<?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-7966813781409167192</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:37:30.356-08:00</updated><category term='stereotypes'/><category term='gym'/><category term='junkie squat'/><category term='office creatures'/><category term='fitness'/><category term='funniness'/><category term='humor'/><title type='text'>The Bashful Peacock</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-6963136990079074070</id><published>2008-02-18T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:01:47.674-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='office creatures'/><title type='text'>The whole office is out to get me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;For months I've suspected there's something amiss in my office. Things on my desk wouldn't be where I left them, I'd hear strange noises eminating from my office before I'd walk in, crazy things. I didn't know what to do, until last night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I snuck into my office through the back door. I slowly creeped into my office, armed only with a boxcutter &amp;amp; a brand new sharpie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I found may horrify you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been lucky enough to remember my camera, and this, ladies and gentlemen, is the first of what my camera captured last night:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(scroll down)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168355603339123922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R7mwCcHtnNI/AAAAAAAAACk/lCFyjIRFTv0/s320/P1300043.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;A mouse!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe it! Was this a single rodent, or was my office infested? I had to know! I continued on through my office and was nearly spotted by a fiersome creature!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Staplerous Menaceous:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168356161684872434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R7mwi8HtnPI/AAAAAAAAAC0/f6IeSmSJaWw/s320/P1300046.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I quickly ducked out of the way! I tumbled and rolled, ended up near my filing cabinet and was nearly eaten by the creature hiding behind it,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168356337778531586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R7mwtMHtnQI/AAAAAAAAAC8/EyIgMW0Bf8k/s320/P1300049.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a Paperworkous Lefttodous!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My office was truly infested! I was scared, I'll admit that. I was very, very afraid. I couldn't just leave though. It was up to me to save the office, if I didn't, no one would. My first course of action was to call for backup, I reached for the phone. I nearly lost my hand. The rarest of office creatures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168356505282256146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R7mw28HtnRI/AAAAAAAAADE/0wBCPfbs-Ek/s320/P1300040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tyelefones Rabidous! My God!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What was I to do?&lt;br /&gt;I ran for the storage closet and cowered. I had to think of a plan! Finally, I decided I had to face each creature, one-on-one. I left the safety of the closet and headed for my desk. What I found is something no other employee has ever witnessed.&lt;br /&gt;They were in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168356689965849890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R7mxBsHtnSI/AAAAAAAAADM/TCR74zCCcE0/s320/P1300056.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A MEETING!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This I could no longer handle on my own! Things had escalated beyond my ability to control.&lt;br /&gt;I ran.&lt;br /&gt;I ran screaming like a little girl.&lt;br /&gt;So I ask you, the reader:&lt;br /&gt;Know of anyone hiring? I need a new job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;DISCLAIMER: No, I do not need a new job. I am well fed and taken care of at my current job. I have learned the habits and rituals of the office creatures and we now get along just fine. Even though the stapler still owes me $20.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-6963136990079074070?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/6963136990079074070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=6963136990079074070&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/6963136990079074070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/6963136990079074070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2008/02/whole-office-is-out-to-get-me.html' title='The whole office is out to get me!'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R7mwCcHtnNI/AAAAAAAAACk/lCFyjIRFTv0/s72-c/P1300043.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-911056245947976323</id><published>2008-02-15T07:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T08:34:08.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know what he stole from my car!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I posted a bulliten about my car being broken into.&lt;br /&gt;I told you all that I didn't know what the guy took from me.&lt;br /&gt;Now I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little recap:&lt;br /&gt;*He didn't take the bottle of percoset (prescription pain killers) lying on the back seat.&lt;br /&gt;*He didn't take my checkbook, or my tools, also on the back seat.&lt;br /&gt;*He definatly didn't take my CD collection (not his style of music, I guess).&lt;br /&gt;*He didn't take my digital camera, lying on the dash.However,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He DID take my $15 Wal-Mart power inverter and my cell phone charger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out this morning when I went to charge my cell phone while I was in the gym, and it wasn't there. I actually feel better, knowing he stole something, instead of busting my rear window out in vain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm being targeted by an underground group of moronic theives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cell phone is dead and until I get off work and go buy a new charger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(yes, this is real, I am not making this up!)