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  <title>AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH</title>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 09 Feb 2007 23:26:11 GMT</pubDate>
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  <description>I think we need a blogocube.</description>
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  <pubDate>Tue, 23 Jan 2007 03:35:40 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Goodness gracious!</title>
  <link>http://malkith0.livejournal.com/9405.html</link>
  <description>When I&apos;m feeling in a masochistic mood, I like to read the comments on Youtube. I don&apos;t quite remember if this existed before its enormous explosion in popularity, but it seems as though I&apos;m completely incapable of looking through any comments on any videos without watching it turn into some sort of armchair debate between self-proclaimed experts, screaming about how many more gigagons the PS3 can render compared to the Wii in a video about puppies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to see what I mean, just look up any game trailer, Iraq video, news video, or really anything else out there. In fact, I&apos;d like to issue a challenge: Find me a Youtube video with at least 20 comments that aren&apos;t all completely retarded, or don&apos;t skew off into some angle that reminds me of a middle school debate club high on pixie sticks and crystal meth. No real prize beyond your own pride, but you&apos;ll help reinstate faith in humanity into a young cynic.</description>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 22 Nov 2006 15:34:17 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Spiral</title>
  <link>http://malkith0.livejournal.com/9155.html</link>
  <description>Occasionally, seemingly random ideas that I find inexplicably funny will wander into my mind. The most recent one that invaded me was the concept of former president Andrew Jackson striking a dashing pose with black powder pistol in one hand and a deck of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards in the other, saying, &quot;It&apos;s time to d-d-d-d-d-d-duel!&quot; Truly, this is either a sign that I&apos;ve been watching far too much of &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=LittleKuriboh&quot;&gt;The Abridged Series&lt;/a&gt;, or that dead presidents want to play children&apos;s card games with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, it&apos;s win-win. Part of me wants to ask some artist to draw it, though.</description>
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  <pubDate>Sat, 04 Nov 2006 01:38:40 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>B-b-b-borat</title>
  <link>http://malkith0.livejournal.com/8630.html</link>
  <description>If you enjoy comedy, have the time, and don&apos;t mind seeing naked bobbing Kazakhstani man-ass, you should go see Borat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. I rarely if ever go to view a film, and I&apos;m quite glad that Borat was one I actually bothered to watch. There was barely a scene that the theatre wasn&apos;t full of laughter over.</description>
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  <pubDate>Tue, 31 Oct 2006 08:34:57 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Story time.</title>
  <link>http://malkith0.livejournal.com/8339.html</link>
  <description>It&apos;s Halloween, so let me tell you a bit of a customer service horror story from back when I was working as a cashier at a grocery store a few months ago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s approaching noon on a weekday, which usually means that things will start to finally get busy in comparison to the usual morning customers which consisted of people buying coffee and newspapers. I was new and working in the express lane, so the sudden influx of customers meant that a large number of them would be going through my line. Two customers came up, a pair yet paying separately. They were both older Hispanic women, buying a few normal items each. The first one went just fine. I was polite, bagged her stuff, and when she paid and was given her receipt, she stood over to wait while I processed her friend. The second woman seemed to go along normally, right up until she had to pay. The order was only for a bit under $10, and I guess the lady works as a coffee machine part-time, because she started trying to pay me in chunks of quarters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me restate this: It&apos;s busy. I have about five people in my line, and a woman is trying to pay for her items by slowly counting out quarters and handing them to me. She would reach into her purse, slowly but surely fishing out a collection of four quarters to drop into my waiting, cupped hand. &quot;One dollar...&quot; More fishing around, and another small stack of clanging metal coins. &quot;Two dollar...&quot; I looked back at the customers who were patiently waiting as this play of sheer ridiculousness was going on before me, and I was an involuntary part of it. The folks kindly waiting managed to chuckle and smirk at me as I looked at them with a pleading face, their humored support resting my mind that one of them won&apos;t start screaming out of frustration. &lt;i&gt;They understand,&lt;/i&gt; I thought to myself. &lt;i&gt;There&apos;s absolutely nothing I can do besides stand here and wait.&lt;/i&gt; Slowly and surely, the older woman demonstrates her ability to count out quarters. &quot;Seven dollar...&quot; I start to smirk. I can&apos;t help it. My glances over to those waiting in line, and their amusement is contagious. I try my best to hold myself back. &quot;Eight dollar...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I snerk. Not a chuckle, mind you. More like air escaping my nose as I hold back laughter.&lt;br /&gt;She looks up at me and asks, &quot;What&apos;s wrong with you?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;What?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I hand you money and you laugh at me! What is wrong with you!?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Oh shit. &lt;/i&gt;&quot;N-no, I&apos;m sorry. I wasn&apos;t... it was about something else.&quot; I was caught off guard. So sue me that I wasn&apos;t able to come up with something good on the fly.&lt;br /&gt;The women continues to try and find out what exactly was was wrong with me, seeing past my pathetic lie. I desperately try damage control while she finally picks up the pace, handing me the last two stacks of quarters. I quickly process her, hand her receipt and change, and send her and her friend along the way. I should have apologized again, but at that point I just wanted her out of there lest a manager walk by and the woman gets the idea to complain about me. As she walks out the door and I process the man who had been waiting in line, the old woman looks back towards me and says, &quot;I&apos;m never shopping here again.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;I look back and say, &quot;O.K.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad service and control on my part, yes, but honestly? What would you have done?</description>
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