<?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-3730037369443549227</id><updated>2011-08-01T14:57:23.545-07:00</updated><category term='phone call'/><category term='where all your love on the outside.'/><category term='freedom'/><title type='text'>Curtis Kauffman</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-8156862227061867913</id><published>2009-07-26T05:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T05:58:41.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For the past three years I have had the bad habit of getting some fresh air late at night.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The reason why this is a bad habit is because I don’t live in the safest area.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It started with walking; I would walk for hours just up and down Magnolia.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then it went to jogging and sometimes running.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now I am truly enjoying biking the small stretch of Magnolia from Adams Street to Monroe.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The path has stayed the same and so has the temperature.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Each season of fresh air has brought a different series of thought.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The walking was riddled with thoughts of worry (when I thought I might have been very ill) it turned out to be a super thyroid.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The running dealt directly with my sick niece.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would run and pray, run and pray, run and pray.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so worried about her little body, I would just run and cry and beg God not to take her from this earth.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This happened to be the first time I cried out to God asking him “why” with a tone of confusion and uncertainty about his motives.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am now into biking, I don’t worry so much anymore I just ride in awe of who God is.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I praise God for a sick baby in September of 2005.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I thank Him every day for the illness that caused Koren and Conor to make an emergency trip home.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This would be the last time Koren and Conor would see my dad healthy.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My dad was able to take his grandson sailing, he even let him steer the ship.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Emma was able to climb up in the arms of her grandpa and be held by a body that wasn’t ravaged by chemo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-8156862227061867913?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/8156862227061867913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=8156862227061867913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8156862227061867913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8156862227061867913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2009/07/for-past-three-years-i-have-had-bad.html' title=''/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-2489810174392551073</id><published>2009-07-26T05:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T05:51:24.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how could i have been aware?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/SmxPOlLSDTI/AAAAAAAAAIc/VR35X4JIMgY/s1600-h/DSC00629.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/SmxPOlLSDTI/AAAAAAAAAIc/VR35X4JIMgY/s400/DSC00629.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362748368207613234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;woke up at 130am took a three hour bus ride, arrived at a port that smelled like ten years of rotting tuna and diesel fumes, boarded the boat with a killer nauseating headache, threw up repeatedly for twelve hours, got fish guts on my favorite diesel jeans, stabbed myself in the chest with the safety pin on my fishing license, caught nothing but a slap in the face by a wave as i was hurling my breakfast over the side and to this day i wonder "how could i have been aware that this would be the best fishing trip i would ever go on?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-2489810174392551073?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/2489810174392551073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=2489810174392551073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2489810174392551073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2489810174392551073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2009/07/how-could-i-have-been-aware.html' title='how could i have been aware?'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/SmxPOlLSDTI/AAAAAAAAAIc/VR35X4JIMgY/s72-c/DSC00629.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-1094289271465681704</id><published>2008-03-31T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T00:27:34.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i started</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://curtiskauffman.tumblr.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;tumbling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; try it. but  do not speak to me in public about any of this&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-1094289271465681704?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/1094289271465681704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=1094289271465681704' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/1094289271465681704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/1094289271465681704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-started_4962.html' title='i started'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-2567387421598705261</id><published>2008-02-16T13:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T14:13:12.