785297643315611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-addicted-to-these-dumb-personality.html' title='I&apos;m addicted to these dumb personality tests'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-8877358911760042601</id><published>2007-05-08T09:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T09:33:39.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What time is it??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Arona can not tell time.  That is why Arona should never wear a watch with a face!  Only digital!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning, I set my radio alarm for somewhere between 6:30 and 7 a.m. depending on the day and if I need to do something in the morning. Every morning I wake up between 7:30 and 7:50 and end up sprinting out the door. Yesterday morning was no different. I woke up to my radio, I looked at my analogue watch and saw that the minute hand was on the number 10.  I naturally assumed it was 7:50, said my usual "oh crap!", ran to the bathroom, threw on clothes, grabbed my jacket, and ran out the door.  I got to the bus stop and the other dude who is usually there was not but there were other people around.  I didn't really think that was weird.  But then I picked up my cell phone to put it on silent and I saw that the time on the display - in big numbers - said 7:04 a.m.  7:04???  That can't be right.  I called my roommate and I asked her what time it is.  She said "it's 7 o'clock.  what's the matter?"  And once again muttered to myself "oh crap!" and got on the bus that of course was right there.  I was an hour early to work yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One would think that I would learn my lesson.  I woke up today, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;again at 10 to 7, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I looked at my watch, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;thinking it was 10 to 8, almost got out of bed and made my usual sprint for the bus.  But I caught myself.  I looked at my digital clock this morning, saw it was only 10 to 7 and rolled over and went back to bed.  Then I woke up at 10 to 8 for real and realized I was about to be late so I ran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the story is Arona needs more sleep....shocker.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-8877358911760042601?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/8877358911760042601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=8877358911760042601&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8877358911760042601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/8877358911760042601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/05/what-time-is-it.html' title='What time is it??'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-7553641208123814019</id><published>2007-04-11T02:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T22:38:37.097-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 87th!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Around the beginning of February, I posted my 100th post. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;On the edit posts page, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;blog post counter thingy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; tells you how many posts you have. One day, it said 99 and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I thought it's so cool...I have 99 posts....according to my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;blog post counter thingy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.....I'll do something fun for my 100th. I searched and thought and searched some more and came up with &lt;a href="http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-100th.html"&gt;this 100th post&lt;/a&gt;.  Yaaay!  Happy 100th post to me!&lt;br /&gt;A few posts later, I thought that it's not possible for me to have 100 posts. Also, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;blog post counter thingy changed and said there were 125 posts.  That's weird.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I counted all my posts. It turns out that my blog post counter thingy includes drafts &amp; posts together so when I thought I had 100 posts, I really only had 87. I re-counted and this post is actually my 100th. Since I already did something fun for my 100th, which turned out to be only #87, I thought I'll do something fun for my real 100th - not the 87th - and find fun facts about the number 87. I got nuthin' except &lt;a href="http://209.85.165.104/search?q=cache:9PYGZNrCnQwJ:en.wikipedia.org/wiki/87_%28number%29+87&amp;amp;amp;hl=en&amp;ct=clnk&amp;amp;cd=1&amp;gl=us&amp;amp;client=firefox-a"&gt;this page&lt;/a&gt; from wikipedia on the number 87. Did you know that to date, there are 87 women serving in the U.S. Congress? Also, 87 is the number of years between the Declaration of Independence and the battle of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Gettysburg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;, as Abraham Lincoln said in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Gettysburg Address - "4 score and 7 years ago......"  Thrilling!  I'm falling out of my seat....&lt;br /&gt;Then I found &lt;a href="http://209.85.165.104/search?q=cache:UKJJrYLQQp0J:www.filmsite.org/1987.html+1987&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;ct=clnk&amp;amp;cd=5&amp;gl=us&amp;amp;client=firefox-a"&gt;this page&lt;/a&gt; - a list of the greatest films from 1987. Some of the best movies came out that year, like Dirty Dancing, 3 Men &amp; a Baby, and one of my favorites, The Princess Bride.&lt;br /&gt;Also in &lt;a href="http://209.85.165.104/search?q=cache:EtTUK-qQBksJ:en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1987+1987&amp;amp;amp;hl=en&amp;ct=clnk&amp;amp;cd=1&amp;gl=us&amp;amp;client=firefox-a"&gt;1987&lt;/a&gt;, some random things:&lt;br /&gt;The NY Giants won the superbowl - Go NY!&lt;br /&gt;The Simpsons premiered as part of the Tracy Ullman show&lt;br /&gt;The Legend of Zelda was released for Nintendo&lt;br /&gt;The U.S. celebrated the bicentennial of the Constituion&lt;br /&gt;Baby Jessica fell down a well and got rescued&lt;br /&gt;Delaware, Pennsylvania &amp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;New Jersey, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; celebrated 200 years of statehood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Also thrilling!  I can barely hold back my excitement. &lt;br /&gt;So basically 87 is just as boring as 100.  Wuhoo!  Happy 87th - or 100th - to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-7553641208123814019?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/7553641208123814019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=7553641208123814019&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7553641208123814019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7553641208123814019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/04/happy-87th.html' title='Happy 87th!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-3971690232233013242</id><published>2007-03-28T13:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T13:38:42.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #845</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;When leaving a message for someone to call you back, it's more helpful for them if you also leave your phone number.  Otherwise they have to guess and that might take longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-3971690232233013242?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/3971690232233013242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=3971690232233013242&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3971690232233013242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/3971690232233013242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/03/survival-tip-845.html' title='Survival Tip #845'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-9039719594898000907</id><published>2007-03-26T12:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T00:54:35.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The MTA in NYC</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;There are a lot of things for which New York City is known.  Museums, Times Square, Macy's,  parades, etc.  One thing it is particularly famous for is it's crazy people.  There are just so many out there.  