<?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-3935035017013023204</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:57:53.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the Untrodden path</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3935035017013023204.post-7414877920901731388</id><published>2009-03-04T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T10:12:57.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>6 word story</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Susie leaves Calvin, Calvin-headed cubs."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 19px; "&gt;that is my first attempt at a six word story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;check this out - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sixwordstories.net/"&gt;http://www.sixwordstories.net&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-7414877920901731388?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/7414877920901731388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=7414877920901731388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/7414877920901731388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/7414877920901731388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2009/03/6-word-story.html' title='6 word story'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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-3935035017013023204.post-2912648272631392142</id><published>2009-02-25T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T20:42:10.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>gee, should i?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;You enter this big hall and see a giant circular table in the middle. A few people are seated around it. You take a seat, subtly glancing at who the others are.  They see you, you see them. You wonder whether you should greet them, perhaps tell that casual  hi.. the usual small talk; You invariably end up holding the newspaper in front of you looking busy. You eventually get bored of that and plug in your ipod, wearing your fav bands' tee. After killing time for quite a bit, you actually start work... and DING! an irritating old aquaintence starts talking to you. Thats when you contemplate taking that dingy old room, overlooking the hall, next time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;150 million people go through this everyday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Everytime I sign into gmail and see those little green/red buttons with names next to them I cant help but wonder how it would be, if it was a real place...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-2912648272631392142?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/2912648272631392142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=2912648272631392142' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/2912648272631392142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/2912648272631392142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2009/02/gee-should-i.html' title='gee, should i?'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3935035017013023204.post-5988281756459023007</id><published>2008-01-18T05:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T05:42:22.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee with self</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;            Well...well.. it was a hot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; afternoon, and for some strange reason, I decided to get myself an even hotter cup of coffee. It was relatively empty when I stepped into the coffee shop, and hence the choice of seat was mine. I found a cozy couch at the corner of the shop, almost like a beanbag. I sank myself into it. It felt great! I dint bother calling the waiter to take my order, as I dint want anything/anyone to spoil my moment with the exceedingly comfortable beanbag!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;       After yawing and stretching for almost 73 seconds, I realised that I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;forgotten&lt;/span&gt; the whole purpose of my being there. I did not want to actually make notes of what I saw and then blog about it. I just wanted to observe and have a good time and blogging I thought, would follow (and now i can safely say that it has); anyways, five minutes into it, the waiter appeared with a pleasing smile and handed the menu over. I politely handed it back without opening and said " One &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mochachino&lt;/span&gt; please" as I had decided what I wanted to have even before stepping in. As he was about to leave I called him and said " Please take your time ". He gave me a curious look and left. I was sure i was going to be the topic of conversation(read mocking) for the waiters for some time. I dint care though.. Because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I go to a coffee shop they take time to bring my order...but I dint want to take a chance this time with Mr.Murphy as I needed some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, a couple entered. A couple in the sense, a guy and a girl, I was not sure whether they were a "couple". It would be interesting to find out though. They sat in the table right opposite mine... and for all the male readers of this blog, YES the girl was really really pretty, and YES the big muscular guy accompanying the pretty girl did look like her loving caring brother. I was trying to mentally add conversation to their actions as I was unable to hear them. I had real fun doing that, especially when the couple started discussing the latest trends in synthetic fertilizers for the development of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;agro&lt;/span&gt;-based products in South-East Asia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, a bunch of loud teenagers came in. They were laughing their wits out from the moment they entered. It took me back to the good old school days; the days we dint care about a thing in the world. When the brief phase of nostalgia was ended by the waiter placing my hot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mochachino&lt;/span&gt; on the table, I realised that I had failed to notice a few women in their thirties enter the coffee shop. It did not require a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;PhD&lt;/span&gt; to conclude that they were fresh from burning a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ultra-large&lt;/span&gt; sized hole in their husband's pocket( NO, they were not working women.... I can tell).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time, I was thoroughly enjoying my coffee and observing every one. All this while, I was being very careful as there is a very thin line between observing and ogling; but unfortunately for me, most thought I was doing the latter. The pretty girl, instead of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;frowning&lt;/span&gt;, gave this "oh you got stood up on a coffee date you loser!" kind of look. The shopping women gang gave me a similar look, and that was when I faked an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;SMS&lt;/span&gt; to look busy. The teen gang was completely oblivious to my existence, which for some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt; reason,I was thankful for. Then, I asked the waiter for the cheque. The way he grinned while giving the bill was suggestive of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hahaha&lt;/span&gt; you got stood up!". I paid the exact amount and I almost fled!! Now I realised what Cafe' Coffee Day's Tag line really meant - " &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a lot can happen over a cup of coffee&lt;/span&gt; "  Believe me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-5988281756459023007?