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	<title>Dishwaterblog&#039;s Blog</title>
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		<title>Another Milestone&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/07/09/another-milestone/</link>
		<comments>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/07/09/another-milestone/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 09 Jul 2011 16:40:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dishwaterblog</dc:creator>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/07/09/another-milestone/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Building a life outside of children. Being in the present is the most important thing. Children fly the coop even in &#8216;perfect settings&#8217; because it is the natural thing to do. I&#8217;ve watched twice, and now this third time as my youngest prepares to make his way outside of the household. An overwhelming sadness took [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=101&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Building a life outside of children. Being in the present is the most important thing. Children fly the coop  even in &#8216;perfect settings&#8217; because it is the natural thing to do. I&#8217;ve watched twice, and now this third time as my youngest prepares to make his way outside of the household. An overwhelming sadness took hold as I realized they are starting out while I am slowing down. Then I re-routed those thoughts and I&#8217;m doing better. Reaquaint myself with me. Discover new horizons in people, places, and things. This perhaps will be my final lesson to them: move forward in the present of things that are. Having fond rememberances come from living one&#8217;s life today,not just in the mind&#8217;s eye of how we wish it to be, but actually stepping out and doing it. That, in truth is all we have. Far too many times I did live in the mind and that is why I like to think that somehow I was an influence on my children to  really live their lives since each of them is so much more advanced than I was at their ages. My children are always in my heart whether the distance is small or great, so fly my young ones, fly.  I will watch you from the sky, as I will be there with you in my own adventures. I love each of you.</p>
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		<title>What&#8217;s In A Name?</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/07/06/whats-in-a-name/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 07 Jul 2011 01:36:10 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dishwaterblog</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Overheard a conversation as I went for snacks. The word &#8216;redneck&#8217; leapt out the door, stumbling out of the way in time for me to look up and see the person turn and glance before I continued on my trek. The rest of the walk I pondered the term and tone that came with the [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=98&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Overheard a conversation as I went for snacks. The word &#8216;redneck&#8217; leapt out the door, stumbling out of the way in time for me to look up and see the person turn and glance before I continued on my trek. The rest of the walk I pondered the term and tone that came with the brief encounter. When I thought about it, I smiled and sat back down to work. As I worked, I thought about all the males I see each day and figure should anything come about, more than half would either stand terrified until orderd to get on the floor or tuck tail and run. I see them everyday with their ipods, sandals, and just-below-the-knee shorts. Or perhaps they wear the latest basketball jersey or the nice khaki pants and button down shirts. Neither should we forget those who like to read the Wall Street Journal. I see them all in my line of work. And do you know who I&#8217;d rather be with should something happen? The ones who come in to do maintenance on the building. The ones who walk down the hall and smell like men who are working. The ones that make everything work, so that even the Information Technology people can do their jobs. The carpenters, the electricians, the plumbers, the workers that are blue collar. Yes, this is a blanket article of sorts, but then, isn&#8217;t that what the office guy throws each time he uses the term and tone as I heard today?</p>
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		<title>Independent thoughts&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/07/02/independent-thoughts/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Jul 2011 22:54:16 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dishwaterblog</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Two days till our country&#8217;s independence day celebration. Makes me wonder how free are we really anymore?  Each week there is talk of another law to &#8216;protect&#8217; in some manner. Yesterday I had two experiences that made me think. One was where a man was saying that he would wish the customer service representative that [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=93&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Two days till our country&#8217;s independence day celebration. Makes me wonder how free are we really anymore?  Each week there is talk of another law to &#8216;protect&#8217; in some manner. Yesterday I had two experiences that made me think. One was where a man was saying that he <em>would </em>wish the customer service representative that waited on him a happy 4th, but independence really didn&#8217;t   come until 1887. He does not realize, but his independence day has yet to arrive. The mindset is far more powerful than he understands. Perhaps someday, but I seriously doubt it. The other event was while listening to a call in show.  A listener made the statement how his ancestrial grandfather from Germany came to America and at age 17 fought with General George Washington. He went on to say that he was in a lineage of people who loved America and that he made it a daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly habit of saying as such; that there are a lot of people that are doing the same. I didn&#8217;t agree. He sounded like he would be older than me and I reasoned  no, no this is not true. If it were true, then our country would not be in the shape it is in today. This very hour,in fact. Were his grandfather from the George Washington era here today, I believe he would be so very ashamed of his granson , his people and with this nation for what we&#8217;ve, yes WE&#8217;VE allowed to happen. Their work was in vain. Shame. For shame.</p>