&lt;br /&gt;(note to potential thieves: all those goodies listed above are no longer in my car, as I am missing a window!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-911056245947976323?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/911056245947976323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=911056245947976323&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/911056245947976323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/911056245947976323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-know-what-he-stole-from-my-car.html' title='I know what he stole from my car!'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-7073797110658872287</id><published>2008-02-14T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T08:30:17.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To the guy who broke into my car...</title><content type='html'>Some of you may remember my blog post a while back about the guy who tried to &lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vYmxvZy5teXNwYWNlLmNvbS9pbmRleC5jZm0/ZnVzZWFjdGlvbj1ibG9nLnZpZXcmZnJpZW5kSUQ9Nzk1NjQ4NyZibG9nSUQ9MzMyNTQ4NzA5Jk15dG9rZW49QjE0RTAwRjEtRTM3RS00NzYwLTkwOUMzNzNENDUyRDYzMkY3MzMxOTQwNg=="&gt;steal my previous car&lt;/a&gt; (with the dead battery!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, last night someone broke into my current car, they smashed the rear window in and unlocked the doors. If you have any idea of WHO did this, would you please ask them: "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TAKE?!?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is still in my car.&lt;br /&gt;What the hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My CD collection? Still there.&lt;br /&gt;My Tools: Check&lt;br /&gt;My PRESCRIPTION PAIN KILLERS: Still lying on the back seat.&lt;br /&gt;My Checkbook: Not one check missing.&lt;br /&gt;So, what the hell dude?&lt;br /&gt;And why did you leave your sock with the roll of pennies in it lying next to my car? Can't you reuse those things? I'm no professional, but I'd think 'sock with roll of pennies' has more than one use in it.&lt;br /&gt;Many of you may think I'm joking here. I'm completely serious. What the hell did you take?????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-7073797110658872287?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/7073797110658872287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=7073797110658872287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/7073797110658872287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/7073797110658872287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2008/02/to-guy-who-broke-into-my-car.html' title='To the guy who broke into my car...'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-3546343969487821732</id><published>2007-12-25T08:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T09:01:30.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To the guy who tried to steal my car...</title><content type='html'>Hi.&lt;br /&gt;I own the car you tried to steal last week. Yeah, the blue Honda. That was the first car I ever bought, I spent months looking for the PERFECT car. That one you tried to steal? That was my perfect car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you didn't cut yourself when you smashed my window in. It looks like the tinting kept most of the glass from splashing everywhere. Except the seat. I also hope it wasn't too difficult for you to remove the steering column cover. I had a hell of a time trying to get it off when I installed my stereo wiring. Looks like you did okay though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tell me something, I really am curious: How long did you spend trying to hotwire my ignition before you realized the battery was dead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;McManjammas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-3546343969487821732?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/3546343969487821732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=3546343969487821732&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/3546343969487821732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/3546343969487821732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2007/12/to-guy-who-tried-to-steal-my-car.html' title='To the guy who tried to steal my car...'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-7239738365818593154</id><published>2007-12-21T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:01:48.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Embrace the Pink</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Last week I was in the gym and I saw something horrifying. There was a petite middle aged woman lifting more than &lt;strong&gt;35 pounds! &lt;/strong&gt;Doesn't she know what she's doing to herself? Doesn't she know that if she keeps doing that she'll &lt;u&gt;get too huge&lt;/u&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2v63b6T-yI/AAAAAAAAAAk/dmvBniA48oM/s1600-h/tonia+small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146482829493009186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2v63b6T-yI/AAAAAAAAAAk/dmvBniA48oM/s200/tonia+small.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take for example a good friend of mine, Tonia. Tonia was a very striking young woman, she had a great gym routine using the &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pink&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 5 pound dumbbells. She did super-high rep workouts, spent hours on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;treadmill&lt;/span&gt;, and kept herself in great shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is, until a personal trainer recommended to her she upgrade to the massive 10-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pounders&lt;/span&gt; (which by the way, aren't even pink). A week later she had nearly exploded.