Restaurants come and go, but crazy people will always be here. &lt;br /&gt;There are many elevators in different subway stations that are run by MTA Elevator operator people....I dunno what their official title is.  You can imagine if all you do all day is push an elevator button, you might go a little nuts.  There's one particular elevator operator who I really think only knows how to say "good evening" mainly because that's all he ever says.  Good thing he works the night shift.  Just when I thought he couldn't get any weirder, he did.  Someone mentioned the warm weather and how it brings out all the kids on bikes.  This subway elevator operator then responded "I hate those kids.  Maybe one of them will get hit by a truck or something!"  At least I know he knows how to say something other than "good evening"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-9039719594898000907?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/9039719594898000907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=9039719594898000907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/9039719594898000907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/9039719594898000907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/03/mta-in-nyc.html' title='The MTA in NYC'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-1218156925332676245</id><published>2007-03-15T14:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T14:37:38.816-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I swear I did not fix or cheat on this "quiz"</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="font-family: georgia;" align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;td bg="" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Mountain Dew&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#eeeeee"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatkindofsodaareyouquiz/mountain-dew.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultra hyper and full of energy, you're on a permanent sugar high.&lt;br /&gt;Some people complain about your taste, but they do appreciate your power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your best soda match: Coke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay away from: Root Beer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofsodaareyouquiz/"&gt;What Kind of Soda Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-1218156925332676245?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/1218156925332676245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=1218156925332676245&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1218156925332676245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/1218156925332676245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-swear-i-did-not-fix-or-cheat-on-this.html' title='I swear I did not fix or cheat on this &quot;quiz&quot;'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-4600225976542205505</id><published>2007-03-12T13:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T13:28:57.817-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Up Hill, Both Ways</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I live across the street from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bennett_Park_%28New_York%29"&gt;Bennett Park&lt;/a&gt;.  Within this park, there is a &lt;a href="http://americasroof.com/nyc-manhattan.shtml"&gt;plaque&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;from the United States    Coast and Geodetic Survey that reads: "The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Highest&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; Natural Point on Manhattan: 265.05 Feet Above Sea Level. USC &amp; GS Datum.''  Basically, I live across the street from the highest natural point in Manhattan.  So my building is pretty high up from yours.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I guess it's comforting to know that if Manhattan Island ever floods, I'll be ok.  The only thing higher than my apt is my upstairs neighbors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;So when someone else tells you they walked up hill both ways, they might be joking around.  But I am not joking.  For me to get home from any direction, no matter from where, I am always walking up hill!  So when I tell my grandkids that to get home, I had to walk up hill - both ways - in the snow....blah blah blah, I won't be lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-4600225976542205505?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/4600225976542205505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=4600225976542205505&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4600225976542205505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/4600225976542205505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/03/up-hill-both-ways.html' title='Up Hill, Both Ways'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2943134928877408785</id><published>2007-02-27T13:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T13:02:28.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wocka Wocka!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="font-family: georgia;" align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg="" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Fozzie Bear&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/themuppetpersonalitytest/fozzie.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wocka! Wocka!"&lt;br /&gt;You're the life of the party, and you love making people crack up.&lt;br /&gt;If only your routine didn't always bomb!&lt;br /&gt;You may find more groans than laughs, but always keep the jokes coming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/themuppetpersonalitytest/"&gt;The Muppet Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2943134928877408785?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2943134928877408785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2943134928877408785&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2943134928877408785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2943134928877408785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/wocka-wocka.html' title='Wocka Wocka!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-20411561369098795</id><published>2007-02-27T12:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T12:10:53.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My brain is totally Orange!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg="" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Brain is Orange&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#dddddd"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatcolorisyourbrainquiz/orange.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all the brain types, yours is the quickest.&lt;br /&gt;You are usually thinking a mile a minute, and you could be thinking about anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;Your thoughts are often scattered and random - but they're also a lot of fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tend to spend a lot of time thinking about esoteric subjects, the meaning of life, and pop culture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorisyourbrainquiz/"&gt;What Color Is Your Brain?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-20411561369098795?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/20411561369098795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=20411561369098795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/20411561369098795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/20411561369098795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-brain-is-totally-orange.html' title='My brain is totally Orange!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-2323074750682751188</id><published>2007-02-26T01:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T02:20:10.