<?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-6085426</id><updated>2011-04-22T00:07:33.795-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorting Through DiMess</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Glimpses at a convoluted thought process(or more then one), (caught in stories, rants, and attempts at daily updates) in an attempt to sort through DiMess and reach what's underneath it all.&lt;/em&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-10811726556710830</id><published>2004-04-05T09:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-05T09:47:59.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Worth Twice As Much Even at a Quarter The Vice</title><summary type='text'>  I am not known for my abilities to do anything with consistency, as long as you don't count being inconsistent or rythm-based activities. And although that may not be a statement based on what we call "facts", I stand by it because I think it sounds cool and it sets up my next little bit of typestry.   Doing something consistently in life looks hard enough, from where I'm sitting, to keep me </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/10811726556710830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/10811726556710830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_04_05_archive.html#10811726556710830' title='Worth Twice As Much Even at a Quarter The Vice'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-108077290402519183</id><published>2004-03-31T17:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-31T17:59:13.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another "Fare Thee Well In The Next Dimension...."</title><summary type='text'>     Hey there and hello to you, glad you made it, please have a seat and a drink. Good.   I'll let you settle in for a second, don't worry, take a breath or four. I suppose you have heard the bad news concerning Douglas Henriksen, most likely having ben reffered to my site from his newly formed Celebretion Of Life. What? No, the astigmatism makes me irony blind. But if perhaps you are that ine</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/108077290402519183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/108077290402519183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_31_archive.html#108077290402519183' title='Another &quot;Fare Thee Well In The Next Dimension....&quot;'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107996586880833574</id><published>2004-03-22T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-22T09:40:15.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I went on my night time dream cycle.</title><summary type='text'>I have always suspected certain people channel their ideas from some place other then their minds. Prolific writers like King, who writes books in the time it takes some adults to read them. H.R.Giger, places and textures that he created, or Clive Barker, or a number of other extremely prolific artists and such that occaisionally let slip that they accomplished their great work in a day, and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107996586880833574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107996586880833574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_22_archive.html#107996586880833574' title='Where I went on my night time dream cycle.'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107942479237021578</id><published>2004-03-16T03:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-16T03:16:28.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vivisectional Lazyboy</title><summary type='text'>  You won't believe what happened. I still don't really.  Remember when Tony was finally having that romantic dinner with Angella?  Well, substitute the romance for a drinking night with my best friend, and you get the idea.  Sever abdomimal pain, high fever, and you guessed it, all brought on by acute appendicitus. All ending with me in the ER and then off to the OR of MGH for an emergency </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107942479237021578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107942479237021578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_16_archive.html#107942479237021578' title='Vivisectional Lazyboy'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107856715931590677</id><published>2004-03-06T04:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-06T05:02:21.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankfully It's Not ALL Relative</title><summary type='text'>Relative Measurements:1 bit= 2 pinches= 1 slap accross the face= 1 flirtatious encounter1 smidgen= 4 bits= 1 punch in the stomach= 1 hot suggestion1 dollop= 2 smidgens= 1 kick to the knee= 1 person I hope I get to meet1 gaggle= 3 dollops= 1 knee to the groin= 2 minute warning before I cum1 gaggle= 2 glugs= 3 nights ago= 4 swallowed annonymous loads1 blanket= 2 glugs= 4 lays </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107856715931590677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107856715931590677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_06_archive.html#107856715931590677' title='Thankfully It&apos;s Not ALL Relative'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107856691695234281</id><published>2004-03-06T04:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-06T04:58:19.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Loopy</title><summary type='text'>Let's talk about the loops we find in our lives. Or, more accurately, I'll write about the loops in my life, and then I will read it twice in order to feel like I am getting my loopy message out amoungst the good people of the WWW.After a few moments thought, I have decided that overall, and am one of those who would support an Anti-Loop campaigne. Though any campaigne such as that I would only</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107856691695234281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107856691695234281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_06_archive.html#107856691695234281' title='Loopy'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107856184193609467</id><published>2004-03-06T03:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-06T03:33:44.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not  So Innocent Bystanders</title><summary type='text'>Not  So Innocent BystandersThere once was this guy with an odd glareWho if bothered would tell you to go whereAll flora did wiltAs fauna he kiltFor his life he'd perceived had been un-fairHe felt justified as mayhem he did sowAs people looked on with their heads lowFor what could they do?Of his pain they all knewBut not one of their group could have said soHis tribulations were </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107856184193609467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107856184193609467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_06_archive.html#107856184193609467' title='Not  So Innocent Bystanders'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107840092754341238</id><published>2004-03-04T06:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-04T06:51:47.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Experiment</title><summary type='text'>This Is My New Home Page, I'm trying it out for shits and giggles....it just links back here so far, but I'm learning.....</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107840092754341238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107840092754341238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_04_archive.html#107840092754341238' title='Experiment'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107838297793471438</id><published>2004-03-04T01:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-04T01:52:37.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some more on an issue that is already beaten like a deceased equine beyond reason....</title><summary type='text'>The article from Boston.com that I'm linking there is overall just a view of the current state of the same-sex marriage debate. I had to send a little reply into them though, when the Reveran in the article was quoted like he has some a researched opinion. And from the context and other surrounding clues, it's not hard to say that he doesn't have anything to back his thoughts up with, he just </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107838297793471438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107838297793471438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_03_04_archive.html#107838297793471438' title='Some more on an issue that is already beaten like a deceased equine beyond reason....'