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		<title>Simple Sites. Are they really?</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/27/simple-sites-are-they-really/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 27 Jun 2011 21:40:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dishwaterblog</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Yesterday while looking at various sites I&#8217;ve frequented, I had a thought. Each want to simplify your life in some way, whether in money, clutter, or everyday living. When I began to really look at the site set up I noted how  it&#8217;s hard to manuever through. Some are a myriad of selling books, cds, [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=84&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Yesterday while looking at various sites I&#8217;ve frequented, I had a thought. Each want to simplify your life in some way, whether in money, clutter, or everyday living. When I began to really look at the site set up I noted how  it&#8217;s hard to manuever through. Some are a myriad of selling books, cds, etc. while others have so many catagories you become dizzy trying to scroll. With no offense to any, some of the ones I read are, <a href="http://www.flylady.net/">www.flylady.net</a> , <a href="http://www.livingonadime.com/">www.livingonadime.com</a> ,<a href="http://www.debt-proofliving.com/">www.debtproofliving.com</a> , <a href="http://www.daveramsey.com/">www.daveramsey.com</a> , &amp; down_to_earth.blogspot.com  , about a  retired Australian husband and wife living frugal. While I enjoy each of them, there are times that I step back and cut off for awhile. My mind spins with too much information and I don&#8217;t want to do anything. Most interestingly  is when I think back to my childhood. There were none of these people in my world and I made it just fine. Why? Because common sense ruled. I did not grow up in riches. Quite the opposite. The strange thing was, I always felt safe with my Mama at the helm. I instinctively knew that she would find a way. I can sit and write with total honesty, that while growing up I always had clothes to wear, food to eat, a house to sleep in, clean clothes, and utilities. Mama knew the correct priorities where money was concerned. I must confess that I haven&#8217;t been as consistent as she. Outside influences and the times could be an excuse. It isn&#8217;t. I&#8217;ve allowed it of my own free will. And I&#8217;m literally paying the price.All that to say, even though you can have great influences early on or   the worst experiences imaginable, at some point you and you alone are going to have to decide. Go to the sites and read till your heart&#8217;s content, but for your own sake,  make YOUR plan and don&#8217;t expect someone to magically appear and wave the wand . Read here and there. Glean the nuggets for your situation. It will all start to fall in place. Here a little, there a little it all adds up. Simple really is simple if we won&#8217;t make it complicated.</p>
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		<title>Sing in the shower&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/24/sing-in-the-shower/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 24 Jun 2011 22:51:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dishwaterblog</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[sing in the car, sing at church, with your friends, even sing in bed if you want, but please, PLEASE do not sing at your job. For good measure, let me also add dancing to that request. I&#8217;ve witnessed both and trust me, even with talent it does not add credibility to you. The only [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=80&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>sing in the car, sing at church, with your friends, even sing in bed if you want, but please, PLEASE do not sing at your job. For good measure, let me also add dancing to that request. I&#8217;ve witnessed both and trust me, even with talent it does not add credibility to you. The only exceptions, being if you are doing this AS your employment. The one that actually was the rudest to me was the dancing. When I ordered at a drive -in, the car hop stood on the sidewalk in front of my car and danced (complete with snapping fingers) exclaiming , &#8220;Oooh, that&#8217;s my SONG!&#8221; , as the previous customers backed out with their radio blaring.  Then I&#8217;ve experienced the singing down the corridor, at the desk with headphones, or simply with your buddy co-workers. Enough already. I just can&#8217;t imagine 50 or 60 years ago this would have been tolerated in the workplace. Another sign of the times. Whatever happened to a time and place for everything?</p>