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2wAkL6T-3I/AAAAAAAAABM/0NF-QVzgicQ/s1600-h/tonia+huge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146489095850294130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2wAkL6T-3I/AAAAAAAAABM/0NF-QVzgicQ/s200/tonia+huge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She woke up one morning and to her absolute horror had transformed into a huge muscle-bound behemoth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonia has dedicated her life to ensuring other young women don't make the same mistake that she did. She is now on a strict workout routine of no weights &amp;amp; 3 hours of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cardio&lt;/span&gt;, 5 days per week. She hopes to get back to her previous figure within the next few years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope some of this is sinking in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2v92b6T-0I/AAAAAAAAAA0/aqL7XR2DYvA/s1600-h/small+lady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146486110848023362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2v92b6T-0I/AAAAAAAAAA0/aqL7XR2DYvA/s200/small+lady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If that's not enough to convince you gym-bound ladies to STAY AWAY from heavy weights, let me show you another very close friend of mine. Sandy had a great routine of 4 days &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;cardio&lt;/span&gt;, 1 day resistance bands. Until of course, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;mischievous&lt;/span&gt; personal trainer, up to no good, coaxed her into using the &lt;strong&gt;bench press. &lt;/strong&gt;Just two weeks later, Sandy found herself in a very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;awkward&lt;/span&gt; position.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sure you know where this is going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2xCzL6T-4I/AAAAAAAAABU/LsAIe4Xl3n0/s1600-h/HUGE+Lady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146561921315765122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2xCzL6T-4I/AAAAAAAAABU/LsAIe4Xl3n0/s200/HUGE+Lady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sandy is now on a very strict diet, attempting get back to her previous figure. She has completely sworn off the gym and all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;exercise&lt;/span&gt;. When she gets back to her normal size, which could take several years, she plans to stay in shape by dieting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to heavy weights, these women have had their lives nearly ruined. Next time a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;snarky&lt;/span&gt; personal trainer tries to get you off of the pink dumbbells, just say &lt;strong&gt;NO.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&lt;em&gt;McManjammas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so I don't really know these &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt; women. Though I certainly wouldn't mind meeting them. They are all beautiful and two of the above have worked very, very hard to get where they are at. Female bodybuilders are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;definatly&lt;/span&gt; the hardest working members in the gym. Most cannot get to where they are at without a lifetime of dedicated, hard work &amp;amp; countless hours in the gym.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If my sarcasm hasn't made this clear enough for you, my point is &lt;strong&gt;you won't get too big!&lt;/strong&gt; I cannot count the amount of women that have used the same excuse of "I don't want to get too big." Trust me, ladies, you will not. Women, by nature, are not meant to carry large muscles. Even if you spend countless hours in the gym, lift as heavy as you can and eat like an animal, you're not going to wake up one morning, stumble to the vanity mirror, only to find you're a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;rhinoceros&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trust me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-7239738365818593154?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/7239738365818593154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=7239738365818593154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/7239738365818593154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/7239738365818593154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2007/12/embrace-pink.html' title='Embrace the Pink'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2v63b6T-yI/AAAAAAAAAAk/dmvBniA48oM/s72-c/tonia+small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-3410107095711855275</id><published>2007-12-19T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T11:37:43.497-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry Hammer, It's Gym Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"I just don't like going to the gym"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These were the words a friend recently said to me. We were talking about the benefits of staying in shape and how to do so. At the time I responded with something dismissive, like "Yeah, it's not for everyone". Of course, that's not quite what I was &lt;em&gt;thinking&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was heading home that night I got to thinking about it and realized that &lt;em&gt;I too, don't like going to the gym!&lt;/em&gt; Ok, not really. I've always known that. As a matter of fact, I &lt;em&gt;hate&lt;/em&gt; going to the gym. Four days per week I get up at 4:30 &lt;em&gt;in the morning.&lt;/em&gt; I crawl out of bed, careful not to wake my partner. About that time I realize I don't &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; a partner and then I'm reminded of just how pathetic and lonely I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After falling out of bed, I zombie my way over to the kitchen to pour myself a bowl of &lt;a href="http://www.crystalradio.net/oatbox/newquickoats.jpg"&gt;tasteless gruel&lt;/a&gt;. When I'm done choking that down I get in my car and drive 10 minutes to the gym in a vehicle that takes 20 minutes to warm up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freezing, lonely and and still half-zombie I enter and get to pretend I'm a hamster in a wheel and get on the treadmill to run my furry little tail off. Tail-removed, I'm ready to go repeatedly lift a bunch of heavy stuff for an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I finish there I'll drive home, frantically get ready for work and begin &lt;em&gt;the rest of my day &lt;/em&gt;where yours is just starting&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; What part of that do people think they're supposed to &lt;em&gt;like&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we do it? Why do we torture ourselves like this? Leave a comment with your reason. When enough of you have replied to me with your personal reason for staying fit (or getting there!) I'll do a special post and award the best response. Let me start off with my personal reason:&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 345px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="222" alt="" src="http://www.coolestspringbreak.com/image-files/south-beach-spring-break-people.