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>behind the times</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/R7df8ZegXlI/AAAAAAAAADU/p1V01PQeq0k/s1600-h/IMG_6581-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/R7df8ZegXlI/AAAAAAAAADU/p1V01PQeq0k/s400/IMG_6581-01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167704588666560082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the past few years has been hard for me.  i have not been able to search and look for new and exciting music, so i am therefore way way behind the times.  however i caught the end of the Conan O'Brien show last night and the band playing at the close of the show was absolutely phenomenal.  they are a band from brooklyn and they have just under 7000 myspace friends.  there name is yeasayer and the song 2080 has just topped the CKCOGM (curtis kauffman chart of great music).  please rush to the nearest itunes store and at least purchase this one song if not the whole album.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-2567387421598705261?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/2567387421598705261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=2567387421598705261' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2567387421598705261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2567387421598705261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2008/02/behind-times.html' title='behind the times'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/R7df8ZegXlI/AAAAAAAAADU/p1V01PQeq0k/s72-c/IMG_6581-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-2533935293359652424</id><published>2007-11-02T00:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T01:01:27.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i had to tell someone</title><content type='html'>All of his friends were there, many with gifts and surprises for him to be excited about.  I know now that it was just a dream but for someone who rarely remembers his dreams it was all so real.  We were celebrating my dad’s fifty-third birthday.  He was serving chimichangas from behind a cook top bar.  His face was full of smiles and life.  The room wasn’t just filled with people it was filled with relationships, memories and love.  The best part was that I saw his face again.  He was talking and laughing.  I handed him a gift and he said in the clearest voice I have ever heard “thanks son”.  When I walked in the door he exclaimed “Curtis” as if it had been a while since he had seen me.  My Mom was hugging him and whispering “happy birthday” in his ear.  Koren was waiving Emmas hand for her to get gradpas attention.  Kylie and Trent were restacking the gifts after Gavin knocked them over and Conor was handing out pepsi to all the guests.  It was a birthday party ill never forget and with only twenty days till my dads real birthday in my dreams I have already started celebrating.  I’m wide-awake now it’s one a.m. and I would give anything to fall back asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-2533935293359652424?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/2533935293359652424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=2533935293359652424' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2533935293359652424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2533935293359652424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-had-to-tell-someone.html' title='i had to tell someone'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-2531144294078435908</id><published>2007-10-17T00:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T00:44:37.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the freedom chair</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RxW9HA6c_3I/AAAAAAAAACk/iCbZCTDbvus/s1600-h/IMG_0534_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RxW9HA6c_3I/AAAAAAAAACk/iCbZCTDbvus/s400/IMG_0534_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122208079405711218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-2531144294078435908?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/2531144294078435908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=2531144294078435908' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2531144294078435908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2531144294078435908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/10/freedom-chair.html' title='the freedom chair'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RxW9HA6c_3I/AAAAAAAAACk/iCbZCTDbvus/s72-c/IMG_0534_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-8138552229812752680</id><published>2007-10-16T23:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T23:46:53.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That darn Granite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RxWtzg6c_2I/AAAAAAAAACc/p-O6Xbn53gw/s1600-h/IMG_0054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RxWtzg6c_2I/AAAAAAAAACc/p-O6Xbn53gw/s400/IMG_0054.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122191251723845474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The building of a new house brought many firsts for my dad.  This would be the first time he would own a mobile unit, have to thaw toilet pipes in the winter, clear brush, own a Toyota, build a hand rail for a flight of stairs and many other manual and emotional labors.  The first one want to tell you about is the first time my Dad tried to keep a tree alive in our front yard.&lt;br /&gt; Our story begins with dirt because you can’t grow a tree without proper soil and that is exactly what our acre and a half lacks.  You see our house was built on granite, which grows sagebrush really well but not much else.  However as any determined homeowner and building inspector would do my Dad took his chances and brought home a left over tree from one of his many jobs with the county of Riverside.  Now I know what you are thinking my Dad is a tree thief but that’s not it at all the tree was left over and was just going to be thrown away.  So in a way my Dad was a tree saver, well until he planted it firmly in the ground in front of our house.  I still remember the day he brought it home in the back of his Toyota pickup laying on its side with the leaves dragging on the pavement all the way home.  