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A quarter is worth a thousand dollars</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I live in NYC where, surprisingly, a lot of things in life here revolve around having quarters. There are certain things that you can only pay for in quarters. The three that come to mind are laundry, buses, and parking meters. I'm sure there are more, but I can't think of them now. I never realized how much a quarter is worth. You all think I'm nuts because of course a quarter is $.25. Boy are you wrong! A quarter might literally be worth $.25, but when you get on that bus to go to work, or you're in the laundry room with a washer full of soaped up clothes, or you're in a car with the spot by the meter, you can have a million dollars in 10 different bank accounts, and you can have a hundred dollar bill in your wallet. But if you don't have quarters, you are so screwed. You can't stay on the bus, you can't do your laundry, and you have to move your car, or risk getting a ticket - which costs way more than just the quarters it costs to feed the meter. I suggest, before you go anywhere, you can have that $100 in your wallet. Just make sure some of it is in quarters. Or you might be stuck somewhere with no clean clothes and no way to get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-2323074750682751188?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/2323074750682751188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=2323074750682751188&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2323074750682751188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/2323074750682751188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/quarter-is-worth-thousand-dollars.html' title='A quarter is worth a thousand dollars'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-7226977834975967716</id><published>2007-02-22T16:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T16:04:22.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mis-Fortune Cookies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I never ever save my fortunes from the cookies because they always suck.  I always get the ones that say stuff like "You made a wrong turn on your road of life.  Turn around and start over" - I don't make this stuff up.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; Meanwhile, I opened my wallet today to pay for something and I found 2 fortunes that actually don't suck.  One says "A beautiful person is with you.  Confide your problems."  The other says, "Be happy with the person you are, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."  I really like those.  I guess that's why I saved them.  And I did NOT save the one about my wrong turn.....altho I actually did make many wrong turns this weekend....that's b/c I don't know how to read road maps....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-7226977834975967716?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/7226977834975967716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=7226977834975967716&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7226977834975967716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/7226977834975967716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/mis-fortune-cookies.html' title='Mis-Fortune Cookies'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-5564326634721721516</id><published>2007-02-20T17:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T17:55:22.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #745</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If you want your cell phone to be your alarm clock, and to wake you up in the morning, don't leave your cell phone on Silent.  You probably won't hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-5564326634721721516?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/5564326634721721516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=5564326634721721516&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5564326634721721516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/5564326634721721516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/survival-tip-745.html' title='Survival Tip #745'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-117139820548482624</id><published>2007-02-13T15:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T15:23:25.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why did God invent morons?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I know why God invented morons.  It's to make the rest of us feel smarter and gratified and to give us a good laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-117139820548482624?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/117139820548482624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=117139820548482624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117139820548482624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117139820548482624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/why-did-god-invent-morons.html' title='Why did God invent morons?!?!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-117131570227295290</id><published>2007-02-12T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T12:19:54.012-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Internet apparently really IS for porn*</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;My office shares our internet server with a day school. It's sooooo.... frustrating. They of course don't want the students wasting time on Facebook, or playing Yahoo games, or searching for stuff they shouldn't be searching for. So they block everything. And I mean everything! They have this stupid "Barracuda Spyware Firewall" which is programmed to detect anything kids shouldn't be doing online. So it's really frustrating for me when I want to search for something or do something else or whatever it is, and I get a message like this one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt; The URL: &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/&lt;/a&gt; was blocked &lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;li&gt; The link you are accessing has been blocked by the Barracuda Spyware Firewall because it contains filtered content, the content belongs to the category of: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;social-networking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; If you believe this is an error or need to access this link please contact your administrator.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I couldn't even hyperlink to those sites I mentioned above b/c of those messages. It's even more frustrating when my internet at home doesn't work and I can't get onto all those websites, like Facebook, and I can't really do anything online beyond pay my bills. Fabulous!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But sometimes, the Barracuda messages are good for a laugh. I tried to buy "Ice Age 2" on dvd today from my work computer. I would think "Ice Age" is a cute movie and nothing inappropriate in it, unless you think woolly mammoths being all cutesy and romantic is rated R. I do not. I got the following message from Barracuda:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; The URL: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;(which someone checked out for me and it apparently leads to an adult film store so I'm not gonna post the url - but why would a nice cute DVD like Ice Age lead me to an adult film store website?  I dunno)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; was blocked&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul  style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;li&gt; The link you are accessing has been blocked by the Barracuda Spyware Firewall because it contains filtered content, the content belongs to the category of:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; porn&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; If you believe this is an error or need to access this link please contact your administrator.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I guess the internet really &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; for porn.*  Who knew?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;* That was, once again, a reference to the best musical ever! - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.avenueq.com/broadway/se2.htm"&gt;Avenue Q&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.  Definitely see it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-117131570227295290?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/117131570227295290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=117131570227295290&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117131570227295290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117131570227295290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/internet-apparently-really-is-for-porn.html' title='The Internet apparently really IS for porn*'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-117061476530932102</id><published>2007-02-08T13:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T13:20:29.