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		<title>Worst form of recycling&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/worst-form-of-recycling/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 21:40:47 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Taking used glasses from supper, pouring off the liquid and then reusing the ice at the next meal. This actually happened according to my grandmother. She worked for a woman who ran a boardinghouse and watched her do it. If I know my Nanny, I bet she NEVER took a bite or drink while employed [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=74&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Taking used glasses from supper, pouring off the liquid and then reusing the ice at the next meal. This actually happened according to my grandmother. She worked for a woman who ran a boardinghouse and watched her do it. If I know my Nanny, I bet she NEVER took a bite or drink while employed at that job.</p>
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		<title>Blackeyed Peas &amp; Cornbread</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/14/blackeyed-peas-cornbread/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 14 Jun 2011 22:34:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dishwaterblog</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Sounds like the makings of a fine Southern meal doesn&#8217;t it? In another posting it very well could be, but not this time. Today&#8217;s post deals with the stark differences I noted from my previous writing. Recently, someone took a couple lines from the song &#8220;My Humps&#8221;(Black Eyed Peas)  while discussing an issue of weight. The [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=70&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sounds like the makings of a fine Southern meal doesn&#8217;t it? In another posting it very well could be, but not this time. Today&#8217;s post deals with the stark differences I noted from my previous writing.</p>
<p>Recently, someone took a couple lines from the song &#8220;My Humps&#8221;(Black Eyed Peas)  while discussing an issue of weight. The woman who delivered the lines did not recall (so she claimed) who actually sang it.  I knew. In my younger years with my teenagers in the house, I did listen to some of the stations that carried it. Regardless, I decided to google the song and make sure due to a doubting Thomas in the group. Here are parts of the song:</p>
<p>[Will.i.am]   Whatcha gonna do with all that junk</p>
<p>All that junk inside that trunk..   [Fergie] I&#8217;ma get get get get you drunk Get you love drunk off my hump&#8230;</p>
<p>If you want to read the rest , I found it at <a href="http://artists.letssingit.com/">http://artists.letssingit.com</a></p>
<p>When I read through the whole song it  pained me to think I listened to it and really liked the hypnotic effect it has through the music and rhythmic word flow.  I immediately thought about the contrast between these  young people (each 30 at the time of the song 2005 if the stats are correct) and the old gentleman who at HIS age of  thirty was watching his children grow. It isn&#8217;t that these two may not have families and not being current with &#8216;stars&#8217;, I don&#8217;t really know and really don&#8217;t care. My point is how far removed we&#8217;ve become in the last 50 + years. Recently when I visited the nursing home I noted how an old gentleman in spite of his shaking hands attempted to put his used napkin in a small container that I had used to discard the ones I had wiped my mother&#8217;s mouth with. He was ever so careful to seek out that little container and when I realized what he was trying to do, I pushed it towards him so he could accomplish his mission. Even now, he reaches back and retains the memories of manners. Folks, we have lost them for the most part. But, I have made myself be aware more and more and have determined, that as one individual I can do something about my own self. I hope that by doing so, I can remind someone else of long ago lessons.</p>
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		<title>Monday Reflections&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/06/monday-reflections/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Jun 2011 22:26:14 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Today I received the following as an e-mail. I think it speaks volumes of today&#8217;s world, not only in the context of the reading, but in general. The post is long, but worth the reading. Crabby Old Man When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte, Nebraska, [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=68&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Today I received the following as an e-mail. I think it speaks volumes of today&#8217;s world, not only in the context of the reading, but in general. The post is long, but worth the reading.</p>
<p>Crabby Old Man</p>
<p>When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte, Nebraska, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.</p>
<p>Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One murse took her copy to Missouri.</p>
<p>The old man&#8217;s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.</p>
<p>And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this &#8216;anonymous&#8217; poem winging across the Internet.</p>
<p>Crabby Old Man<br />
What do you see nurses?&#8230;..What do you see?<br />
What are you thinking&#8230;..when you&#8217;re looking at me?<br />
A crabby old man&#8230;..not very wise,<br />
Uncertain of habit&#8230;..with faraway eyes?</p>
<p>Who dribbles his food&#8230;..and makes no reply.<br />
When you say in a loud voice&#8230;..&#8217;I do wish you&#8217;d try!&#8217;<br />
Who seems not to notice&#8230;..the things that you do.<br />
And forever is losing&#8230;..A sock or shoe?</p>
<p>Who, resisting or not&#8230;..lets you do as you will,<br />
With bathing and feeding&#8230;..The long day to fill?<br />
Is that what you&#8217;re thinking?&#8230;..Is that what you see?<br />