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/5988281756459023007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=5988281756459023007' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/5988281756459023007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/5988281756459023007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2008/01/coffee-with-self.html' title='Coffee with self'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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-3935035017013023204.post-2907515158822960938</id><published>2007-07-06T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T09:43:16.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is over :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It is over! I never ever thought it would be, but it is.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After three years of absolute fun with her, I had to move on; and I am not  ashamed to admit that I am completely responsible for it.My best Valentine's day  was spent with her!! She was magical! Man, everytime I think of the good times  we had, I feel sad; and Uhhh she got soo hot at times, I just could'nt keep her  down!!!! There were times when my friends used to visit me just to check  her  out, and that gave me a wierd high. She was the talk of the town. She was  definitely a showpiece!!&lt;br /&gt;      I spent a LOT of money on her, she was high  maintenance. I knew all this very well, but I just could'nt say anything as she  was the only one who could keep me satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;But now, everything has  changed. I took her to the limits, but she just could'nt satisfy me anymore, I  had to let her go...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was really hard, but i did what i had to.......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;br /&gt;       Yes, my ATI Radeon 9800 XT Graphics  accelerator ceased to function on saturday 9th June, 2007 @ 10AM.&lt;br /&gt;I got it on  Feb 14th 2004, it was the best graphics card available in the market.&lt;br /&gt;That  graphics card alone cost Rs.32,000 when a whole PC did'nt cost that much. The  crazy gamer that I was , I just could not resist buying it. It produced THE  ultimate visual/gaming experience then.&lt;br /&gt;and yes, it got really hot and it  needed separate cooling fans to cool it down;&lt;br /&gt;and yes, it was high  maintenance as i had to buy a more powerful 500W SMPS because it required a  separate power connector. and yes, it was the talk of the town and my friends  came home to check the graphic performance out! and yes, it kept me happy if not  'satisfied'! I am completely responsible for it as I tried overclocking it last  week.&lt;br /&gt;It has stopped working now and i have to let it go.&lt;br /&gt;May its soul  Rest In Peace!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;PS: How to use LJ cut in Blogspot??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-2907515158822960938?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/2907515158822960938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=2907515158822960938' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/2907515158822960938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/2907515158822960938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-is-over.html' title='It is over :('/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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-3935035017013023204.post-8100644312373319880</id><published>2007-07-06T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T09:40:40.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The concept of CUTTING</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STATUTORY WARNING : &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CIGARETTE SMOKING IS MORE  INJURIOUS TO A NON-SMOKING YOU THAN TO YOUR FRIEND WHO IS SMOKING RIGHT NEXT TO  YOU. HENCE, SMOKE AWAY TO GLORY!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I am not a chain smoker, nor am i controlled by cigarettes. I am the kind who smokes  occasionaly when my friends smoke...no..this is not called peer pressure. "i  Hang out with them anyway; instead of harming myself by smoking passively, why  not do it the right way" is my philosophy..And by the way,my new years  resolution was not to smoke. After that went down the drain like the election  manifesto of Indian Politicians, here i am writing about my filter-tip-buddy and  the concept of cutting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Let me try and do this the Wiki way!.. here goes....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;       &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cutting &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;    -    &lt;em&gt;kat'eeng &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cutting&lt;/em&gt; is a term popularly used in the  South Indian city of Chennai by its youth to define sharing of a  cigarette/Beedi/joint among peers. This sharing is usually due to one of the  following reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Impoverishment of few or all of the peers  involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.When the number of cigarettes/Beedis/Joints smoked by one  of the  peers, exceeds the self-imposed limit and the feeling of guilt sets in,  but the urge to smoke gets the better of one of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.When the peer  group wants to symbolise everlasting(ironic aint it) friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.To  reduce the probability of getting caught with a cigarette in hand, by relatives,  parents and girlfriends' friends. (I dint mention girlfriend on purpose,because  i assumed one would know the whereabouts of one's girlfriend and would stay  nowhere within a 3KM radius of that whereabout).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few experts in the  field of &lt;em&gt;cutting&lt;/em&gt; are blatanly against point #2 as they say that there  is an idle time between two consecutive drags when one smokes a full cigarette;  Whereas when &lt;em&gt;Cutting&lt;/em&gt;, one takes a drag and passes the cigarette on to  his peer almost immediately. This compensates the idle time of the former,  thereby enabling a &lt;em&gt;cutter&lt;/em&gt; to increase the chances of getting lung  cancer as effectively as a normal smoker would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Types of  Cutting&lt;/strong&gt;   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There are various sports in &lt;em&gt;cutting&lt;/em&gt;, the popular among these are  :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The F16 : This is where the peer group forms a circle, and keeps  the the dragged smoke in ones lungs till the cigarette/beedi/joint completes one  full round and comes back to them. The ones to blow the smoke out are eliminated  from the elite circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last man standing : This is a normal form of  &lt;em&gt;cutting&lt;/em&gt; where the person to stub the cigarette sponsors the next 20s  pack for the group. The misers that people are, end up smoking the filter and to  pass it on to the next person, just to save that 80/- and end up paying in lakhs  for chemo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;External Links&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;* &lt;a href="http://www.shortcuttoimpotency.com/"&gt;http://www.shortcuttoimpotency.