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aloha!  Welcome to this planet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Just so you know, Hawaii is actually one of the 50 United States of America.  Actually, it's the last place to become a state.  They acquired statehood on August 21, 1959.  You can read more about Hawaii on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawaii"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;So when you meet someone from Hawaii, do not welcome them to this country, or talk to them as if they don't speak english, or ask them why they decided to &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=immigrate"&gt;immigrate&lt;/a&gt; here.  Not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was for you, SF, LF, HLF, and ?F&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-117061476530932102?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/117061476530932102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=117061476530932102&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117061476530932102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117061476530932102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/aloha-welcome-to-this-planet.html' title='Aloha!  Welcome to this planet!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-117062246704920770</id><published>2007-02-04T16:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T00:49:12.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 100th!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;One day, while I was showing off my blog to one of &lt;a href="http://hanaleah.blogspot.com/"&gt;my loyal readers&lt;/a&gt;, I noticed that it said I have 99 posts.  That means, for those of you who have &lt;a href="http://www.devorasadventures.blogspot.com/"&gt;math deficiencies&lt;/a&gt;, that this is my 100th post.   So I thought I would do something fun like I did for &lt;a href="http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/07/happy-birthday-to-me-and-my-blog.html"&gt;my last birthday&lt;/a&gt;....or what I did for &lt;a href="http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-birthday.html"&gt;Heinz's birthday&lt;/a&gt;. And I didn't want to post anything else until I did this one - eventhough of course I thought of a lot of other things to post - but I wanted to make a really good 100th post. Of course I couldn't think of anything. I went to Google and I did all kinds of searches on the number 100. I came up with nothing. Then I searched on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/100_%28number%29"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt; and I found a list of random things about the number 100 - like in Greece, India, &amp; Israel, 100 is the number to dial for the police - kinda like their version of our 911. Also, did you know that there are 100 tiles in a standard game of Scrabble? Who knew! Also, there are 100 verses in the song "99 bottles of beer on the wall".*&lt;br /&gt;But that wasn't fun enough to blog about. So I went back to Google and tried searching for things like "facts about 100". I still got nothing. But I found a &lt;a href="http://www.flatrock.org.nz/topics/odds_and_oddities/100_facts.htm"&gt;really cool website&lt;/a&gt; with the most random facts....like if Coca Cola didn't have food coloring added to it, it would be green.  Eeeew....&lt;a href="http://www.mountaindew.com/"&gt;green soda&lt;/a&gt;.....who would ever drink that?**  Or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The characters &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bert_and_Ernie"&gt;Bert and Ernie&lt;/a&gt; on&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063951/"&gt; Sesame Street&lt;/a&gt; were named after Bert the cop and Ernie the taxi driver in &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0038650/"&gt;Frank Capra's &lt;i&gt;It's a Wonderful Life&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I loooove Bert and Ernie!  So I thought that was cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  So this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.flatrock.org.nz/topics/odds_and_oddities/100_facts.htm"&gt;awesome website &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;has a lot of other fun facts.  They get funnier as you scroll.  So you should definitely check it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Then I thought as I'm writing this that I could try to get 100 hyperlinks into this post. But that would take waaaaay too much effort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Then I thought I would look up how to say "100" in a lot of other languages. But that was fruitless. But I know a song that teaches you how to say "Hello" in many other languages. It's from the amazing cartoon, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0105941/"&gt;Animaniacs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;. You should check out the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/a/animaniacs8676/thehellosong807853.html"&gt;lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.  It's much funnier if you know the tune.  Maybe I'll sing it for you.....one day....or not....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So happy 100th to me. I hope you enjoyed all of my 100 posts. And may the next 200 be even more fun! And may we all be zoche to see the coming of the Beit Hamikdash bim'heira b'yameinu, Amen! ***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Now you have that beer song in your head, don'tcha? Sorry about that. I could get the Animaniacs Hello song stuck in your head, but I think you might be more annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;**About the comment on yucky green soda, if you don't know me that well, I'm a big fan of Mountain Dew. That's why that was funny.&lt;br /&gt;***I also thought of writing a dvar torah about the number 100 but I couldn't come up with anything fast enough. Sorry. Maybe next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-117062246704920770?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/117062246704920770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=117062246704920770&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117062246704920770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/117062246704920770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-100th.html' title='Happy 100th!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116956208180614433</id><published>2007-01-23T09:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T09:31:44.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip # 5674</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Always make sure to completely hang up the phone &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; complaining about the annoying caller.  Just removing the headset is not the same as hanging up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. This is not referring to anyone I actually know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116956208180614433?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116956208180614433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116956208180614433&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116956208180614433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116956208180614433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/01/survival-tip-5674.html' title='Survival Tip # 5674'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116948279894521841</id><published>2007-01-22T11:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T11:19:59.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Many Sides Does a "Pizzagon" Have?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I spent shabbat with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;my friends who have the &lt;a href="http://hanaleah.blogspot.com/"&gt;3rd cutest child ever!&lt;/a&gt;  Of course my niece and nephew are 1st and 2nd.  If I could figure out how to put pix on this thing successfully, I would prove it.  Also if my sister had a camera, like any normal parent, then I would have pictures to upload.  But as the perfect aunt, of course I have a camera with tons of pictures - and video - of my cutest niece and nephew.  But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;I spent shabbat with Hana and I had conversations I just never thought I would have as a woman in my 20's.  "are you done with your doo-doo?  I'm waiting for you to finish your doo-doo."  and "I make shi-shi."  "wow!  you made shi-shi?!  good girl!"  Not exactly word for word, but you get the idea. &lt;br /&gt;So we were playing with one of those balls with the different shaped holes and you have to put the different shaped blocks in the correct matching shaped holes.  You know what I'm talking about.  You all had one.  Most of the shapes have specific names, like square, circle, hexagon, plus sign, star, etc. and Hana knows all the shapes names, including the hard ones that most people don't learn until 10th grade geometry.  So we're putting the shapes into the holes and she says what each one is - "square...circle...plus sign....star....pentagon....pizzagon...."  I stopped and asked what a "pizzagon" is.  She showed me.  It's the shape that's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;like a triangle, but has a round bottom instead of a straight line.  So it looks like 1/4 of a pizza.  That is a "pizzagon".  They don't teach you that in 10th grade.  So now you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116948279894521841?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116948279894521841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116948279894521841&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116948279894521841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116948279894521841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2007/01/how-many-sides-does-pizzagon-have.html' title='How Many Sides Does a &quot;Pizzagon&quot; Have?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116717384396791288</id><published>2006-12-26T17:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T17:58:43.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally understand the importance of the baggage claim ticket</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have flown many times in my life. Thank God I have never had a problem with my luggage. You always hear stories - or even see for yourself - someone's luggage broke and their stuff is all over the baggage claim carousel. I know someone who was landing in israel for her shana aleph and everyone in the airport knows what she brought. But I have been a very lucky traveler and I have never had any problems.&lt;br /&gt;One thing I never understood was the reason - or the meaning - behind the baggage claim ticket. Apparently, your suitcase is stickered with a sticker with a number on it. You also get a sticker with that same number. When you go claim your bags, you are supposed to match up your sticker with the one on your bag. That's how you know it is in fact your bag. Of course, none of this matters b/c we all know which is our bag just by looking at it. And eventho everyone has the "same black suitcase", no one's is really so identical to anyone else's that you can't tell them all apart. So what's the point of having the baggage claim ticket? I never understood that. Until this past Sunday when I flew from NY to Italy and then, 2 hours later, from Italy to Israel where I landed on Monday, but my suitcase did not follow me there. So now I'm on my "vacation"in Jerusalem, a place that is oddly colder than NY, where it never snows and of course is supposed to snow tomorrow!, and I do not have my warm boots, or my warm sweaters, or any shabbat clothes, or anything else I managed to stuff in my suitcase. I'm very sad and depressed and ANGRY!!! and there's nothing I can do besides just wait and maybe yell at the airline ppl - altho yelling doesn't make them find my missing bag any faster. So I learned the meaning of the baggage claim ticket is that when the airline loses your luggage, the baggage claim ticket is really for them to be able to identify your bag/s. It's not for you at all, beyond being able to tell them what number is on the sticker attached to your bag. And if they never find your bag ever, you definitely don't need your baggage claim sticker....unless you have nothing else to wear. The, you should definitely save it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116717384396791288?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116717384396791288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116717384396791288&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116717384396791288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116717384396791288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-finally-understand-importance-of.html' title='I finally understand the importance of the baggage claim ticket'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116654232995215165</id><published>2006-12-19T10:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T10:33:47.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Q: What's black &amp; white and red all over?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A: Black &amp; white cookies that gave me a boo boo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I was helping to set up for the kiddush at my shul - which you should all do - next kiddush is Jan. 13 - see you all there! - and I was trying to open the box of black &amp;amp; white cookies. The edges of those boxes are so sharp that the box sliced my finger! Ouch! Why do they make those plastic boxes with such sharp edges?! Are they trying to child-proof them so that kids don't eat too much junk? But the kids are gonna try anyways, so now they will eat the cookies and get fat, and also get hurt in the process. Good going, cookie box man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116654232995215165?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116654232995215165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116654232995215165&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116654232995215165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116654232995215165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/12/q-whats-black-white-and-red-all-over.html' title='Q: What&apos;s black &amp; white and red all over?'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116581985032164386</id><published>2006-12-11T01:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T01:50:50.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip # 1211</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If something smells like cheese, but is not actually cheese, don't keep it.  Wash it, toss it, or even burn it.  But definitely don't keep it around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116581985032164386?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116581985032164386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116581985032164386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116581985032164386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116581985032164386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/12/survival-tip-1211.html' title='Survival Tip # 1211'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116472692742338245</id><published>2006-11-28T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T10:16:10.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #28</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Long hair and large machines do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Not&lt;/span&gt; mix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116472692742338245?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116472692742338245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116472692742338245&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116472692742338245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116472692742338245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/11/survival-tip-28.html' title='Survival Tip #28'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116301614161518465</id><published>2006-11-08T02:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T15:02:21.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;The phone company did not write down everyone's name, address and phone number - in abc order - just because they were bored.  It seems like people who call my office don't realize that.  Now you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116301614161518465?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116301614161518465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116301614161518465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116301614161518465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116301614161518465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/11/fyi.html' title='FYI'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116250636623175804</id><published>2006-11-02T17:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T17:27:25.