<?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-3987750056284769764</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:47:22.039-08:00</updated><category term='Hot or Not'/><category term='My Life'/><category term='Twitter'/><category term='People on the Street'/><category term='School Work'/><category term='Just Because...'/><category term='Celebrating Friendships'/><category term='Observations'/><title type='text'>I'll have a #3, DeLuxxe Sized</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-7281239412358957121</id><published>2010-10-15T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T08:46:49.653-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Observations'/><title type='text'>I'm Back</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm trying to come back. Hopefully, this return isn't like Michael Jordan's return to the Washington Wizards. Which since we're on the subject, is it me or shouldn't the NBA disband? Don't get me wrong, there's nothing I like more than referees single-handedly determining the outcomes of a few games every night. However, the NBA is tired. Case in point, Lebron James.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-7281239412358957121?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/7281239412358957121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=7281239412358957121' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7281239412358957121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7281239412358957121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-375625677294648332</id><published>2009-07-06T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T10:50:55.935-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School Work'/><title type='text'>Simplify and Enrich, Twitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;* I’m just sitting down to write my English Paper. (about a minute ago)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I graduated from college and began my career, life has been crazy.  I find myself missing my friends, but when I get home from work I don’t have the strength to call them and see how they’re doing.  Life seems so complex these days, and without anyone to reminisce with, sometimes I don’t know how I will remember my college days.  Life was so vivid then, spending time with people every night, and learning new things that I never thought I would know.  It was great being able to have conversations with friends whose interests were different than mine.  But now, my life seems so bland and empty—except for my wife and kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*Just wondering how anyone could think Purple was more of a royal color than “Royal Blue.” The word “Royal” is in the description. (about 2 hours ago)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my life changed last week—I found Twitter. We are so fortunate that we finally have a way of looking in on our friends.  It’s so convenient that my friends don’t even need to be bothered by knowing how often I am looking in on what they’re doing.  It’s great, some of my friends are so good at “tweeting” that I finally know their physical location at all times.  For far too long, people believed that their private lives were meant to be private.  When someone’s life is private you can’t access it, you have no idea how they’re doing.  Before Twitter came around, there was no way of knowing how friends were doing, or what they were up to.  Some people would say, “You could call them.” But really who has the time for that? Today, people don’t have time to call on a whim, there’s just not enough time to fool around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; *@Mark: I disagree, The Office is second, Fawlty Towers is the best BBC comedy ever, hands down. (about 4 hours ago)* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; For those of you who may not be familiar with Twitter, I’ll show you how simple it is to use. Also, I will dispel some myths you’ve probably heard about Twitter.  First, the only thing you need is an email address. Go to Twitter.com and follow the simple process for registering; basically, you just need to input your full name, a username, and a valid email address.    The next step is probably my favorite. They ask for the password to your email address—don’t worry, it’s not to hack you (LOL)—they pull out of your email account the saved email addresses, and they tell you who is already on Twitter.  Then, with the rest of the email addresses in your account, they ask you if you want to invite this person to Twitter.  How awesome is that? There were so many old emails from people I hadn’t thought about in years.  There were a bunch of people from group projects, I didn’t even know their names, but it was interesting to see what they were up to. I sent invitations to professors I never even really talked to, just submitted papers to, via email.  I sent a ton of Twitter-vites out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*Driving home from work, finally I’m now going 55 mph, there was a wreck on I-15, around Sandy. (about 5 hours ago)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another great thing about Twitter, you can find people you’ve never emailed.  There are people from my past I think about a lot, but never emailed, and I’ve been able to find them on Twitter.  I found my ex-girlfriend on there.  We haven’t talked for ten years; it was interesting to read about what she’s been up to, and to look at her profile picture.  I also found most of the members of the high school student body council from my senior year, everything seems really positive in their lives. It’s amazing that even in these financially tough times, they’re all doing really well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*Yeah, I have the app on my B’berry, I can post updates anytime. (10:30 AM July 1)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the awesome things about Twitter is I can read other people’s tweets, then post my own responses, on my Blackberry.  The great thing about having Twitter on your phone is that whenever you have some down time you can stay in contact, instead of waiting until you get home to get to your computer.  I work 35 miles away from my house, so sometimes during rush hour my commute can take quite a while, especially when there are accidents.  Most days I’ll keep up with my friends while I’m driving home from work.  It’s so nice, I used to be so bored driving home, but now I’ll interact with a bunch of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*Feel bad for Jim, because his brother, Dan, got arrested during a police sting at a massage parlor. (12:51 AM July 1)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to some people, there are downsides to Twitter which they label as “scary.”  These people either don’t truly understand twittering, or are simply paranoid.  I kept trying to get a friend of mine at the office to join Twitter, but he kept saying he was afraid of putting his private life on the Internet.  I laughed and said, “What are you hiding?”  He said something about possible employers could look up your Twitter page, which could hurt your chances for getting hired.  I told him there wasn’t anything to be concerned with, even if an employer looked on your Twitter page, it would be fine.  Everyone understands that you may have a friend or two who will leave you crude or insensitive remarks from time to time.  Because they understand that they won’t judge you for it, especially because you didn’t Twitter it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*@Spike: I’ll burn you a copy, what’s your mailing address? (3:30 PM 30 June)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another friend of mine, who works for the police station, asked me if I knew the police had arrested people because of their Twitter pages.  