<?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-412692105711886382</id><updated>2011-12-06T14:08:57.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MIKE'S BLAH BLAH BLOG</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-1879246401567033117</id><published>2010-12-13T14:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T14:46:40.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;SONGS OF THE SEASON #3:&lt;/strong&gt; "Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer / had a very shiny nose. / And if you ever saw him, / you would even say it glows." Who among us doesn't know the lyrics to this Christmas classic? But did you know it was created as a marketing ploy by the Montgomery Ward department store?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TQaTmqSupKI/AAAAAAAABeE/S9XJwp-JZoQ/s1600/175px-Rudolph%252C_The_Red-Nosed_Reindeer_Marion_Books.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 114px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 164px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550285883177870498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TQaTmqSupKI/AAAAAAAABeE/S9XJwp-JZoQ/s200/175px-Rudolph%252C_The_Red-Nosed_Reindeer_Marion_Books.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The store had been buying and giving away coloring books for Christmas every year, and decided in 1939 that creating their own book would save money. A guy by the name of Robert L. May was given the project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was his brother law, Johnny Marks, who put the story to music in the 1940's. Gene Autry put it on wax in 1949,and it's been played on the radio every Christmas since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Destiny's Child version. I just love how they work themselves into the classic claymation scenes we're all so familiar with ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RYw3ue5vIuM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RYw3ue5vIuM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-1879246401567033117?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1879246401567033117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1879246401567033117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/12/songs-of-season-3-rudolph-red-nosed.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TQaTmqSupKI/AAAAAAAABeE/S9XJwp-JZoQ/s72-c/175px-Rudolph%252C_The_Red-Nosed_Reindeer_Marion_Books.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-180556453605169231</id><published>2010-12-02T14:04:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T14:08:58.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;SONGS OF THE SEASON #2:&lt;/strong&gt; The "Huffington Post" recently named it one of the &lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/11/29/most-annoying-christmas-songs_n_789221.html#s193379"&gt;"9 Most Annoying Christmas Songs." &lt;/a&gt;It's one of those songs that continues to divide a musical nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether it's seasonal ear candy or a cringe-worthy track, "Wonderful Christmas Time" by Paul McCartney tends to enjoy significant airplay this time of the year, and quite frankly I'm ok with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it gets dissed a lot because it was written by a former Beatle many consider one of the greatest songwriters of all time, and yes, it sounds like it took him all of 5 minutes to write this one, but take it for what it is ... a bouncy, up beat, late 70's song about a happy holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hate if you want, but "Wonderful Christmas Time" makes me want to go out and do something Christmasy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6o8-eLZhrOA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6o8-eLZhrOA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-180556453605169231?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/180556453605169231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/180556453605169231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/12/huffington-post-opinion-piece-recently.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-7462623060344808004</id><published>2010-11-30T20:04:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T16:50:48.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;DEJA VIDEO/ THE FLAME:&lt;/strong&gt; MTV??? We don't need no stinkin' MTV! Not in this new digital world we live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this video post I set the way-way-back machine to 1988. The year Cheap Trick finally got a #1 song with what we in the biz call a "power ballad".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please give this song the proper respect and wave your Bic in the air. And remember ... after the fire, after all the rain, I will be the flame!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/muhFxXce6nA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/muhFxXce6nA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-7462623060344808004?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7462623060344808004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7462623060344808004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/11/deja-video-mtv-we-dont-need-no-stinkin.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-4775612181390996667</id><published>2010-11-29T18:08:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T18:13:33.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;SONGS OF THE SEASON #1:&lt;/strong&gt; It's one of the few Christmas songs I look forward to playing every year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a Christmas song hater by any means, but when you've been playing them every year since 1980, as I have, and you're pretty much a captive audience when they come on, as I am, you have a whole new appreciation for the volume control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when this one comes on, I'm cranking it up to "11" &lt;em&gt;Spinal Tap reference :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm willing to bet even the most feminist woman in the room can't help but sing along to Mariah Carey's Christmas declaration about a woman who doesn't care about presents or lights; all she desires for Christmas is to spend time with her lovah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="_cx" value="11244"&gt;&lt;param name="_cy" value="9101"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yXQViqx6GMY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="Src" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yXQViqx6GMY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="WMode" value="Window"&gt;&lt;param name="Play" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Loop" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Quality" value="High"&gt;&lt;param