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #420</title><content type='html'>When pouring liquid into a cup, don't let go of the cup - unless the floor is thirsty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116250636623175804?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116250636623175804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116250636623175804&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116250636623175804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116250636623175804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/11/survival-tip-420.html' title='Survival Tip #420'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116211524715098915</id><published>2006-10-29T04:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T04:50:13.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Information</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A few days ago, I went to my regular bus stop to catch the 7:40 bus. I waited and waited until 8:10 when the bus finally showed up. You can only imagine how pissed all the passengers were. Some started yelling at the poor bus driver. I just figured there was a lot of traffic and that's why he was 1/2 hour late. Silly me.  What was I thinking?  I found out I was wrong when the bus driver told us why he was late. He said to us that he had to drive very slowly because if he were to get into one more accident, he'll get fired. I kinda feel like maybe that's not something you should be sharing with your passengers. But that's just me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116211524715098915?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116211524715098915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116211524715098915&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116211524715098915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116211524715098915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/10/too-much-information.html' title='Too Much Information'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-116157816878418359</id><published>2006-10-23T00:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T00:57:52.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Mer-maideleh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I remember seeing The Little Mermaid when it came out back in 1989 and I remember liking it. Then I watched it on a flight either to or from Israel about 6 years ago and I remember thinking how this is the dumbest movie ever! How could a man fall in love with a fish?!? I hadn't watched it since.&lt;br /&gt;Last week, my office got a shipment of printer cartridges and apparently we spend enough money that they sent us a free DVD of The Little Mermaid, which is still the dumbest movie ever (with the exception of Napolean Dynamite - Hi Yehuda!) but it's my roommate's favorite Disney movie. I said to her and a few other friends that it's the dumbest movie b/c she's a fish and he's a man and how unrealistic is that? But she brought up that a woman falling in love with a monster and them getting together on the advice of the monster's talking appliances or a plain guy turning into a prince, flying on a rug, and winning over a princess is not so realistic either. Whatever!  Best Movies Ever!  So we watched The Little Mermaid tonight. When the movie ended, I once again shouted "That is the dumbest movie ever! How could she love him?! She doesn't even know him! They only spent 3 days together!  And he did all the talking!  (Just like my last date!)  The whole thing is ridiculous. So my roommate says "Maybe they're Jewish".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-116157816878418359?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/116157816878418359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=116157816878418359&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116157816878418359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/116157816878418359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/10/little-mer-maideleh.html' title='The Little Mer-maideleh'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115945934653235670</id><published>2006-09-28T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T12:02:26.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival Tip #927</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;When 3 people yell and scream at you to stop talking, they might be trying to tell you something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115945934653235670?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115945934653235670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115945934653235670&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115945934653235670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115945934653235670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/09/survival-tip-927.html' title='Survival Tip #927'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115674432283882833</id><published>2006-09-21T20:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T20:40:49.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why am I always the last to know?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I had the following conversation a while ago. I'm going to really change the names b/c they are unimportant except that I can't follow pronouns so I need some names there. Except I'm not chaning my name b/c that would just be silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy: Hey...blah blah blah....normal conversation.....So are you dating Herbie?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Sadly, no.  Why do you ask?&lt;br /&gt;Andy: A friend of mine wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Reeeeally...  Why?&lt;br /&gt;Andy: Because he saw you two talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson number 1: If a girl is talking to a guy, it must be that she's dating him.  Why else on earth would she be talking to him?  Seriously? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you thought that conversation was ridiculous, check this one out.  I recently emailed a few friends - by a few, I mean a lot.  One of them wrote back to me asking if I was going out with "Herbie".  She inferred that from something I had written in the email.  So I told her that we are not going out but that she is not the first person to think that.  I then told her that if she hears that "Herbie" and I are engaged before I hear about it, she should let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson number 2:  If you mention a boy in an email, you must be dating him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, more ppl know about my dating life than I do.  So if any of you out there know anything about my dating life, can you please let me know?  That would help me out a lot!  Thanx so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115674432283882833?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115674432283882833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115674432283882833&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115674432283882833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115674432283882833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/09/why-am-i-always-last-to-know.html' title='Why am I always the last to know?!'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115752996092518254</id><published>2006-09-06T04:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T04:06:00.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival tip #27</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Men don't want Jell-O (tm).  They want Crème brûlée.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115752996092518254?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115752996092518254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115752996092518254&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115752996092518254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115752996092518254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/09/survival-tip-27.html' title='Survival tip #27'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115030556288382113</id><published>2006-09-03T11:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T23:45:52.