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107749146409102402</id><published>2004-02-22T18:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-22T18:13:49.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Type On</title><summary type='text'>I thought I would just give a little shout out to  John . Although, I think it's more typing than shouting, and more on(because it's on-line) than out. So I guess I am giving John and his cool site a Type-On, a phrase which I coin now, unless I already thought of it and coined it then, in which case I bill the phrase.  I am also going to once again use this for shameless self promotion by asking</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107749146409102402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107749146409102402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_02_22_archive.html#107749146409102402' title='Type On'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107726836370305636</id><published>2004-02-20T04:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-20T04:15:25.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Close Your Eyes, Find Your Happy Place, And Touch It, Quick...</title><summary type='text'>   I've been back for two weeks now, and just haven't been able to post here, and now I am seeing why. I was avoiding the energy of my last post. I've oly just realized this, so I came as quick as I could. Then I balled that sock up and threw it on the pile in the corner, and took the keyboard in hands that were just happy not to be clenched around either side of the inside out tube sock. So here</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107726836370305636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107726836370305636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_02_20_archive.html#107726836370305636' title='Close Your Eyes, Find Your Happy Place, And Touch It, Quick...'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107337916091870910</id><published>2004-01-06T03:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-06T03:52:59.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know...</title><summary type='text'>...how I am supposed to react anymore, although, truth be told, I never really did.  You(meaning me) want the reaction,(if you(me again) have one, to really bad news), to be sincere, without detracting attention from the events or the poeple involved.  You want to let those around you know that you're not lifeless, that you're not emotionally dead or desensitized to trauma, and possibly share </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107337916091870910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107337916091870910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2004_01_06_archive.html#107337916091870910' title='I don&apos;t know...'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107260561729573405</id><published>2003-12-28T05:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-28T05:00:34.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>riiiiiiiiiiiight</title><summary type='text'>apparently this is who I am in a Tolkien skeem of things....Congratulations! You're Legolas! Which Lord of the Rings character and personality problem are you? brought to you by Quizilla</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107260561729573405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107260561729573405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107260561729573405' title='riiiiiiiiiiiight'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107141548881723208</id><published>2003-12-14T10:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-14T10:43:44.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Demons Are A Girl's Best Friend</title><summary type='text'>   "Demons are a girls best Friend", is the mantra of one certain woman writer, and s what motivate's her to investigate everything to sniff out the more interesting lies, and conversely also inspires her to know exactly how to make up her own lies just to have the most interesting scoop. The saying inspires her because someone with an accent mangled the sagely spoken truism soon after it's </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107141548881723208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107141548881723208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107141548881723208' title='Demons Are A Girl&apos;s Best Friend'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107120466145265495</id><published>2003-12-11T23:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T23:51:13.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Try This</title><summary type='text'>Just found this, which is awesome, and I found it because I have been all day on this site. It's like a game and more, seriously fun, and helps to promote sites you like.I want to write more, just too tired, will say that Family Guy is coming back in 2005, almost a sure thing, and that rocks my crotch...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107120466145265495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107120466145265495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_12_11_archive.html#107120466145265495' title='Try This'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107099645824784492</id><published>2003-12-09T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T23:46:24.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Just In:</title><summary type='text'>8 Alcohol Enthusiasts Trapped When Mime CollapsesBeacon Hill, Boston- Though barely intellible, several cell phone calls have come into this Newscenter, reporting, as far as we can decipher, that 8 patrons of the beantown bar, Caroline’s, are trapped and fighting for their lives within it’s walls. Details are slowly coming in, all seeming to verify that Caroline’s, a well hidden, ecclectic, “</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107099645824784492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107099645824784492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_12_09_archive.html#107099645824784492' title='This Just In:'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107024428746132483</id><published>2003-11-30T21:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T23:46:49.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A longwinded Evening Post</title><summary type='text'>        My really amazing friend in skin-tight silver leather outfit and magical insult-proof cape has taken time out of her busy schedule of fighting crime at night in meanest and bitchiest of alleys and inner city networks of the worlds most dangerous and sexy cities has been working hard at things to benifit the greater good of man, of course, starting at Newshax. She has fearlessly used her </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107024428746132483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107024428746132483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_30_archive.html#107024428746132483' title='A longwinded Evening Post'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107016702566605727</id><published>2003-11-29T23:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T23:45:32.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who in the HELL do they think they are?</title><summary type='text'>    I was on Boston.com a couple hours ago, and I saw an article about Catholic Bishops calling the new SJC ruling on marriages an American tragedy, which affected me more then something like this usually does. I had to write to Boston.com and say something about it, though I know they were just reporting on it. I'm posting it here, because I don't really want that to be the end of it, I want my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107016702566605727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107016702566605727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_29_archive.html#107016702566605727' title='&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who in the HELL do they think they are?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-107008548687522403</id><published>2003-11-29T00:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T23:47:19.