name="SAlign" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Menu" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Base" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="AllowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="Scale" value="ShowAll"&gt;&lt;param name="DeviceFont" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="EmbedMovie" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="BGColor" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SWRemote" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="MovieData" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SeamlessTabbing" value="1"&gt;&lt;param name="Profile" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="ProfileAddress" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="ProfilePort" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yXQViqx6GMY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And fellas, don't lie. You dig “All I want for Christmas Is You” too. Even if won't cop to it out loud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-4775612181390996667?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4775612181390996667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4775612181390996667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/11/songs-of-season-1-its-one-of-few.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-1947542488964400434</id><published>2010-11-17T18:39:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T20:21:56.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;DEJA VIDEO/BUFFALO STANCE:&lt;/strong&gt; MTV is never going to start playing videos again. I'm starting to accept that. But who needs them to anyway in this new digital world we live in, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this post, I'm taking you back to 1989. When hip hop wasn't about bitches and ho's. It was about fun. And none was more fun than Nenah Cherry's "Buffalo Stance" ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="390"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JWsRz3TJDEY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;version=3"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JWsRz3TJDEY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="640" height="390"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-1947542488964400434?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1947542488964400434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1947542488964400434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/11/deja-video-mtv-is-never-going-to-start.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-7780356418936008448</id><published>2010-08-20T03:50:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T03:55:43.519-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TG5Q6BiBDrI/AAAAAAAABTU/_NS8ZDeUYXc/s1600/whoo+hoo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 55px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 78px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507428352094441138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TG5Q6BiBDrI/AAAAAAAABTU/_NS8ZDeUYXc/s200/whoo+hoo.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHY MEN ARE NEVER DEPRESSED:&lt;/strong&gt; There are so many things that could be bringing you down these days. The economy sucks. Your team isn't looking so hot. No worries. Guys are wired to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our happiness could have a lot to do with the advantages we enjoy and the simple outlook we have on life. Consider ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Wedding plans take care of themselves.&lt;br /&gt;2. The world is your urinal.&lt;br /&gt;3. Same work, more pay.&lt;br /&gt;4. Wrinkles add character.&lt;br /&gt;5. People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them.&lt;br /&gt;6. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.&lt;br /&gt;7. Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack.&lt;br /&gt;8. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.&lt;br /&gt;9. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.&lt;br /&gt;10. You only have to shave your face and neck.&lt;br /&gt;11. You can play with toys all your life.&lt;br /&gt;12. You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.&lt;br /&gt;13. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.&lt;br /&gt;14. You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is "too icky."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-7780356418936008448?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7780356418936008448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7780356418936008448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-men-are-never-depressed-there-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TG5Q6BiBDrI/AAAAAAAABTU/_NS8ZDeUYXc/s72-c/whoo+hoo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-5300207053529474811</id><published>2010-06-17T10:44:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T11:00:05.975-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TBpUQAJVnFI/AAAAAAAABR8/_Qv2icChA4I/s1600/blah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 124px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 103px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483788130170805330" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TBpUQAJVnFI/AAAAAAAABR8/_Qv2icChA4I/s200/blah.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NEVER GO THERE WITH A WOMAN:&lt;/strong&gt; Having been around the block a few times (thrice married!), I've learned a few lessons the hard way when it comes to woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the most important I can share with you is that there are certain topics you should NEVER negatively approach with a woman. Allow me to share my wisdom with you - free of charge, cuz that's the kind of guy I am ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Weight&lt;br /&gt;2. Age&lt;br /&gt;3. Driving skills&lt;br /&gt;4. Parenting skills&lt;br /&gt;5. Cooking skills &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't go there. You've been warned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-5300207053529474811?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5300207053529474811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5300207053529474811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/06/never-go-there-with-woman-having-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/TBpUQAJVnFI/AAAAAAAABR8/_Qv2icChA4I/s72-c/blah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-7325809971295087078</id><published>2010-05-05T04:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T04:08:10.805-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S-FDH78ClbI/AAAAAAAABQU/UE-PPr3_AUM/s1600/05_10_10_cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 99px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 136px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467725226232157618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S-FDH78ClbI/AAAAAAAABQU/UE-PPr3_AUM/s200/05_10_10_cover.