It was a small tree and at this point it desperately needed the two support poles that were holding it straight up or it would have just fallen straight over.  So now it was a skinny tree with about ten leaves left and they were all on one side.  The tree went in the ground that next weekend and of coarse the side with the leaves was the side my Dad wanted to face the street.  The tree never looked better than it did on the day we planted it.  The leaves immediately fell off and much to my concern my Dad assured me that it was because fall was coming and the tree was just going through its normal cycle (although it was June).  My Dad watered and watered and eventually flooded the front yard trying to revive the tree back to life.  He went to the nursery and bought tree fertilizer.  He sprayed its bare trunk and branches with miracle grow and bathed the tree in prayer hoping for a miracle. I think I may have even heard him singing to it one day trying to get it to respond to the medication.  There was nothing he could do that tree was dead.  He spent the next few years replanting and relandscaping our yard I know because I was with him every Saturday all day long (which now I would never give up that time for anything).  The yard came together and as the grading began on the front yard it was clear it was time to rip out that old dead tree and try again.  So he got a tree and dug a hole and planted the next tree in the same spot hoping that one day if would take root and blossom into something great or even anything at all.  The same thing happened to the next tree it lost all of it’s leaves and with all ten leaves on the ground next to it I remember my Dad saying “we just weren’t meant to have a tree son.”  The winter came and went and the spring came upon us and I remember the day God gave my Dad his first leaf.  We were on our way home from my grandma’s house and when we turned that last corner on the way to my house my Dad spotted it.  We were still a good two hundred yards away when my Dad spoke those unforgettable words “I don’t believe it” he said with an uncertain tone “it’s got a leaf” he exclaimed.  I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about but as he stepped hard on the gas and screeched into the driveway I caught a glimpse of His first leaf.  It was beautiful and green and about the size of a quarter.  How my Dad saw it from so far away I will never know but he did and it was at that point that my Dad knew his prayers had been heard and he tree was taking root.  &lt;br /&gt; To this day the tree stands tall and is growing at a rapid rate.  The best part about the only tree in our front yard is that it’s my Dads tree and it’s only for the moment growing stronger everyday.  It has now grown so big that it is the very first thing you see when you look at our house.  It has thousands of leaves and its braches make incredible noises in the wind.  The truth is that I love that tree because it is the first thing I see when I get home and it never fails to remind me of my Dad.  A dear family friend gave us a tree to plant in my Dad memory right after he died so the family got together and dug a hole in the back yard and planted it right where everyone could see it.  Immediately after we planted it lost all of it’s leaves and turned completely grey.  I thought for sure it was a goner but the spring time brought new leaves and much greener branches so it looks like we are going to be ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-8138552229812752680?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/8138552229812752680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=8138552229812752680' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8138552229812752680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8138552229812752680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/10/that-darn-granite.html' title='That darn Granite'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RxWtzg6c_2I/AAAAAAAAACc/p-O6Xbn53gw/s72-c/IMG_0054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-1550374466623342870</id><published>2007-10-15T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T22:14:00.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>our fridge doesnt work</title><content type='html'>thats it it just doesnt work&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-1550374466623342870?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/1550374466623342870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=1550374466623342870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/1550374466623342870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/1550374466623342870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/10/our-fridge-doesnt-work.html' title='our fridge doesnt work'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-4756401501445865064</id><published>2007-10-09T10:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T10:42:58.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fall has arrived</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/Rwu9lg6c_1I/AAAAAAAAACU/fy-uvw3X114/s1600-h/100_3883.JPG_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/Rwu9lg6c_1I/AAAAAAAAACU/fy-uvw3X114/s400/100_3883.JPG_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119393853624614738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-4756401501445865064?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/4756401501445865064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=4756401501445865064' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/4756401501445865064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/4756401501445865064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/10/fall-has-arrived.html' title='fall has arrived'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/Rwu9lg6c_1I/AAAAAAAAACU/fy-uvw3X114/s72-c/100_3883.JPG_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-6853032801759003057</id><published>2007-09-17T14:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T14:00:57.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>found it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/Ru7rBLLIPsI/AAAAAAAAACM/IoVvC9bTg_k/s1600-h/Photo+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/Ru7rBLLIPsI/AAAAAAAAACM/IoVvC9bTg_k/s400/Photo+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111281032523955906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was in my backpack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-6853032801759003057?