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.wannadieyoung.com/"&gt;http://www.wannadieyoung.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.cutting-central.com/"&gt;http://www.cutting-central.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-8100644312373319880?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/8100644312373319880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=8100644312373319880' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/8100644312373319880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/8100644312373319880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2007/07/concept-of-cutting.html' title='The concept of CUTTING'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3935035017013023204.post-550395049124478555</id><published>2007-07-06T09:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T09:36:27.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The NOSEant</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Warning: Human beings with crazy quotient of anything below 15 on a  scale of 10 are advised to stay away from this blog.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; There is something fundamentally wrong with the  concept of using deodorants,room freshners, shoe spray thingie etc. I mean,  think about it, are the room, the human body,and the shoe the only sources of  foul olfaction. This problem should be dealt with at the receiving end, namely  the NOSE. That is a one stop solution to all our stinkin problems. After a lot  of analysis, i have arrived at this solution. There should be something like a  cologne, that can be applied just under our nose.Something that would smell nice  all the time. Lets call it the nose-ant.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   Here are a few practical  advantages of using a nose-ant:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   1. You can choose the smell you  like, that way you do not have to worry about the idiot next to you using a  really strong and head-ache-inducing-i-wanna-chokeyoutodea&lt;wbr&gt;th kinda  cologne.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   2. You forget to use nose-ant, you suffer. Unlike the  case of deodorants(yeah i believe in bad karma)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   3. You can  overtake an ONYX garbage lorry with confidence.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   4. You wouldnt  have to smell anything bad ever again.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   Now,I know what you're  thinking, what if i want to smell something nice? say nature, the rain. Well you  can use a neutralizer for that, then smell the rain,you can always apply the  nose-ant back. Its just like wearing a helmet when you are riding a bike, and  you occasionally remove it to have that 'wind in your hair' feeling!  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;       All this time we have been trying to protect ourselves  from rain by trying to hold an insanely huge water resistant Sheet in the sky  instead of using an umbrella.&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-550395049124478555?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/550395049124478555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=550395049124478555' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/550395049124478555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/550395049124478555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2007/07/noseant.html' title='The NOSEant'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3935035017013023204.post-4044205023807052960</id><published>2007-07-06T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T09:09:18.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The T9 Blunder</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have been pretty busy with work lately, and here comes the breather. This  happened to a friend of mine a few months back and that was the day, he (and  eventually, i) bid a permanent farewell to Rajini-style-no-looking-at-the-screen  type of messaging. Here is what happened, when Shreya ( name changed for the  heck of it ) messaged him.&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;     shreya: hey da, whats up..what  u doin?&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     he    : Nothin, me jus picked up pink &lt;em&gt;panther&lt;/em&gt;  from the store....gotta be great&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     Sh    : WTH?? what crap..wat  is with u&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     he    : wat? its supposed to be really nice, i'll  lend them to you, and u decide how it is. my frnd said twas really good&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     sh    : ur a sicko..wat is with u.. goodbye..&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;      He    : But shreya...... why...&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     (No  reply)....&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;     Our hero could not comprehend what was  happening, Shreya was mad at him for no apparent reason; And so, he decided to  read the sent messages to analyse what might have offended her..Then..he saw his  own  message that embarassed him to the very core, so much that he did'nt  message anyone for a very long  time.....&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; PS : If you are still  wondering what is wrong with that message, try typing the word in italics in ur  phone with T9 on&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-4044205023807052960?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/4044205023807052960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=4044205023807052960' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/4044205023807052960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/4044205023807052960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2007/07/t9-blunder.html' title='The T9 Blunder'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3935035017013023204.post-765284641494571659</id><published>2007-07-06T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T09:08:12.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 5 Desperate Acts!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Top five (extremely desperate) things men whom i know (very well) have done  for women...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;#5 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Second year of college, Mr.X has an infatuation on a girl who is a friend of  Mr.Y. The girl mentions casually over phone that she needs some book and Mr.X  without the slightest hesitation swears that he has the book with him right now.  