<?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-15130791</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:05:37.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apple O'</title><subtitle type='html'>this is a fabulous funny blog of a teenage female geek. Very amusing, very fabulous, very.."cool"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113358707215427329</id><published>2005-12-02T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T21:17:52.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>popping pills and listening to strangers</title><content type='html'>My dad was giving me that look of such discomfort that I wanted to practically vomit and piss myself. Of course I knew what I did was wrong, and I was sorry. For some odd reason though, for dad that wasn't enough. I've been going to private school for my whole life. The uniforms have become a part of me, a part of me I despise with such animosity. Maybe that is why I try so hard to be incomparable with others. Or is it the exact opposite? Maybe I truly desire to be equaled with other people so I could "fit in". Either case, the uniforms are so goddamn ridiculous. Once I was talking to some kids from public school about how they wished they wanted to go to private school just because of the uniforms. What?! Yes, exactly what I was thinking too, "fucking retards". Anyway, back to the whole situation. Dad is now discussing what I have done with my mother. They leave the room we are currently in, go into their room, and shut the door. I'm sitting at the kitchen table leaning back in my chair staring at the cieling. It's one of those crappy cielings with the white bumpy shit on the surface.  Mom used to always tell me not to lean back in the chair because it could crack my head open, but at this point if I do I'm sure no one would mind. Mom and dad are speaking kind of quietly so I proceed into my room. I feel like getting high, but all the pills I had saved up for an occasion like this were confiscated by my parents. At this point I would probably kill someone for some sleeping pills,vicodin, and alcohol. Possibly even some weed. Ok scratch the weed, no where to smoke. But all those other ones for sure. I see my yearbook sticking out from under my bed. I have nothing else to do so I get down on my knees and decide to pull it out.  And guess what lucky gem is behind it? A bottle of glorius goodness with two pills left, and two pills of nyquil.&lt;br /&gt;       As I suddenly pop the pills in my mouth to fix my pill popping habit I hear yelling from the room next door. I could barely hear what the yelling is all about, so I press my ear up against the wall hoping in some gratification. Nothing. Just stupid mumbles with my name in between. Don't you hate that? When your parents are talking about you but you have no idea what it is about and the only thing you can hear out of the conversation is your own name? The name which they gave you. I'm sure you do, everyone does. Now I'm slouching on my bed, feeling pretty high. Why don't guys like me? Is it because I'm ugly or something. Is it because I'm not a slut? Because I totally am just no one knows it because I don't care to brag. Um. seriously. I almost fall in love with any guy who falls in love with me, just so I can be loved. Probably ridiculous but I think it's human nature almost. If someone loves you, and you are lonley, it feels good to be with them for a little bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113358707215427329?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113358707215427329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113358707215427329' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113358707215427329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113358707215427329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/12/popping-pills-and-listening-to.html' title='popping pills and listening to strangers'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113280021259826416</id><published>2005-11-23T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T18:43:32.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;i'm in a really fucking bad mood right now. I'm sitting in my room listening to fleetwood mac on full blast and i'm so angry I just feel like shooting something. And I think I may be in love with someone but thats not the point the point is i feel like shooting something because &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I feel like someone punched me in the stomach with a baseball bat and poured gasoline  down my throat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; OMG WHY DOES THIS SHIT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?! WHAT THE FUCK DOES SOMEONE THINK THAT IM JUST EASY TO FUCKING HURT OR WHAT? I FEEL LIKE VOMITTING UP MY INTESTINES! &lt;a href="mailto:W@HTASdjklfdsajfkl;dsj"&gt;W@HTASdjklfdsajfkl;dsj&lt;/a&gt; WTFDSjafkfdskajfl s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WHTA THE FUckvdsaldsoafjkdlsjfa  EAT MY SHIT YOU FUCKING CUNT FACE DOUCHE BAG. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Im going to go fucking rot in a corner and die. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113280021259826416?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113280021259826416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113280021259826416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113280021259826416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113280021259826416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-in-really-fucking-bad-mood-right.html' title=''/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113238953545258204</id><published>2005-11-18T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T00:38:55.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 on a joyride</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/1600/helloitsme4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/320/helloitsme4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/1600/Picture%2025.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I woke up this morning feeling uglier than ever&lt;/strong&gt;. I don't think I will ever look in the mirror and be satisfied with myself.  I miss waking up in the morning for a purpose. I used to have a purpose. He was my purpose. I would wake up every morning to my awful home life, but I knew if I just got out of bed, and got out the door I would see him, and he would make my day worth getting up for. I wish I felt like that again. I wish I had a someone who was worth getting out of bed for. &lt;strong&gt;Who made my stomach feel like plopping icecubes in cold pepsi&lt;/strong&gt; whenever I hear/think/or see him. He made my year worth living, and if he wasn't in my life during that time I probably wouldn't be here. I know that sounds very dramatic but it is true. During that time in my life I had nothing, and no one. I wish I was in love again. &lt;strong&gt;We used to sit in my room and stare at the blank white ceiling, and pretend that our lives were clean and spacious just like that blank ceiling.&lt;/strong&gt; Then we would see the floor and realize the floor was a more accurate look at our lives. Cluttered, unkempt, confusing, and almost not meaningful.  I have never loved anyone like that. I had never&lt;br /&gt;experienced that type of love. I wish I could taste it one more time. To be in love and to be loved back. I had never heard of such a thing until then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113238953545258204?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113238953545258204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113238953545258204' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113238953545258204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113238953545258204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/11/5-on-joyride.html' title='5 on a joyride'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113212073400187953</id><published>2005-11-15T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T21:58:54.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BUBBLE BATH</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/images/us/local/products/productsall/p199802b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" height="307" alt="" src="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/images/us/local/products/productsall/p199802b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/1600/Picture%208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/320/Picture%208.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I like taking bubble baths. In fact, I love taking bubble baths. Ever since I've been gracefully fucked with my disease I realized how much I love taking bubble baths. So this post is dedicated to my gnarly hair after taking a bubble bath---&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and being naked. Oh and bubble baths. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113212073400187953?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113212073400187953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113212073400187953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113212073400187953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113212073400187953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/11/bubble-bath.html' title='BUBBLE BATH'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113212024704331226</id><published>2005-11-15T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T21:50:47.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"FUCK" ON MY TOASTER THINGY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/1600/Picture%2012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/320/Picture%2012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/1600/Picture%2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/320/Picture%2011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/1600/Picture%2014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/320/Picture%2014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone wrote the word "fuck" on my toaster strudel.&lt;br /&gt;At first it pissed me off greatly, but after a while I realized who wrote "fuck", and realized they left me extra icing on the plate. So I throughly enjoyed eating it. *yes I do eat like a beast as seen in the photo above* But the filling burned my tounge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113212024704331226?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113212024704331226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113212024704331226' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113212024704331226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113212024704331226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/11/fuck-on-my-toaster-thingy.html' title='&quot;FUCK&quot; ON MY TOASTER THINGY!'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113175646377073691</id><published>2005-11-11T16:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T16:51:41.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wil Wheaton</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/wil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/wil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a few nights ago I was watching I LOVE THE 80's 3D and I noticed that Wil Wheaton was on it. Waaay to totally make me 1000 x more interested in it. Yes please do call me lame for having a massive crush on wil wheaton, please do. I have a massive massive admiration for wil wheaton, a very secret one too. Yes I know he's quite a few years ahead of me, married, and has kids. But that won't stop me from dreaming. His blog is totally awesome too. I lovvvvvve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MARRY ME WESLEY CRUSHER!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn i'm lame..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113175646377073691?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113175646377073691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113175646377073691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113175646377073691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113175646377073691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/11/wil-wheaton.html' title='Wil Wheaton'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113175597691529880</id><published>2005-11-11T16:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T16:39:36.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>peek-a-boo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/WTF2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/WTF2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Today was an awful day. I woke up feeling so stiff and so tired that I wanted to die. (not rly)&lt;/span&gt; School has become a huge obstacle lately. I feel awful. Tonight Is lala's birthday party. I don't think I'm going to be able to make it because of my crappy body. For those of you who don't know I have fibromyalgia and rhuematoid arthritis, as well as some disease *which I can't spell out because it is totally long and complicated and not fit for my brain* in my uterus. So basically I'm a total mess. My mom has been acting like a fucking banshee all day. I don't know what her deal is. Everytime I look at her the banshee kicks in. An another note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;MY DAD KEEPS ON DRINKING CHAI TEA!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I got some chai tea in September and my dad used all the tea bags. &lt;strong&gt;What a fucking metro.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113175597691529880?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113175597691529880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113175597691529880' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113175597691529880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113175597691529880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/11/peek-boo.html' title='peek-a-boo'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-113167163596787398</id><published>2005-11-10T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T17:13:55.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAAATT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.fredflare.com/images/products_zoom/750_1135.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.fredflare.com/images/products_zoom/750_1135.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Today was a rough day. I don't feel like blogging about it. Anyway I was doing some &lt;strong&gt;ONLINE SHOPPING&lt;/strong&gt; while I stumbled upon this gorgeous jem.&lt;/span&gt; "A perfect gift for gnome enthusiasts! This "gnovelty" kit comes w/ a small gnome, a faux lawn, 4 backdrops, 3 flowers and a SUPER book illustrating the fascinating history of the gnome!" This is definetly my kind of gift for the holidays. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A gnome kit!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds pretty...werid. But Look at this Gnome! His eyes look deadly, and &lt;strong&gt;that outfit..totally ripping off the smurfs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Anyway you guys can get it at &lt;a href="www.fredflare.com"&gt;fredflare.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-113167163596787398?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/113167163596787398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=113167163596787398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113167163596787398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/113167163596787398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/11/whaaatt.html' title='WHAAATT'/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-112615072141839502</id><published>2005-09-07T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-07T20:38:41.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/1600/courtneybarrera.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2944/1391/320/courtneybarrera.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-112615072141839502?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/112615072141839502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=112615072141839502' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/112615072141839502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/112615072141839502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15130791.post-112322033676624433</id><published>2005-08-04T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T22:38:56.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>first post.&lt;br /&gt;today really sucks serious ass. Mom pissed me off today. The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15130791-112322033676624433?l=hellocourtney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/feeds/112322033676624433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15130791&amp;postID=112322033676624433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/112322033676624433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15130791/posts/default/112322033676624433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hellocourtney.blogspot.com/2005/08/first-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Courtney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055972877286069869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/codenamejulia/COURTNEYg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