I told them I’m not doing anything illegal so what does that have to do with me.  Don’t people understand that there are going to be a few bad people out there, trying to ruin it for everyone else? It bothers me that just because some people do things that get them in trouble on Twitter, that Twitter takes the blame.  Horrible things happen everywhere, but we don’t blame the building, or park.  You’re going to find people everywhere who try to rain on your parade.  Sometimes I think people have a hard time leaving people alone, and letting them live their own lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*I’m eating dinner with my wife and kids. Traci made a great dinner. (6:15 PM June 29)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twitter is awesome! It has enriched my life.  I have been able to catch up with so many of my friends that I hadn’t spoken with—some for years.  I recommend Twitter to anyone who wants to keep up with friends and add a little excitement to their day.  Also, don’t listen to those people who make it sound like Twitter will stop you from getting jobs, or loans.  Do you think that Twitter would be as popular as it is if that were the case?  Be smart, don’t write things that will get you in trouble.  Visit Twitter.com, sign up, and start living!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Vacuuming my living room. (7:30 PM June 28)*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-375625677294648332?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/375625677294648332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=375625677294648332' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/375625677294648332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/375625677294648332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2009/07/simplify-and-enrich-twitter.html' title='Simplify and Enrich, Twitter'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-2105020545909122663</id><published>2009-03-19T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T07:36:34.378-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Life'/><title type='text'>Danny Pilkington</title><content type='html'>I fear I may be turning into Karl Pilkington.  Each Wednesday, I have a class from 5-7:40, in the basement of BYU's JFSB.  I don't get reception on the cell in the basement and so when I had a break during class last night, I decided to go outside to get reception.  As I walked outside I had the thought, "Wow, this is a perfect day.  I wished I smoked so I'd get outside more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How burned out is my mind that I decide smoking would be a good way to catch a little sun?  I'm a bit worried about the connections my mind seems to be making these days.  I wish I could say this was a joke, but I truly had that thought.  This isn't the first thought I've had lately which left me questioning my own sanity.  I think some of this thought process can be directly linked to my just finishing the entire catalog of the Ricky Gervais Show (Podcast), for about the tenth time.  Please don't report this to Mensa; I don't want a long drawn out investigation, which ultimately sees me losing my membership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have a question who Karl Pilkington is, this is a good intro:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pJqHOOWXB5Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pJqHOOWXB5Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-2105020545909122663?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/2105020545909122663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=2105020545909122663' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/2105020545909122663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/2105020545909122663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2009/03/danny-pilkington.html' title='Danny Pilkington'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-353099887483881992</id><published>2009-03-16T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T20:43:09.246-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Life'/><title type='text'>Uniform</title><content type='html'>So as many of you may know, my scholastic endeavors have been far more fruitful since I married Traci.  So I thought about writing a blog about it to thank her.  But then I realized I should put things in perspective by giving thanks where it is most deserved.  While Traci has been around much of the time to see me writing papers, reading, or taking tests, another force has been there every step of the way.  Each day, after work, I find myself trying to completely change my mindset.  The type of thinking needed at work and at school are entirely different.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much like as Pee Wee Herman wakes up and slides down the fire pole, as I walk through our front door my work clothes disappear and my "uniform" is already on me.  My uniform consists of a Maple Leafs long sleeve shirt, and Maple Leaf pajama bottoms (both Christmas gifts from my mom).  With the help of my uniform I have read some of the most incredible works of literature, including: Shakespeare's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;King Lear&lt;/span&gt;, Donne's Holy Sonnets, and Dostoevsky's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Notes from the Underground&lt;/span&gt;.  My uniform refuses to be a part of the reading of Danielle Steel novels or &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Twilight&lt;/span&gt;; fortunately for our working relationship, we are of one accord on this topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in closing, thank you uniform, I owe you so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/Sb8a1uVEeYI/AAAAAAAAAC4/o5yXf5TXL28/s1600-h/Uniform.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/Sb8a1uVEeYI/AAAAAAAAAC4/o5yXf5TXL28/s400/Uniform.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313995595592268162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-353099887483881992?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/353099887483881992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=353099887483881992' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/353099887483881992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/353099887483881992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2009/03/uniform.html' title='Uniform'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/Sb8a1uVEeYI/AAAAAAAAAC4/o5yXf5TXL28/s72-c/Uniform.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-7718442642326296368</id><published>2009-03-12T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T18:27:27.662-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School Work'/><title type='text'>JoUrinal</title><content type='html'>I have had a lot of requests for this paper, because I had to conduct a survey for it, and those people wanted to see how it turned out.  Knowing I'm lazy and forgetful, I decided to just throw it onto a blog and so anyone could read it at any time.  It is a little long, but it was a final paper.  Going into this final paper, I had earned a B, but the teacher enjoyed the paper so much, it pulled me up to an A-.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to apologize right now; I know some of you have read the subject matter and believe/hope this will be vulgar, unfortunately it is not vulgar.  This was written for English 391 at BYU, so it was written with education in mind. Enjoy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rules of Urinal Usage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        The greatest teaching opportunities come from the times of greatest awkwardness and vulnerability. One single place causes more vulnerability, and awkwardness, than any other.  