Mr.Y , the sweet guy that he is, arranges for the book from some friend, and  Mr.X gladly rides 30Km around the city and delivers the book at the girls'  doorstep within 2 hours of that phone call. All for that 5 minutes of meeting  her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;#4&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was the tenth grade and he was insanely in love with his classmate (he  still is). His lady love used to come by bi-cycle to school. Even though his  house was so close to the school that, one can practically hear him pee if one  listens intently, he would come only by bi-cycle; And would time his journey to  perfection that, he and his love reach at the exact same instant; just for that  "hi" to be exchanged!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;#3&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was the 9th Grade and He had a huge crush on her. Just to increase the  probability of running into her, he joined an art class that was conducted in  the same building that she lived in, even though he had absolutely no idea what  the class was all about. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;#2&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was the eleventh grade, and a certain very-cute junior was in class  10.knowing nothing else to do, he actually went into the lab, searched for her  record-Notebook, and flicked it. Now that her record had been taken hostage, he  calls her up and informs her that her record notebook is with him and asked  her meet him to get the record back!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and now for the mother of all Comedies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;#1&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was the first year of college and he had been madly in love with her from  7th Std. She had come to town for a couple of days and decided to call him 2  hours before her train's departure.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She: &lt;em&gt;Hey, im leaving in a coupla hours, just wanted to say bye before i  leave&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He: &lt;em&gt;Cool... when does it leave&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She : &lt;em&gt;10PM&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;   * and now for the biggest act of desperation ever....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He: &lt;em&gt;Hey what an unbelievable co-incidence!! my train leaves at 10:15PM,  will meet u there... bye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This guy actually rode down to the railway station with an empty air-bag  ,memorized some train Name and number that left at around 10:15 from the  departure screen to make it authentic and met her for a few minutes. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Wonder when women will start doing such crazy stuff!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-765284641494571659?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/765284641494571659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=765284641494571659' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/765284641494571659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/765284641494571659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2007/07/top-5-desperate-acts.html' title='Top 5 Desperate Acts!'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3935035017013023204.post-4456497047603065425</id><published>2007-07-06T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T09:06:36.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rockvan Theory of Pizza Relativity</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    There is a theory put forward by a prominent scientist Dr.Reignaunt RockVan &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; called The Theory Of Pizza Relativity. Dr.RockVan, in a state of  extreme inebriation came up with this ground-breaking theory, and believes that  ones' true genius comes out only in such a state. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    When asked about this theory, Dr.Rockvan said that it is a very simple  and straight forward one that can be applied to any being on this planet. It is  believed to be in the Psychology genre. Many well-known psychologists have  branded this theory  a "Master Piece" as it defines the characteristics of human  behaviour in a never-before manner.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The postulates of the theory are as follows: Dr.Rockvan's Exact  words were&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"Machaan.... Every Person in this planet is like a Pizza; The base remains  the same, just the toppings are different"&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;   According this, Dr.Rockvan claims himself to be a "Margherita" as he is  plain and simple in appearance, but has a very pleasing personality  (self-proclaimed).&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; Further research in this field leads us to the following conclusions,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Michael Schumacher -  Thin crust Garden Veg pizza.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Riya Sen               -  Spicy Paneer-Chilli Pizza&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Lalu Prasad           -  Mushroom Pizza  (left in the open for thirteen  days)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Adnan Sami           -  Bacon Double Cheeseburger Pizza&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pamela Anderson   -  Stuffed Cheese-burst Pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;   Dr.RockVan himself is sure of winning a Nobel Prize. When inquired  about his surety of winning the prize, he said that he distinctly remembers  Alfred Nobel giving a 'thumbs Up' from his grave the moment this theory was  postulated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-4456497047603065425?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/4456497047603065425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=4456497047603065425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/4456497047603065425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/4456497047603065425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2007/07/rockvan-theory-of-pizza-relativity.html' title='Rockvan Theory of Pizza Relativity'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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-3935035017013023204.post-3084880616753955391</id><published>2007-07-06T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T10:28:12.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Blog</title><content type='html'>Hey there!&lt;br /&gt;   this is officially my first post on blogspot; I am just going to copy-paste the entries I had posted earlier on my (ex-)company's intranet Blog. ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3935035017013023204-3084880616753955391?l=pixtar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/feeds/3084880616753955391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3935035017013023204&amp;postID=3084880616753955391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/3084880616753955391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3935035017013023204/posts/default/3084880616753955391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pixtar.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-blog.html' title='My First Blog'/><author><name>karthik</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11883790585412680623</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></feed>