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Canadia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I love New York.  I really do.  There is always so much going on here and so much to do and see - like the kids who think they can dance so they try to dance on the subways but go flying into the walls.  Those are fun.  But there is one thing I don't like about New York.  That is the stereotype that all NY'ers do not know geography.  That is not at all true.  I know plenty of geography.  I was even on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0106172/"&gt;TV&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; because of it.  And likewise, there are plenty of people out there from other places outside of NYC who also don't know any geography - like this chick from Canadia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;When I was in college - in NYC, I was very active in the Drama society.  When I was president of the club, one of the plays we performed was the female version of &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063374/"&gt;"The Odd Couple"&lt;/a&gt; by Neil Simon.  It was soooo funny.  In one of the many scenes in the play where the two main characters are arguing, one was defending her job to the other, trying to say that she does more than just report baseball scores.  She was trying to say that she reports real news to the public and she mentioned a major revolution in Baagi - a new country in Africa.  Of course Neil Simon made up this country.  But for the play, it was real enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;The shabbat before our play was to open, we had a Shabbaton for our club, but it was opened to the whole school.  At lunch, I was sitting with some friends and this chick from Canadia was sitting across from me.  Somehow we got into an argument about NY'ers being so egotistical to think that everything centers around NYC and also about NY'ers being ignorant to the rest of the world and specifically the rest of the country.  So I took offense to that because, as I said before, I happen to know a lot of geography and I don't think NYC is the center of anything.  I think that's how I got dragged into the argument.  So this chick, being from Canadia, proceded to repremand me for not knowing Canadian geography.  I simply said to her that I am not from Canadia so why should I know Canadian geography - which by the way, I do know some of it - but why should I?  Would you expect someone from France to know Russian geography?  No!  But her argument back to me was that what I said is such a typical NY'er egotistical thing to say, that NY'ers, and also Americans, expect everyone to know about NY and America, but we don't have to know about anywhere else.  I said "But I'm not FROM there and I will Never Live there!!! so why should I have to know about Canadia?!?!"  Well she went on an on about how we expect her to know American geography - that's because you live in this country, you wacko! - and how NY'ers know nothing about geography.  So I interrupted her and said something like, "Hold on. Do you know where Baagi is?" She did not. She even said something like "That's not the point". So I said "It's very much the point. How can you yell at me for not knowing geography, when you also don't?" That shut her up for a few minutes. Meanwhile, my Drama club members were trying not to crack up in her face, because after all, Baagi is a made-up country and anyone who knows geography like she claims to should have known that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115030556288382113?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115030556288382113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115030556288382113&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115030556288382113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115030556288382113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/09/oh-canadia.html' title='Oh Canadia'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115674426313650667</id><published>2006-08-29T18:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T18:35:25.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Toto, I think we're in New York.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I've lived in New York my whole life. I grew up in a town that is famous for their buses having a מחיצה down the middle. That alone should explain why I dislike it so much and moved out. I now live in NYC - which is famous for a lot of other reasons, but is definitely not known for having friendly people. That's why whenever people ask me where I'm from, and they think I'm from "out of town", or somewhere outside the NY metropolitan area, like Detroit, I take it as a very high compliment. It means they think I'm a nice person. So thank you for that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I never really thought of myself as one of those cocky NY-centric geographically inept people who typically lives here and thinks that NY is the center of the Universe and everywhere else is just a suburb.....like Pennsyltucky, or Ohidaho, or New Jersey. However, after this past shabbat, I might have trouble proving that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I went to Philadelphia - in Pennsylvania, but not the capital - see? I know stuff! I went there for a aufruf and a wedding. The whole weekend was amazing....soooo glad I went...with my ducks....which all quack....a lot. Besides the ducks, there were a lot of people who came in from Chicago for the weekend also. So as a nice friendly non-NY-ish gesture, I wanted to welcome them after they traveled from far. So I said to them on Friday, "Welcome to NY" to which they replied, "Um...we're not in NY", afterwhich I felt really dumb. I knew we weren't in NY. I had just spent 2 hours in a car traveling there. And when we got there, there were trees. So of course we were not in NY. NY doesn't have those big "tree" things. We don't even know what trees are. But they are a lot prettier than the tall ugly buildings I see from my windows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The rest of the weekend, it just became the big joke that I'm from NY and that NY is the center of the universe and nowhere else matters. So I began calling everyone out-of-towners - which was ironically true b/c most of the ppl there were actually not from Philly either. So really, we were all out-of-towners - except for me, of course, being from NY, the center of the Universe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;At the שבת כלה, in the afternoon, one of the women gave a really awesome דבר תורה explaining the phases of the moon and how witnesses used to report when ראש חדש was coming. She even had a demonstration involving paper cut-outs of the sun, the earth, and the different phases of the moon. It was sooo cool! When she put the Earth on the table with the sun, she showed how our angle is going to be from Antarctica. I quickly jumped up and asked, "Wait, where's NY?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I just want to set the record straight. In my defense, I really don't believe that New York is the center of the universe. I actually don't like New York so much. (altho Toys R Us on 42nd street is reeeeally cool! They have a ferris wheel in the store!) I hate Monsey and I totally hate Brooklyn. Western NY State, like up by the finger lakes is beautiful and more like the rest of the US in terms of it's actually really nice there with friendly ppl and stuff. But I'm sort of (not at all) like an abused child who still loves the abusive parents. The child doesn't know any different. So too, I've lived in NY my whole life and therefore I don't know any better. That's not really my fault.....right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;p.s. See Josh, I didn't mention my birthday once in this whole post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115674426313650667?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115674426313650667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115674426313650667&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115674426313650667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115674426313650667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/08/toto-i-think-were-in-new-york.html' title='Toto, I think we&apos;re in New York.'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115575717013573275</id><published>2006-08-16T15:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T15:39:30.