Talk of bathrooms receive gasps, or giggles, depending on the audience.  For men and boys, especially, the bathroom can take on a new sense of vulnerability.  From these circumstances of vulnerability, and awkwardness, came some of the strongest rules in male culture.  Because the rules of urinal usage bring comfort into the lives of men, and help them avoid awkward situations, the rules continue to be adhered to today. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;        When bathroom stories are told, the situation seems to always show the vulnerability of the person in the story.  In Gabrielle Hansen’s folklore project “Missionary Bathroom Stories,” Hansen says, “This being the case, the cramps seem to be accompanied by a feeling of helplessness."  This feeling of helplessness typifies the struggle that people go through every day in public bathrooms.   However, there are differences of vulnerability between missionaries unable to get to the bathroom, and men at a urinal.  The physical difference is the difference between internal and external conflict.  However, the folklore aspects are completely different.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;        As returned missionaries, mostly South American missionaries, begin telling mission bathroom stories, they are marked by an obvious one-upping quality.  As Hansen says, “It appears that there is no purpose other than ‘one-upping.’”  Quite to the contrary, the rules which have been created, and adhered to by men for decades, have a variety of purposes.  These rules organize, reassure, and give comfort to men in a situation of great vulnerability; the necessary usage of public restrooms.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;        Interestingly, no manual exists to teach men the rules of urinal usage.  Mothers usually don’t understand what happens in a men’s restroom, so they are not able to teach their sons. Where, and how, are these rules found in society?  When I asked people where they learned these rules, I got some interesting answers.  My friend, Tory Schoonmaker, told me, “They are never really told to you, you are born with these rules instilled into your mind.” &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;        The magnitude of the urinal usage, within folklore, seems to be overflowing.  In the United States, an entire set of rules exist; a set of rules without a rulebook, an authority, or a ruling body to enforce these rules.  Also, there is no formal teaching of these rules; yet, a universal set of rules seems to exist.  These rules have been passed by word of mouth, but people won’t even admit this.  No one tells where they learned these lessons.  The closest thing we find is parents teaching their kids how to use the bathroom; wash your hands, and put the seat down.  But an entire culture exists out there, and they don’t even know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        No single feeling exists to describe the mental state of men when using a public restroom.  Because the bathroom is so “off-limits,” many men find the restrooms at work to be an asylum from the outside.  At the Home Depot in Provo, Utah, the men’s bathroom has adopted a mascot.  The Doo Doo Goblin (see Appendix 1) resides in the second stall of the men’s bathroom.  One day he appeared, a couple days later he was gone.  However, the day after he was removed he returned; evolved (new forms included knights, business man, or the Doo Doo Monster, all of which were doo doo dressed up).  A single employee at the Home Depot seems to have created the mascot, and due to overwhelming positive feedback, the mascot continues to disappear and reappear.  Days before the employee left the store, he passed the tradition down onto another employee (of his choice).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SblRes-_UwI/AAAAAAAAACg/GM6Ax7IEOm0/s1600-h/Doo+Doo+G2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 130px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SblRes-_UwI/AAAAAAAAACg/GM6Ax7IEOm0/s200/Doo+Doo+G2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312366823373492994" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;So what does a Doo Doo Goblin have to do with men’s urinal usage?  The Doo Doo Goblin symbolizes men’s desire to be comfortable when in the bathroom.  The childish drawing does not threaten those who use the restroom, rather it makes them laugh.  Because of this comfort, brought about by the Doo Doo Goblin, the second stall has become the choice stall for those needing to sit and use the restroom.  This kind of small, yet comforting, presence helps men feel comfortable when using the restroom.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;        Comfort seems to be a big issue with men’s bathroom usage.  When asked why rules exist, the responses I received were all pretty similar: “for us to feel comfortable,” “I believe so people don’t get offended,” and “to help us with the awkwardness of peeing next to another man.”  I think the statement that would sum the experience up best for men would be (answering, as to why we have these bathroom rules), “To preserve a sense of comfort.  Everyone has to relax in order to pee, and you just can’t do that with other guys around.”  So what are men so uncomfortable with?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;        Of the minority of responses to the question as to why we have bathroom urinal rules, a couple of people wrote, “homophobia,” and “because most men are somewhat homophobic.” This is the line most men will not utter, but lies somewhere in their subconscious, “and we can’t take any chances.”  Where the missionary stories don’t seem to serve a purpose, bathroom rules seem to strike the heart of many men.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        For women this may come as quite a shock.  During my research, I have shared my findings with some women and have been surprised how little women know about men’s urinal rules.  After informing one young woman (around 20 years of age) about the rules, she responded, “This was very educational for me, I always thought that it would suck to be a man, and have to use urinals, and confront other men there.  I figured that men must just not care or be really used to it, but I learned that this isn’t so, they are self-conscious, and do care.  I can understand why they have these rules, that make sense to me.”  In order to make this accessible to all those (male and female) who read this, I will discuss things that may seem obvious to men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        There are two questions to ask men about bathroom usage, “Are there rules for using the men’s restroom?” and “What are three rules related to using urinals?”  The questions bring back very different answers, as well as many insights into men’s bathroom usage.  Between these questions I believe you have an insight into men’s psyche about the bathroom.  Between the two questions you find out rules for entering, exiting, and everything in between, in a bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        First, and most men would say the most important, which urinal to use.  To an outsider this question may seem simple, and not worth really talking about.  However, the choice for urinals predetermines your likelihood for having a successful trip to the restroom.  The factors in the equation include; how many stalls, what type of stalls, stall location, other people using the stalls, and if others are using the stalls, where are the others sitting?  The first thing a man will do is look to see how many urinals are in the bathroom; if there is only one urinal the decision is almost made for him.  Once you find out there are multiple urinals, the real decisions begin to be made, at this time you begin taking into consideration the other factors.