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/6853032801759003057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=6853032801759003057' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/6853032801759003057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/6853032801759003057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/09/found-it.html' title='found it!'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/Ru7rBLLIPsI/AAAAAAAAACM/IoVvC9bTg_k/s72-c/Photo+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-8215556596803977830</id><published>2007-09-15T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T15:47:55.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh ipod</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RuxhErLIPrI/AAAAAAAAACE/An2kyk9PJns/s1600-h/100_3868.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RuxhErLIPrI/AAAAAAAAACE/An2kyk9PJns/s400/100_3868.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110566410095443634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was born I was given the ability to balance.  This great accomplishment lead me to love things like surfing, skateboarding, dancing, walking on my hands, hoping on one foot, the hokie pokie, baking and JC penny catalog shopping (I became proficient at all). In elementary school I was particularly fond of using this gift of balance on a skateboard. While attending one of my sisters many tennis matches in October of 93 my skateboard was stolen right out from under my nose.  I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach six times and then tried to drown me in a bucket of my own tears while a second person was kicking me in the shin with cowboy boots on.  I recovered from this experience and was completely over it when I got a new skateboard.  Although I was over the hurt I knew I would never forget that feeling.  I was reminded what that felt like late in 2006 when my truck was broken into and a number of things were stolen from me.  This time I was able to pick my self up and dust of my shantz.  I am still looking for an ash try that will fit a Toyota Tacoma 02-04 if anyone comes across one.  I sit today with a hurting stomach and sore shins because it seems as though someone has stolen hundreds of hours of music and video along with family pictures and the calendar of my life for the next four months, oh and electronic sudoku.  Yes the love of my life was black and shiny with a chrome back and an emblem that said 60Gig.  You can probably guess that im am talking about my iPod.  I am writing to make you all aware of a thief who likes to steal hours of enjoyment and precious memories.  Also I would like to tell you all to protect the ones you love and guard them with your whole being.  Goodbye weather girls, goodbye thiry hours of The Office, goodbye organization and mmm bop, goodbye thriller, bad and black or white, goodbye jude, penny lane and lets get it on, goodbye maceraina, goodbye who let the dogs out, goodbye demitri martin and it’s rainin men, goodbye walkin in Memphis, goodbye sandi patty and amygrant, goodbye temptations, goodbye biggie smalls and tupac R.I.P.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-8215556596803977830?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/8215556596803977830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=8215556596803977830' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8215556596803977830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8215556596803977830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/09/oh-ipod.html' title='oh ipod'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RuxhErLIPrI/AAAAAAAAACE/An2kyk9PJns/s72-c/100_3868.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-4277306758913432920</id><published>2007-07-21T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T07:31:20.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sin = Sin?</title><content type='html'>I often hear christian religious leaders use the term "all sin is equal in Gods sight."  When ever i happen to hear this statement the hairs on the back on my neck stand straight up and i get the chills.  It is not that i do not believe that all sin is equal.  But i do however believe that the consequences for sin varies in degree of seriousness.  I think the reason why the statement "all sin is equal" really gets under my nails is beacause it is always used to relieve the pressure from greater sins.  Here is what i mean, lets say i hear this statment come across the pulpit my first response is to think of the worst thing i have done.  My second response is to think of the smallest sin i have committed and justify the worst sin with the smallest sin.  I used this example recently while speaking to some of my students.  I used murder as an example of a "big sin" and i used stealing a pencil as an example of a "small sin."  To say that sin is equal to sin is a very true statement and must be taken very literally, however in Gods eyes the same disobeidience and neglect for his holy sacrifice had to take place in order to commit both sins.  We as christians must never think in any way shape or form that we have the ability to decide the degree and seriousness of the sins we commit.  I will hopfully get back to this post if you have any feedback please let me know so if i have to i can revise this thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-4277306758913432920?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/4277306758913432920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=4277306758913432920' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/4277306758913432920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/4277306758913432920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/07/sin-sin.html' title='Sin = Sin?'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-7234950339844360221</id><published>2007-07-19T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T20:54:21.