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Your turn. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-3410107095711855275?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/3410107095711855275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=3410107095711855275&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/3410107095711855275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/3410107095711855275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2007/12/sorry-hammer-its-gym-time.html' title='Sorry Hammer, It&apos;s Gym Time!'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-2841132362650930940</id><published>2007-12-17T09:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T11:38:49.954-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funniness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fitness'/><title type='text'>Oh, the things we do...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Why is it we seem so convinced that staying fit is a complicated, scientific procedure? We measure every calorie, we do crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exercises&lt;/span&gt; on giant air-filled balls and swallow weight loss pills that cause us to have all sorts of (usually gastrointestinal) side effects. &lt;/span&gt;Today's post is dedicated to &lt;strong&gt;'Fitness Funniness'. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Disclaimer: I don't recommend any of this crap, and my definition of 'funny' is sometimes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;synonymous&lt;/span&gt; with 'horrifying'.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Funniest Pill&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/0ckE67l7sxcsh/340x.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/0ckE67l7sxcsh/340x.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Alli works by refusing your body the ability to process fat. I have two issues with this. Number one is that your body &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;needs fat&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. No, not the blubbery &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muffin_top"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;muffin top&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; kind, but the kind in peanut butter. &lt;/span&gt;The second issue I have is more, well, aesthetic. Because your body doesn't process fat, it just slides through your insides until it reaches your colon. At this point the fat is&lt;em&gt; still&lt;/em&gt; completely unprocessed and in it's original brown, oily form. Because humans aren't airtight &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ziplock&lt;/span&gt; sealed, the fat is easily &lt;em&gt;expelled&lt;/em&gt; from your colon. Usually without your knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meaning&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Buy extra underwear and stay away from the whitey-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tighties&lt;/span&gt;. I recommend &lt;a href="http://www.porcelynne.com/catalog/polkadottn.jpg"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a direct quote from the Alli website:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"You may feel an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Until you have a sense of any treatment effects, it's probably a smart idea to wear dark pants, and bring a change of clothes with you to work " &lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Funniest Machine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.coolest-gadgets.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/01/ijoy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.coolest-gadgets.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/01/ijoy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;iJoy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;is probably the funniest contraption I've come across yet. Their website claims you &lt;em&gt;"Just hop on, sit back, balance and have fun riding"&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;The idea of bucking/wobbling, motorized chairs is hardly new, but the detail that won this machine it's award is &lt;em&gt;it's name.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;iJoy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; What part of working out is "Joyful"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this machine is targeting lonely housewives and curious sorority girls, not the fitness crowd. I'd hardly expect to see a barbell bench named "The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Joybench&lt;/span&gt;" (and if I did I'd probably be expecting a whole lot more than a good workout)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Funniest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Exercise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;exercises&lt;/span&gt; are 'invented' nearly every day by either very creative individuals or gym-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tards&lt;/span&gt;, this one really stands out. I'm going to simply leave you to watching the video, and keep the commentary short. (Note: I was going to say this was "Safe For Work" (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;SFW&lt;/span&gt;) but I think this really depends on where you work.