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;        When a man walks into a bathroom and sees multiple urinals, he begins going through a checklist.  The first item on his checklist is, are there people around?  If there are no people using urinals, men employ one of the main rules that kept showing up throughout the research; use the furthest stall from the door.  Choosing the furthest stall from the door ensures a couple things: 1- your privacy is greater there than those urinals closer to the door, or sinks.  2- It gives you the maximum possible space for others to come in and use other stalls, without having to use a stall adjacent to yours.  This space is very important for men. This space gives men the comfort needed to do their business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        If a man walks into the bathroom and sees multiple urinals, with others using them, another rule for comfort is implemented.  As I asked Kristian Kolste, if there was anything about the topic of men’s urinals that he wanted to add. This is what he said, “it does bug me if there are three urinals, and someone picks the one next to me.”  If a man walks into a restroom and sees three urinals, with someone using one, the man will start praying the other person followed the rule about using the urinal furthest from the door.  If the first person has followed the rules, they will both be able to go in peace.  However, if the first person is using the middle urinal, awkwardness may ensue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        My brother Dave called me and said, “Hey, I know you’ve been researching this, and I’ve got a story that happened to me on the way up on Thanksgiving.  I went into the bathroom and there were like five urinals, and two guys were in urinals two and four.  So instead of standing next to someone, I used a stall.”  Dave followed a rule reported to me from someone he never met, Clark Larsen.  Clark said, “If you have to use an adjacent urinal, to an occupied urinal, don’t.  Use a stall.”  It is a very commonly held belief, if your only choice is a urinal next to another man; your only real option is to use a stall.  A variation on this rule is if the only urinal to use is a child’s urinal, a stall is what you should use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Unfortunately, at one time or another, all men will have to use a urinal next to another man.  At these times, the most sensitive rules are used, and if they are not used, problems could begin.  It is not hard to understand why these rules would carry greater consequences.  As the proximity between men decreases, so does their comfort level.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        One of the ways men avoid the issue of proximity is by staying in their “own space.”  When you stand at a urinal there is one thing all the men researched, would ask you to do, look forward.  At the heart of men’s homophobia, in the bathroom, lies the wandering eye.  An ambiguous rule men’s urinal usage is the “invisible line.” It seems that everyone knows an invisible line exists, however, where and why are topics that are not agreed upon.  For many, the invisible line is the distance you stand behind someone using a urinal.  Others believe, the imaginary line is the line your eyes don’t go below, or a line on either side you are not to look past.  The latter seems like the more common interpretation of the rule.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;        No man feels comfortable in a bathroom when someone is looking around the bathroom.  David Walstad states the rule this way, “Don’t look at the other person peeing next to you, like comparing sizes.”  Men already feel very vulnerable, showing skin in the presence of other men, when someone takes a look, things quickly become uncomfortable. Clark Larsen said, “I’ve had someone ‘take a peek.’ There was no outward reaction (on Clark’s part), I just quickly finished and got out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       When these rules are broken, it seems the fight or flight response occurs every time.  For some reason, the rule that seems to be broken more than any other is talking at the urinal.  Old men especially, out of nowhere will just start talking to you.  My brother Dave is still mad about one incident of someone talking to him at the urinal.  Dave relays, “The most uncomfortable scenario I've been in was while waiting in line to use the urinal. The person ahead of me using the urinal was trying to turn his head and carry on a conversation with me while using the urinal.  Total stranger. Very uncomfortable.  He then stood close to me as I used it to finish the conversation.  Needless to say my answers to his questions were extremely short just hoping for the whole thing to end.  These experiences are not rare, and don’t always end with the person being talked to employing a flight response.  My friend, Andrew, is a bouncer at the local bar.  Andrew stands 6’4” and weighs in over 260 pounds.  I asked Andrew if he had ever had someone next to him at a urinal break a rule, if so what did he do?  Andrew related this story, “Yes, I felt weird and I said, ‘don’t you see me pissing right here?’”  Needless to say, the person stopped talking, finished, and left.  However, to further show the underlying cause of homophobia, most men feel like if they know the person it’s okay to continue a conversation at a urinal, it’s only if you don’t know someone well that silence is required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        These seem to be the main rules, but others exist.  To try and think of rules for using a men’s bathroom, just think about would make you feel uncomfortable in a bathroom.  Some rules that appeared once or twice were: Kristian Kolste said, “It bugs me when people pee from three feet back.” Calvin Kitchen said, “No foot shifting.”   These lesser rules seem to reinforce the more well known rules for acting in a conservative manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Men have an established set of rules to allow them the comfort necessary to use the restroom publicly.  No matter how the information about the rules has been disseminated, the rules seem to be universal.  As Tory Schoonmaker has put it, “It’s good to see someone talk about this topic, but at the same time these rules should never be told, they are just understood.”  The aspect of homophobia seems to be a root cause for the rules.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-7718442642326296368?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/7718442642326296368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=7718442642326296368' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7718442642326296368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7718442642326296368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2009/03/folk-lore-final-paper-rules-to-urinal.html' title='JoUrinal'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SblRes-_UwI/AAAAAAAAACg/GM6Ax7IEOm0/s72-c/Doo+Doo+G2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-4788055750325465971</id><published>2009-02-19T22:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:21:13.304-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Because...'/><title type='text'>Just Because... Doesn't Mean</title><content type='html'>Damnit, every BYU girl, just because you are wearing a scarf doesn't mean your hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images1.fanpop.com/images/photos/2400000/Blair-and-the-scarf-blair-and-chuck-2438320-460-590.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 460px; height: 590px;" src="http://images1.fanpop.com/images/photos/2400000/Blair-and-the-scarf-blair-and-chuck-2438320-460-590.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-4788055750325465971?