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my roommates</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I really do.  I was being all bummy and whiny about my birthday, that it was during the 9 days, and how no one did anything, and stuff.  But my roommates came into my room at midnite and sang to me - both my english and hebrew birthdays.  And they each bought me a present.  And they haven't ripped my "happy birthday" sign off the wall.  Oooh and one of them let me punch her to let out all my aggression!  That was awesome!  She is a personal trainer and she has boxing gloves that I wore and she wore those mits so she can take my punches.  So I didn't actually punch Her.  So apparently I had a lot of aggression - and apparently I'm very strong - who knew - so I almost broke her.  Sorry about that...  But I reeeeally appreciated it.  And now I feel a lot better.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I love my roommates.  I'm very lucky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115575717013573275?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115575717013573275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115575717013573275&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115575717013573275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115575717013573275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-love-my-roommates.html' title='I love my roommates'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115558638590650212</id><published>2006-08-14T18:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T18:34:54.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>חפץ חשוד</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A few weeks ago, Esther and I were walking around Best Buy and we stumbled into the TV show DVD section.  I spotted &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0126171/"&gt;She-Ra&lt;/a&gt; on DVD and I flipped out.  She is the coolest cartoon ever!  She totally kicks butt - literally!  So Esther bought it for me for my birthday - seriously best birthday present ever! &lt;br /&gt;Last week, while I was all bummed b/c my birthday came out during the 9 days and I did not get a party, I got a package in the mail.  I was not expecting anything and I hadn't ordered anything and I didn't recognize the return address, altho the envelope said EBay on it.  But I didn't bid on anything......or I don't remember bidding on anything....uh-oh....  So I opened it.  It was the best of &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0126158/"&gt;He-Man&lt;/a&gt; on DVD!  I'm trying to figure out how this came to me.  First I thought maybe Esther bought it for me.  But she already bought me a present so why would she buy me another one?  Then I thought maybe someone saw it on &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/registry/registry.html/002-4213032-5448063?ie=UTF8&amp;type=wishlist&amp;amp;id=1FYFYWWIZZF1J"&gt;my wish list&lt;/a&gt;.  But it's not on my wish list.  I thought of trying to track down the return address through ebay and asking him who purchased it.  But that takes too much effort and it probably wouldn't work b/c I wouldn't give some random person that kind of info.&lt;br /&gt;Oh beloved gift giver, please let me know who you are.  And also, thank you for buying for me a most awesome gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*For those who don't know, a חפץ חשוד literally means "suspicious object".  It's a phrase used in Israel to describe any bag or package or anything left unattended that could potentially be a bomb, חס ושלום. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115558638590650212?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115558638590650212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115558638590650212&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115558638590650212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115558638590650212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/08/blog-post.html' title='חפץ חשוד'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115457457072365141</id><published>2006-08-02T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T23:13:18.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm such an idiot</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ok. I'm not really an idiot. But that's the only explanation for the biggest mistake of my life and ironically, the first mistake I've ever made....on the day I was born. I was born during the 9 days. The 9 days are a time the Rabbis established for all Jews to mourn because of all the horrible things that have happened to the Jews over the centuries which they attribute to the fact that Jews keep sinning. It culminates with Tisha B'av, a day of national mourning for all the horrible things that happened during this time of year, particularly the destruction of both Batei Mikdash. It's basically a very very sad time with a few restrictions, such as no parites, no meat, no wine, you can't buy anything new, etc. So I chose to join the world during this fabulous week. But not just during. I was born the day before Tisha B'Av. What was I thinking?! Some years, my english birthday comes out before or after the 9 days. Like last year when I was able to have a &lt;a href="http://www.seas.upenn.edu/~mdredze/pictures/aronas_birthday/"&gt;really awesome party&lt;/a&gt; (where Yehuda met Dena and now they are getting married and they are my 4th couple!) But this year, my english birthday came out on the 7th of the 9 days. When friends asked me what did I do for my birthday? Did I do anything fun? Any fun parties or anything? I said no. I can't do that. So I watched Gilmore Girls and ate dairy. Nothing against Gilmore Girls, but I want meat. And I want a party. &lt;/span&gt;So I beg all Jews to please stop with the sinning. It's generally bad for us, and it doesn't look good for yourself either. But really, I don't like being cheated out of proper birthday parties! So please stop sinning already so I can have a party on my birthday! (Oh and also, it will bring Mashiach)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115457457072365141?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115457457072365141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115457457072365141&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115457457072365141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115457457072365141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/08/im-such-idiot.html' title='I&apos;m such an idiot'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14818679.post-115457472894985241</id><published>2006-08-02T23:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T23:12:08.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet another joke on my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Wanna hear a funny joke? Abigael's sent me a coupon for a free entree for my birthday and it's good 7 days before until 7 days after my birthday. That's 15 days. Cool, right? In case you don't know, Abigael's is a lovely meat restaurant. Meat is one of the few things that is not allowed during The 9 days. Well, 7 days before my birthday this year is Rosh Chodesh Av thru the 7th of Av. So there go those 7 days. Then my birthday is on the 7th. Then the 7 days after my birthday are 8th of Av &amp; Tisha B'Av, and then Friday &amp;amp; Shabbat. Then we have Sunday, Monday, Tuesday. So, because the Jews sinned, and are still sinning, and we are all mourning, and now we can't eat meat this week, out of the 15 days that my coupon for a free entree is valid, I can only use 3. And you better believe I'm going to use it during my 3 days. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14818679-115457472894985241?l=whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/feeds/115457472894985241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14818679&amp;postID=115457472894985241&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115457472894985241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14818679/posts/default/115457472894985241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whoneedsalastname.blogspot.com/2006/08/yet-another-joke-on-my-life_02.html' title='Yet another joke on my life'/><author><name>Arona</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11680817540624621413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7920/549/160/ro.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