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tyler Shot a Bird Jon Shot this Photo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RqAwzQu_FuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/gCcuVHSSHuw/s1600-h/IMG_0611+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RqAwzQu_FuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/gCcuVHSSHuw/s400/IMG_0611+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089121236152162018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a recent back yard bbq i found out that my roomate tyler is a sharpshooter this discovery is the worst news i have had since i moved into my appartment.  The reason why this is bad news is because now all the plans i had to prank tyler have been smashed into the ground because now that i know tyler is such a great shot i know he is capable of shooting me in the face from miles away and i will never know he pulled the trigger.  Now my goal has changed form pranking tyler to finding a way to sever his trigger finger.  All snipers in appartment one beware.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-7234950339844360221?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/7234950339844360221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=7234950339844360221' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/7234950339844360221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/7234950339844360221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/07/tyler-shot-bird-jon-shot-this-picture.html' title='Tyler Shot a Bird Jon Shot this Photo'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RqAwzQu_FuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/gCcuVHSSHuw/s72-c/IMG_0611+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-1130556315481432271</id><published>2007-07-16T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T00:44:59.081-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sewing Machine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RpsfLQu_FtI/AAAAAAAAABk/-yKGdM9hd_k/s1600-h/IMG_0698.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RpsfLQu_FtI/AAAAAAAAABk/-yKGdM9hd_k/s400/IMG_0698.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087694482376169170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a sewing machine at the swap meet for five bucks... it doesn't work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-1130556315481432271?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/1130556315481432271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=1130556315481432271' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/1130556315481432271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/1130556315481432271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/07/sweing-machine.html' title='Sewing Machine'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RpsfLQu_FtI/AAAAAAAAABk/-yKGdM9hd_k/s72-c/IMG_0698.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-8418765318835082885</id><published>2007-07-13T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T23:24:00.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>croquet shantz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RphrnAu_FsI/AAAAAAAAABc/Xu2Vf9iAdQI/s1600-h/IMG_0657.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RphrnAu_FsI/AAAAAAAAABc/Xu2Vf9iAdQI/s400/IMG_0657.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086934097071118018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one more use for shantz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-8418765318835082885?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/8418765318835082885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=8418765318835082885' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8418765318835082885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/8418765318835082885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/07/croquet-shantz.html' title='croquet shantz'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RphrnAu_FsI/AAAAAAAAABc/Xu2Vf9iAdQI/s72-c/IMG_0657.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-2225165191969433249</id><published>2007-07-13T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T00:48:36.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>shantz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RpgWTQu_FrI/AAAAAAAAABU/M80of13gxkQ/s1600-h/Photo+9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RpgWTQu_FrI/AAAAAAAAABU/M80of13gxkQ/s400/Photo+9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086840299280340658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my new "shantz."  "What are shantz?" You ask.  They are not quite shorts and not quite pants.  These happen to be diesel Shantz and they are very very comfortable.  There are many useful times to wear shantz. which are but not limited to bike riding, walking, laying on the couch, laying on the floor, laying in a pile of leaves, laying on some warm sand, sailing, surfing, swiming, talking, not talking, shopping, cooking, cleaning, listening, reading, writing, drinking coke, drinking milk, milking goats, milking cows, feeding horses, riding horses, painting, drawing, breathing, not breathing and driving. So as you can see shantz are the right choice for your next indoor/outdoor excursion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-2225165191969433249?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/2225165191969433249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=2225165191969433249' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2225165191969433249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2225165191969433249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/07/shantz.html' title='shantz'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RpgWTQu_FrI/AAAAAAAAABU/M80of13gxkQ/s72-c/Photo+9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-2712055309614747636</id><published>2007-02-16T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T14:46:26.918-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>freedom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RdY0NR_fREI/AAAAAAAAAAk/UKUHFhNVv2c/s1600-h/Photo+9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RdY0NR_fREI/AAAAAAAAAAk/UKUHFhNVv2c/s320/Photo+9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032267036405744706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found myself thinking today while i was sitting in the bathroom.  