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/4788055750325465971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=4788055750325465971' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/4788055750325465971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/4788055750325465971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-because-doesnt-mean.html' title='Just Because... Doesn&apos;t Mean'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-8566419587286471371</id><published>2009-02-19T22:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:21:31.908-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Because...'/><title type='text'>Just Because (Cont'd)</title><content type='html'>Then there's this "guy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gossipgirlreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/80314p2-westwick-b-gr-01-gossip-girl-ed-westwick-scarf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 480px; height: 657px;" src="http://www.gossipgirlreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/80314p2-westwick-b-gr-01-gossip-girl-ed-westwick-scarf.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-8566419587286471371?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/8566419587286471371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=8566419587286471371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/8566419587286471371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/8566419587286471371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-because-contd.html' title='Just Because (Cont&apos;d)'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-8521908005627037519</id><published>2008-12-29T16:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:22:16.721-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrating Friendships'/><title type='text'>Spike</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SVluhl83-CI/AAAAAAAAACQ/CatrI9CW2JU/s1600-h/spike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SVluhl83-CI/AAAAAAAAACQ/CatrI9CW2JU/s320/spike.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285377161098164258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating friendships... through pictures.  Spike always had more color than the rest of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-8521908005627037519?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/8521908005627037519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=8521908005627037519' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/8521908005627037519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/8521908005627037519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/12/spike.html' title='Spike'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SVluhl83-CI/AAAAAAAAACQ/CatrI9CW2JU/s72-c/spike.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-6937171631657388965</id><published>2008-12-08T20:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:22:53.461-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrating Friendships'/><title type='text'>Tré C</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3vWKfTDII/AAAAAAAAACI/ikut_jVnSSk/s1600-h/Traci.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3vWKfTDII/AAAAAAAAACI/ikut_jVnSSk/s320/Traci.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277637502399876226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating Friendships... through pictures.  Traci loves Mexico! ¡Viva México!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-6937171631657388965?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/6937171631657388965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=6937171631657388965' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/6937171631657388965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/6937171631657388965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/12/tr-c.html' title='Tré C'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3vWKfTDII/AAAAAAAAACI/ikut_jVnSSk/s72-c/Traci.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-7354851544870843602</id><published>2008-12-08T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:23:05.623-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrating Friendships'/><title type='text'>VMack II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3tZDQKHII/AAAAAAAAACA/GkKo_jLc57s/s1600-h/mark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3tZDQKHII/AAAAAAAAACA/GkKo_jLc57s/s320/mark.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277635352973679746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating Friendships... through pictures.  Mark is too photogenic, we need to see another picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-7354851544870843602?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/7354851544870843602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=7354851544870843602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7354851544870843602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7354851544870843602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/12/vmack-ii.html' title='VMack II'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3tZDQKHII/AAAAAAAAACA/GkKo_jLc57s/s72-c/mark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-1438334791346767283</id><published>2008-12-08T19:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:52:15.983-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrating Friendships'/><title type='text'>VMack</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3rZuO6cII/AAAAAAAAAB4/l8NwHvJWcwo/s1600-h/mark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3rZuO6cII/AAAAAAAAAB4/l8NwHvJWcwo/s320/mark.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277633165487927426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating Friendships... through pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-1438334791346767283?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/1438334791346767283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=1438334791346767283' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/1438334791346767283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/1438334791346767283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/12/vmack.html' title='VMack'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3rZuO6cII/AAAAAAAAAB4/l8NwHvJWcwo/s72-c/mark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-7136163746860307229</id><published>2008-12-08T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:41:45.390-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrating Friendships'/><title type='text'>Chan Dase</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3ovZ6mxGI/AAAAAAAAABw/sa1dP53jUDM/s1600-h/Dan+Mysterio+copy+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3ovZ6mxGI/AAAAAAAAABw/sa1dP53jUDM/s320/Dan+Mysterio+copy+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277630239456281698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating Friendships... through photographs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-7136163746860307229?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/7136163746860307229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=7136163746860307229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7136163746860307229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7136163746860307229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/12/chan-dase.html' title='Chan Dase'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/ST3ovZ6mxGI/AAAAAAAAABw/sa1dP53jUDM/s72-c/Dan+Mysterio+copy+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-7342890904968338072</id><published>2008-12-04T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T09:50:23.963-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrating Friendships'/><title type='text'>Pitt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/STgYPx6qfNI/AAAAAAAAABo/C2tim0hf4x4/s1600-h/Xmas+for+Pitt+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/STgYPx6qfNI/AAAAAAAAABo/C2tim0hf4x4/s320/Xmas+for+Pitt+2008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275993622841031890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating Friendships... through pictures&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-7342890904968338072?