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xFoXowkYwEg&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xFoXowkYwEg&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Funniest Diet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is so absurd I'll just give you an excerpt from the book: &lt;a href="http://mind.ucsd.edu/misc/diversions/n1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://mind.ucsd.edu/misc/diversions/n1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"The basics of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Nietzschean&lt;/span&gt; regimen are simple," &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Hollingdale&lt;/span&gt; wrote in the book's foreword. "The dieter exercises a painful amount of self-honesty in order to identify the primary object of his or her deepest human dread as personified by a wide-ranging group of foodstuffs. Once the dieter's Fear has been identified, he eats that food exclusively, in unlimited amounts, until the food no longer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;appetizes&lt;/span&gt; or frightens him. Having completed his gorge and transcended his fear, the dieter fasts for 20 days on water and Simple Salad. The dieter also engages in moderate metaphysical exercise, drinks eight brimming bowls of water every day, and 'opens the Gates of Dread and Fiber that remain closed to him in his Mundane Life' by taking fiber supplements."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-2841132362650930940?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/2841132362650930940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=2841132362650930940&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/2841132362650930940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/2841132362650930940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2007/12/oh-things-we-do.html' title='Oh, the things we do...'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966813781409167192.post-2737940739106720505</id><published>2007-12-13T14:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:01:48.546-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stereotypes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='junkie squat'/><title type='text'>Hey! These weights are heavy!</title><content type='html'>After a 6 month tour in a YMCA I decided to step it up a bit and join a "real" gym. Whatever that means. Let me give you a little tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we enter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Brent: "Hi McManjammas"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's Brent. He owns the gym and seems to be here &lt;u&gt;all the time&lt;/u&gt;. What's that? He's overweight? I just said he was here, not that he actually worked out. Brent remembers everyone's name, everyone's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's move over to the cardio section. This is the 4:30 crowd. The 4:30&lt;strong&gt;am&lt;/strong&gt; crowd. We've all gotten into the habit of doing our cardio first thing. Nothing much to see here. Let's move over to the freeweights. See the guy in the Hawaiian shirt and the &lt;strong&gt;cabana boy&lt;/strong&gt; look? He's the one on the decline bench press. That's all he does here. Well, that and the pec fly machine. I'm not sure what his physical goals are, but I'm pretty sure it involves his chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now turn around and look over to the cable machine, see the 60-something guy doing his workouts in super-high-speed? I'm not sure who told him to do all of his excersizes with light weight and as fast as possible, but he sure took that advice. I call him &lt;strong&gt;hair flop&lt;/strong&gt;. This is due to the way his back-to-front combover flops wildly about during superspeed hyperextensions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on over this way--oh but watch out for &lt;strong&gt;grunty, &lt;/strong&gt;I call him that bec--well, I'm sure you get it. Before we get to the squat rack let's turn and look back to the entrance. See the guy talking to Brent that looks pissed off? He always looks that way. &lt;strong&gt;Mr. AngryFace&lt;/strong&gt; spends most of his gym time &lt;em&gt;talking&lt;/em&gt; to Brent and looking angry. Don't let that fool you, he's actually pretty nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look's like &lt;strong&gt;hair flop&lt;/strong&gt; is over at the Smith Machine. I think he's doing squats, but I'm not sure. I've never seen them done quite like that. He loads the bar up, gets his shoulders under it, then moves his feet &lt;em&gt;as far as possible away. &lt;/em&gt;Then proceeds to "squat". I call it the "Junkie Squat" Because I think this excersize is supposed to mangle your back so badly that you can get a prescription for heavy painkillers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2HCeL6T-wI/AAAAAAAAAAU/RwebbPPaahI/s1600-h/squatrackguy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143606073283050242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2HCeL6T-wI/AAAAAAAAAAU/RwebbPPaahI/s320/squatrackguy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know I'm not the only gym-goer with a blog that's written about gym stereotypes, but I'll bet I'm the only that's included himself:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me? I'm &lt;strong&gt;the bashful peacock&lt;/strong&gt;. I'm the guy that silently does all of his workouts, talking to other people as little as possible. Every chance I get I'll subtly sneak a quick peak at myself in the mirror and admire my "gains", hoping nobody notices.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966813781409167192-2737940739106720505?l=thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/feeds/2737940739106720505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966813781409167192&amp;postID=2737940739106720505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/2737940739106720505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966813781409167192/posts/default/2737940739106720505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebashfulpeacock.blogspot.com/2007/12/hey-these-weights-are-heavy.html' title='Hey! These weights are heavy!'/><author><name>McManjammas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15983573532288999222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8oppsiZ4Vek/R2HCeL6T-wI/AAAAAAAAAAU/RwebbPPaahI/s72-c/squatrackguy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