the window happend to be open and i could hear the palm trees waiveing back and fourth and back and fourth.  i thought it was a lovely sound, it reminded me of childhood also of bike riding.  then i all the sudden felt free.  so if i ever find myself stranded in prison.  i will dream of swaying palm trees because that sound to me is the sound of freedom.  however if i ever find myself stranded on an island i will dream of the sound of slamming prison doors cause i probably wouldn't do well with that amount of freedom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-2712055309614747636?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/2712055309614747636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=2712055309614747636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2712055309614747636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2712055309614747636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/02/freedom.html' title='freedom'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RdY0NR_fREI/AAAAAAAAAAk/UKUHFhNVv2c/s72-c/Photo+9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-2694466969785322431</id><published>2007-02-12T11:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T12:23:54.900-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phone call'/><title type='text'>revenge at last</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RdDMAh_fRDI/AAAAAAAAAAY/JH9Tm2V4Dfg/s1600-h/Photo+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RdDMAh_fRDI/AAAAAAAAAAY/JH9Tm2V4Dfg/s320/Photo+7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030745093269570610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i may have just wasted 9 min and 39 sec or i may have just spent the last 9 min and 39 sec finally getting the revenge i have been waiting for.  i sit on mondays and do homework from sunup until sun down and then some.  today my homework was interupted by a telephone survey but instead of hanging up like i usually do i chose to except the mission of trying to comprehend the mixed language of a woman who obviously blatently lied on her application when she was asked to mark the yes box if she was bilangual.  according to the survey i just finished i am a forty eight year old hispanic female with seven children who all live in my house and are all over the age of twenty five.  i also make less than twenty thousand dollars a year and am the only source of income in my household.  i believe that the survey of seven questions could have been completed in less than three min (give or take a min for being unable to comprehend the lady on the other end) but i my friends have the ability to speak slowly with very long pauses while asking the lady to repeat the words stater brothers over and over.  the reason why i am so proud of the phone canversation is because i not only wasted the time of the lady on the phone giving her false information about my life and where i do my grocery shoping but i also wasted the time of everyone who will get a copy of the survey results for review of how middle aged hispaic women spend thier time, money and food stamps.  so take that survey lady. gracerosolace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-2694466969785322431?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/2694466969785322431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=2694466969785322431' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2694466969785322431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/2694466969785322431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/02/revenge-at-last.html' title='revenge at last'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RdDMAh_fRDI/AAAAAAAAAAY/JH9Tm2V4Dfg/s72-c/Photo+7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3730037369443549227.post-441568450199894588</id><published>2007-02-05T20:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T20:30:37.755-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='where all your love on the outside.'/><title type='text'>sprint with endurance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RcgD2O5LweI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mEdUbjHZls0/s1600-h/Photo+10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RcgD2O5LweI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mEdUbjHZls0/s400/Photo+10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028273214204920290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as you all know it is 2007 it is also the year of pig or dinghai.  i wish i could say it is the year of dragon or something better but i cant.  remember just because it is year of pig does not mean you can gain a ungodly amount of weight.  more so i think we sould stay away from bacon also turkey bacon (i know turkey bacon is made from turkey but it taste awful so avoid).  this should be a year of excersize we can all get together and run, snort, laugh, roll in mud and hoof-kick eachother.  if you are unaware of what hoof-kicking is but would like to learn more go to hoofkickersforchrist.com/jackhammer.  take time this year to love live and create.  gracerosolace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3730037369443549227-441568450199894588?l=curtiskauffman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/feeds/441568450199894588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3730037369443549227&amp;postID=441568450199894588' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/441568450199894588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3730037369443549227/posts/default/441568450199894588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtiskauffman.blogspot.com/2007/02/sprint-with-endurance_05.html' title='sprint with endurance'/><author><name>Curtis Kauffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17792924232653843071</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AN0CWSa34Ks/RcgD2O5LweI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mEdUbjHZls0/s72-c/Photo+10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