then open your eyes, nurse&#8230;..you&#8217;re not looking at me.</p>
<p>I&#8217;ll tell you who I am&#8230;..As I sit here so still,<br />
As I do at your bidding&#8230;..as I eat at your will.<br />
I&#8217;m a small child of Ten&#8230;..with a father and mother,<br />
Brothers and sisters&#8230;..who love one another.</p>
<p>A young boy of Sixteen&#8230;..with wings on his feet.<br />
Dreaming that soon now&#8230;..a lover he&#8217;ll meet.<br />
A groom soon at Twenty&#8230;..my heart gives a leap.<br />
Remembering, the vows&#8230;..that I promised to keep.</p>
<p>At Twenty-Five, now&#8230;..I have young of my own.<br />
Who need me to guide&#8230;..And a secure happy home.<br />
A man of Thirty&#8230;..My young now grown fast,<br />
Bound to each other&#8230;..With ties that should last.</p>
<p>At Forty, my young sons&#8230;..have grown and are gone,<br />
But my womans&#8217;s beside me&#8230;..to see I don&#8217;t mourn.<br />
At Fifty, once more, babies play &#8217;round my knee,<br />
Again, we know children&#8230;..My loved one and me.</p>
<p>Dark days are upon me&#8230;..my wife is now dead.<br />
I look at the future&#8230;..shudder with dread.<br />
For my young are all rearing&#8230;..young of their own.<br />
And I think of the years&#8230;..and the love that I&#8217;ve known.</p>
<p>I&#8217;m now an old man&#8230;..and nature is cruel.<br />
&#8216;Tis jest to make old age&#8230;..look like a fool.<br />
The body, it crumbles&#8230;..grace and vigor, depart.<br />
There is now a stone&#8230;..where I once had a heart.</p>
<p>But inside this old carcass&#8230;..a young guy still dwells,<br />
And now and again&#8230;..my battered heart swells.<br />
I remember the joys&#8230;..I remember the pain.<br />
And I&#8217;m loving and living&#8230;..life over again.</p>
<p>I think of the years, all too few&#8230;..gone too fast.<br />
And accept the stark fact&#8230;.that nothing can last.<br />
So open your eyes, people&#8230;..open and see.<br />
Not a crabby old man&#8230;Look closer&#8230;see ME!!</p>
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		<title>Worse words&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/03/worse-words/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 04 Jun 2011 00:40:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Still on the words folks. Today while on break, I watched a portion of the old/new version of &#8220;Let&#8217;s Make A Deal&#8221;. One of the contestants had a choice between a box or cur&#8217; in. A what? A cur&#8217; in. Guessed it yet? Drum roll please&#8230;and the word is CURTAIN. The most disheartening issue here [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=64&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Still on the words folks. Today while on break, I watched a portion of the old/new version of &#8220;Let&#8217;s Make A Deal&#8221;. One of the contestants had a choice between a box or cur&#8217; in.  A what? A cur&#8217; in. Guessed it yet? Drum roll please&#8230;and the word is CURTAIN. The most disheartening issue here is when the host asked what her profession was as they small talked about the decision. She is a TEACHER. Yes, I know. I was thinking the same thing&#8230;  .</p>
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		<title>No song, no poem&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://dishwaterblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/01/no-song-no-poem/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 02 Jun 2011 00:53:01 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[sewing no&#8230;not even art. Having read my blog from beginning to present, it is clear I haven&#8217;t been  consistent. Creativity is there, peeking through every chance and whispering to me as I go through my days. I just think it and then keep moving. I   manage to do some of  the stuff, just not on the original [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=dishwaterblog.wordpress.com&amp;blog=11788065&amp;post=60&amp;subd=dishwaterblog&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>sewing no&#8230;not even art. Having read my blog from beginning to present, it is clear I haven&#8217;t been  consistent. Creativity is there, peeking through every chance and whispering to me as I go through my days. I just think it and then keep moving. I   manage to do some of  the stuff, just not on the original timetable I set! It was really calling me on Memorial Day as I browsed the bookstore. I even managed to get some ideas for recycling stuff into art from the trip. I still haven&#8217;t taken the sewing machine from its box, but I have bought a dress pattern. I really need a sewing table though&#8230; <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' />  Well, all in good time. </p>
<p> My current thoughts have been in the usage of words. Today&#8217;s words to be exact. This morning while driving to work, the local radio station was interviewing Steve Stockman, who wrote    &#8221;How To Shoot Video That Doesn&#8217;t Suck.&#8221;  I was immediately put off by the last word, but decided to listen. After work I went to the site and I will say I  like some of his tips. However, something tells me there are enough words in the English language to have brought about a better sounding ending to the title. Suck, AWESOME, good job, etc etc etc are all very annoying to me. When I watch movies that actually have what I deem to be real language I&#8217;m so much more satisfied with the content, even if the film critics rule it boring or worse. &#8221;Gone With The Wind&#8221; did us no favors by introducing. &#8217;real life language&#8217; at the end. But then, it didn&#8217;t portray the people of the South in a real way either, so why am I surprised? I&#8217;m not.</p>
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