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/7342890904968338072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=7342890904968338072' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7342890904968338072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/7342890904968338072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/12/pitt.html' title='Pitt'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/STgYPx6qfNI/AAAAAAAAABo/C2tim0hf4x4/s72-c/Xmas+for+Pitt+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-5206460316715220767</id><published>2008-11-05T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T19:35:54.359-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People on the Street'/><title type='text'>Election '08</title><content type='html'>I hope we don't get too lost in the excitement of the election to recognize the real losers who have manifested themselves throughout this race.  So much is made of the winners and losers of elections, but little is ever said about the people who are the real losers in an election.  These people manifest their stupidity in a misguided effort to evoke support, while simultaneously attempting to gain friends, respect, or credibility.  They fail miserably...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SRJifwQ9SYI/AAAAAAAAABY/_bSsyDWDy3Y/s1600-h/obama-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SRJifwQ9SYI/AAAAAAAAABY/_bSsyDWDy3Y/s320/obama-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265379212021025154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SRJirl7IiRI/AAAAAAAAABg/3YFzI_K4STE/s1600-h/obama+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SRJirl7IiRI/AAAAAAAAABg/3YFzI_K4STE/s320/obama+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265379415403563282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;No the biggest losers aren't Obama or McCain (sorry, I couldn't find a picture of a McCain bumper sticker), the biggest losers are people who put election bumper stickers on the painted portion of their car.  Are you kidding me?  Throw that bad boy in the window then when the election is over, razor blade that old news off of your car.  How can I take your opinion seriously when you devalue your brand new Volvo (yes, I saw a brand new Volvo with an election sticker right on the paint).  Your obvious lack of foresight turns my stomach; if I didn't have such great foresight, I'd run my car into yours.  Then when you got mad and said you were going to sue me, I'd just say, "Oh, I thought you were into ruining the value of your car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. - I think it's proper to point out the Boston Red Sox sticker also on the painted portion... One more reason to hate the Red Sox and Red Sox fans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-5206460316715220767?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/5206460316715220767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=5206460316715220767' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/5206460316715220767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/5206460316715220767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/11/election-08.html' title='Election &apos;08'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SRJifwQ9SYI/AAAAAAAAABY/_bSsyDWDy3Y/s72-c/obama-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-4226024452631964752</id><published>2008-10-21T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T09:49:14.576-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People on the Street'/><title type='text'>This Was Really Said</title><content type='html'>Only at BYU...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly thought it was just a Mormon joke, but I was minding my own business, not even wanting to overhear 18 year-olds at BYU speaking immature "Mormon" talk, it happened.  Just a warning, I will not comment on what I write, I cannot, it is too painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I heard from two girls on my way from class...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not mad or jealous. I'm just frustrated, because I feel like she's a climber and I'm not... maybe I should be. No, that is wrong I need to repent. I hope she's happy being Relief Society President."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-4226024452631964752?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/4226024452631964752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=4226024452631964752' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/4226024452631964752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/4226024452631964752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-was-really-said.html' title='This Was Really Said'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-4360947583653124052</id><published>2008-10-21T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T09:14:42.410-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People on the Street'/><title type='text'>The Dude I Never Want to Meet</title><content type='html'>There are people you either over hear, or meet in passing, and you think to yourself... I never want to talk to that dude.  This will be the first of a group of posts of my encounters with such people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BYU, Fall 2008-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking to class, minding my own business, not even wanting to overhear 18 year-olds at BYU speaking immature "Mormon" talk, it happened. All of the sudden from behind me I heard something that has frustrated me for two weeks now. Two freshman (boy and girl), were walking and I didn't hear what the girl said, but the boy said this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read this without pauses, this was said with one breath... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know her, I love her, she's so funny, she's amazing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of those times where I was so frustrated, I stopped and just looked at them.  I'd be lying if I said I don't think about it every time I walk into that class.  This is the pain I have to deal with on a daily basis.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do the phrases "she's so funny," and "she's amazing," even fit together?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-4360947583653124052?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/4360947583653124052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=4360947583653124052' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/4360947583653124052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/4360947583653124052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/10/dude-i-never-want-to-meet.html' title='The Dude I Never Want to Meet'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3987750056284769764.post-3596202239173818877</id><published>2008-09-25T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T13:30:27.605-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hot or Not'/><title type='text'>My First Blog... is out of necessity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I sent Pitt a paper tody, September 25th, I wrote 6 months ago and then I received this text, "Dude if you don't start a blog and post that I'll never forgive you.  I'm tearing up as we speak."  