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates on stuff</title><summary type='text'> In the well traversed setting of the Boston bar scene I spent my wednesday night this week, which, as it happens, was the night before thanksgiving.  Two co-workers who are fast becomming friends and I had drinks and light conversation that produced, from out of no-where, one of the most moving compliments I have recieved in ages.   My friend Matt described my work and myself as functional, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107008548687522403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/107008548687522403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_29_archive.html#107008548687522403' title='Updates on stuff'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106973718788860406</id><published>2003-11-25T00:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-25T00:13:16.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Latest From A Late Night With DiMess...</title><summary type='text'>Dare To Report Current Events HERE!Current Events Update:12:20am Tuesday November 25Location:My House   According to what I have just told me, about 3 hours ago my roomate went into his room and closed the door, and so far hasn't come back out. The snoring that I have just been informed by myself I have been hearing coming from his room began approximately 3 hours ago.  At the same time </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106973718788860406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106973718788860406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_25_archive.html#106973718788860406' title='The Latest From A Late Night With DiMess...'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106968388217895801</id><published>2003-11-24T09:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-24T09:33:50.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Side Busting Laughter Far From The "Best" Medicine...</title><summary type='text'>There is a semi-perverse pleasure, some say, that follows the act of making someone else smile or laugh. That is very much the reason I make myself laugh so much, the multi-faceted aspects of experiencing several levels of self pleasing stimuli are kindof an existential masturbation.   And for a while, that was all I wanted or knew. Amusing myself to the heights of ecstacy, and not caring that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106968388217895801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106968388217895801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_24_archive.html#106968388217895801' title='Side Busting Laughter Far From The &quot;Best&quot; Medicine...'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106956340978766005</id><published>2003-11-22T23:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-23T04:07:58.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Real Fictional Me, Un-Plugged And In-Imagined-Depth</title><summary type='text'>A friend sent me a questionare she had filled out for an online dating service(or maybe one she hadn't filled out, but someone had filled out for her, I can't remember), but I would not ever post her answers here(especially since she knows about this site and reads it). Bu-u-u-t... I filled out the questions, except I decided to not answer with what I know people ecpect or want to hear, no no no,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106956340978766005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106956340978766005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_22_archive.html#106956340978766005' title='The Real Fictional Me, Un-Plugged And In-Imagined-Depth'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106917586203727663</id><published>2003-11-18T12:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-18T12:17:48.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Massachusetts high court rules that a ban on same-sex marriage is unconstitutional.</title><summary type='text'>Massachusetts high court rules that a ban on same-sex marriage is unconstitutional.That's all I need to say today, fucking FIERCE FOR US!Totally wasn't expecting to wake up and hear something that would make me feel this giddy and empowered and happy.Now let's see how the laws are changed, and the state has 180 days to do that.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106917586203727663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106917586203727663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_18_archive.html#106917586203727663' title='Massachusetts high court rules that a ban on same-sex marriage is unconstitutional.'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106909972449941161</id><published>2003-11-17T17:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-17T18:55:20.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>  NewsHax is showing some signs that it may be gaining some momentum towards its next stage in developement, and I am all for that shit going down bro, no lie. I can't be specific, not only because the kinks aren't worked out yet, but also because I don't want to jinx it, but I think it's really gonna take off and be great(and I am going to stick to that positive future hope and concept, and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106909972449941161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106909972449941161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_17_archive.html#106909972449941161' title=''/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106904979230653818</id><published>2003-11-17T01:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-17T01:16:38.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Expiration Dates On Bottled Up Emotions</title><summary type='text'>  You know it's bad when the people at work are commenting about my usuall eratic but overall perky and optimistic personality slowly, over the past two weeks, becomming more eratic and less able to contain any of my previously well hidden increased feelings of aggrevation towards the GM and his underhanded/queeny/passive aggresive ways. I managed to ease it off and make do with drinking and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106904979230653818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106904979230653818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_17_archive.html#106904979230653818' title='No Expiration Dates On Bottled Up Emotions'/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106897779669354343</id><published>2003-11-16T05:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-16T05:16:41.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>   I found a profile the other day, that caught my attention, as I was browsing various means of meeting other fine young men online. The pics were beautifully airbrushed, and the depth of the writing style with which he described himself and what he desired certainly were out of the ordinary. He sent anyone viewing his profile off with this message: Make Email Good.From this last departing </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106897779669354343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106897779669354343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_16_archive.html#106897779669354343' title=''/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6085426.post-106896663826777237</id><published>2003-11-16T02:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-11-16T02:10:44.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>  There are many things I want to do on this blog, but one thing I won't do is apologize for DiMess. You found your way here, so deal with DiMess and all the oxymoronic things that make me, and laugh with releif that you don't have to do any of the picking up afterwards. So, as you figured out, I am DiMess, more or less.  I'm sure more about me will easily be gleaned as I post whatever stories </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106896663826777237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6085426/posts/default/106896663826777237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sortingthroughdimess.blogspot.com/2003_11_16_archive.html#106896663826777237' title=''/><author><name>A-Fierce-Nouncer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17034893865533397586</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></entry></feed>