So in order to save our friendship, here is the Hot or Not piece I wrote:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cdanny%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cdanny%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cdanny%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt; 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	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} .MsoChpDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	mso-default-props:yes; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The following is excerpts from an interview with a person who will remain anonymous:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“I had no desire to start rating people on hot or not, my buddy showed it to me and we ranked people for about fifteen minutes, then went to dinner,” Dessa speaks frankly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“I don’t really like to talk in depth about this because I don’t think people understand fully why I have taken the time to establish a system for ranking people on hotornot.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I believe people think the only reason I sight “rules” is to deflect my shallowness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I am not shallow and I don’t feel a need to defend myself, that’s why I don’t really like talking to people about my system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I did not create this system in order to allow myself a guilty pleasure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I created this system to allow my mind some understanding; this website began to consume my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“As I began visiting hotornot.com I became more and more frustrated with the entire website.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;How could people put themselves through this torment?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Who visits this website, don’t they have better things to do with their lives?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;What satisfaction can one get out of being judged by complete strangers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I began visiting the site more and more, like it was some kind of gas station chocolate donut that you know is way too sweet, but you can’t stop from taking another bite, then another, then another.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As I continued on the website my questions started changing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;How can people vote so highly for people on this website?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Why are my rankings completely different than everyone else’s?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Is there something wrong with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Am I really this shallow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hotornot.com has given me a complex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“It was at this crossroad that I knew I had to do something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There was a fight going on inside of me; the mathematical or analytical side of me could not understand the rankings by others, while my humanity was called into question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I needed to understand why I was ranking like I was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In attempts to understand this, I created my system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I’m not going to say these rules are complete, these are rules Leon and I came up with that worked well, and helped us correctly rank people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In order to correctly rank people you must first have an understanding of how to use hot or not responsibly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Basically this breaks down into two sections: 1- Understanding how to judge a picture. 2- Understanding how to use the numerical scale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I’ll first explain the rules for understanding how to judge a picture on hotornot.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“One, these people submitted a photo to be rated, you are not barging into someone’s quiet life and insulting them, they are asking for your opinion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The reasons they are asking you your opinion is because they need an objective opinion with which to gage themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If they wanted a compliment they would have asked their parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Two, you are rating the person in the picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This sounds like a simplistic rule, but it has various meanings, all of which need to be applied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A- You must assume this is the best picture the person has, that is why they have uploaded this photo to be rated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You cannot look at a picture and say, ‘they could look good if they…’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If the person in the picture does not look good, you must rate them accordingly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You cannot rate a person based on potential.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;B- Similarly you cannot allow your emotions to come into play, you must rate the person in the picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Often times you will feel bad that someone’s picture is on hot or not, whether they’re not attractive or just awkward, this cannot be your concern, you have been asked to rate this picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Three, rate consistently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Do not be flippant with any pictures you see, no matter how tired or bored you are, rate each picture with a genuine judgment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Hot or not is based on a one to ten measuring scale seems so easy, there is no way anyone could get this wrong, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Though it may be one of the most simple judging scales, the one to ten scale may be the most defamed scale in society today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I realize this seems like an overgeneralization, however there are two fundamental flaws most people have problems with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The first is not understanding, or not taking seriously, the one to ten scale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I’ll give you some examples how the one to ten scale is misunderstood or misused today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It has become the standard within society that when someone is asked, ‘how hungry are you?’ the answer is given, ‘on a scale of one to ten, I’m an eleven.’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I know this seems like a mere trifle, but this is where the undercutting of the scale begins. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Usually, when people are driving around, trying to figure out where to eat, someone will pop up with, ‘well, how hungry are you?’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This question is often time followed up with, ‘on a scale of one to ten, I’m a ten.’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Let’s think about this for a second you’re telling me that there is no chance for you to get any more hungry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Are you one of those starving kids our parents told us about when we didn’t finish our food?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Seriously though, think about it, on a scale of hunger, what is a real ten?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Personally, I don’t believe I have ever got over a seven on the hunger scale; I have never had to consider stealing food, I’ve never fainted, and I’ve never eaten out of the trash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Is this semantics, yes, but is there a purpose, yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If people can’t tell the difference within something as common as hunger, how can they tell the truth on an abstract concept like beauty?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“The second obstacle in correctly ranking people on hot or not is overcoming something that is basically ingrained in American youth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The one to ten scale is misused many times because people in a America think more along the lines of school grading instead of standard deviations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Put simply the mathematical rules for standard deviations show how rankings should be dispersed through each “standard deviation.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Without going into the specifics, basically 68% of all people fit within the first standard deviation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If the mean of the scale is 5.5, then 68% of all people should be rated between 2.5 and 8.5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The next standard deviation is 96%, this means 96% of all people should be ranked between 1.5 and 9.5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This means the ranks of 1 or 10 should only be given out (on average) one time with every one hundred people you rate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This concept might be easier to understand if I give an analogy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Imagine you have a piece of wood ten inches long, make the board every inch and number the inches, right in the middle of that board hammer a nail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Around this nail place an elastic band, this band is the difficulty in ratings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The most you can pull this rubber band before it will snap is five inches, so the extremities are very difficult to achieve because of all the tension in the stretched rubber band.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It is easy to stretch the band back to four inches, or up to seven, because the rubber band is not stretched to capacity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This is how you should view your rankings, don’t give out high scores unless they are truly warranted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So why then do people naturally give out (on usual) between seven to ten, or a one?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The simple reason is because people either want to be nice or not take the time, however the real reason is far more imbedded and part of the human psyche.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;From an early age almost every person learns how they are going to be graded on in school, most people who have been removed from school for years can still give you the breakdown: 94-100% is an A, 90-93% is an A-, 86-89% is a B+, and so on until 0-59% is failing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There is a very good reason teachers must use this equation for basing grades, however this equation does not work for everything, if this were the case the one to ten scale need not exist, it would be replaced by the one or six through ten scale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This seems like such an easy concept but it’s hard to explain to people in real life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Rules of thumb, or problems with hotornot.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The idea of explaining the ratings system to other people, girls in particular is not a fun event.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After I had spent many hours on Hot or Not, I found it harder to lie to girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After you have set up so many rules in one aspect of your life it is hard to keep them from carrying over into other parts without feeling like a total hypocrite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;When a girl asks me if I think a girl is hot, she often says, ‘what would your rate her on a scale of one to ten?’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Girls are easily offended by the accurate usage of the one to ten scale, so how do I answer this question?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;To me there are guidelines to go by: the girl commonly referred to as ‘Sarah plain and tall’ is a five, she hasn’t done anything to stretch the rubber band forwards or backwards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A girl who is a six is someone who is above average, but probably still not someone I would call attractive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A girl who ranks as a seven is a girl who I would not hesitate showing a friend, she has what I’m looking for in a girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eight, nine, and tens are a little more tough, they all seems to be gradations to what extent I would go to try and make them mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eight is the first ranking of a girl that I’d put myself on the line to get.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Nine is a girl who I would lower my pride and do things I wouldn’t normally do, even things I usually find embarrassing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ten… all bets are off, I’d stop breathing for a ten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The problem with this is, once I determined these rules for viewing a website, it was hard to separate viewing a website and living a life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The fundamental difference is people aren’t asking me to judge them in life, in fact most would be upset if they knew this is what I was doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“I’m not going to go into the issues of writing on pictures and other Paint aided photographs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Just know without exception, Paint “enhanced” photos hurt your score.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“So what do I do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Do I not obey the rules that have served me well, the rules that have set my mind at ease?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I have spent so much time on these rules, I have to keep them, but this way of life doesn’t bring joy or happiness, it just brings separations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“I’ve stopped looking at hotornot.com.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3987750056284769764-3596202239173818877?l=dansftown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/feeds/3596202239173818877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3987750056284769764&amp;postID=3596202239173818877' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/3596202239173818877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3987750056284769764/posts/default/3596202239173818877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dansftown.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-first-blog-is-out-of-necessity.html' title='My First Blog... is out of necessity'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09035802569195616090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dldILxiRjpU/SNwaBIfizbI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ysVhUotZq8/S220/Christmas+002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