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BULLOCK'S BABY:&lt;/strong&gt; Who does Sandra Bullock think she is adopting an American baby! Doesn’t she know there are African and Ethiopian babies by the boat load looking to be adopted by rich, white American actresses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She should take her cue from Angelina Jolie: you MAKE YOUR OWN American babies and ADOPT from OTHER countries!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And, yes, I'm being sarcastic.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-7325809971295087078?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7325809971295087078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7325809971295087078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/05/bullocks-baby-who-does-sandra-bullock.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S-FDH78ClbI/AAAAAAAABQU/UE-PPr3_AUM/s72-c/05_10_10_cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-3620277589439096177</id><published>2010-04-12T05:59:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T10:09:19.110-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;TIME TO FIT INTO LAST YEAR'S SHORTS:&lt;/strong&gt; I’d love to have a personal trainer…but I’m…..I’m….what’s the word I’m looking for? Oh yeah – lazy and cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459283252621744002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S8NFMZjCF4I/AAAAAAAABPE/4_eHNnudQKg/s400/cartman-notfat.gif" border="0" /&gt;So what I do is I go to the gym and I work on the machines right next to the person working with a personal trainer…so I can listen in. Anybody else do that??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-3620277589439096177?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/3620277589439096177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/3620277589439096177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-has-sprung.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S8NFMZjCF4I/AAAAAAAABPE/4_eHNnudQKg/s72-c/cartman-notfat.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-1102287717516405163</id><published>2010-03-04T19:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T09:59:59.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S5Z-RdxgORI/AAAAAAAABOE/rBYegTHKYEc/s1600-h/mm_einstein.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446679637866330386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 62px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 75px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S5Z-RdxgORI/AAAAAAAABOE/rBYegTHKYEc/s200/mm_einstein.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;WHAT'S IN A NAME?:&lt;/strong&gt; I’ve always thought it would be awful to be born with the last name of Hitler, or Stalin, or Bush. I mean, that’s a lot of baggage to carry around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the worst last name to have would have be Einstein. First, because people would expect you to be smart. Then, if you were in a brain-storming meeting…and you came up with an idea ... somebody inevitably would say ‘Thanks, Einstein’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you wouldn’t know if they were really thanking you…or just being condescending.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-1102287717516405163?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1102287717516405163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1102287717516405163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/03/whats-in-name-ive-always-thought-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S5Z-RdxgORI/AAAAAAAABOE/rBYegTHKYEc/s72-c/mm_einstein.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-4392260594055678627</id><published>2010-03-03T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T10:53:03.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S46c6_-1cZI/AAAAAAAABM8/ciftCcDVxFk/s1600-h/blog_pinkhouses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461536958837138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 110px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S46c6_-1cZI/AAAAAAAABM8/ciftCcDVxFk/s200/blog_pinkhouses.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;IT JUST BUGS ME:&lt;/strong&gt; John Mellencamp's use of a phrase in his song "Pink Houses" has bugged me since the 80's. I would've blogged about it then but,well, there was no such thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm only blogging about it now because I just read where fans want him to run for the Indiana Senate, and you know how one thought leads to another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the phrase ... The lyric goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And there's a woman in the kitchen cleanin' up the evenin' slop. And he looks at her and says 'Hey Darlin', I can remember when you could stop a clock&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, Mellencamp means she was a hottie back in her prime. However, having a 'face that could stop a clock' means you're not just ugly you're FUGLY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess he couldn't rhyme "traffic".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-4392260594055678627?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4392260594055678627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4392260594055678627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/03/it-just-bugs-me-john-mellencamps-use-of_03.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S46c6_-1cZI/AAAAAAAABM8/ciftCcDVxFk/s72-c/blog_pinkhouses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-5485475106477284429</id><published>2010-02-11T10:05:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T10:37:12.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A FEW RANDOM THOUGHTS ...&lt;/strong&gt; 1.) Have you seen those Skechers Shape Ups? I &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S3Q_LzB194I/AAAAAAAABMU/2433LsBzXII/s1600-h/blog_skechers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437040122052081538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 66px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 45px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S3Q_LzB194I/AAAAAAAABMU/2433LsBzXII/s400/blog_skechers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;gotta tell you, I'm intrigued with the idea of getting in shape without having to go the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a sucker for things that feed into my desire for results without having to work for it. I know, I know, I'm what's wrong with America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S3Q_RzEVFpI/AAAAAAAABMc/_KAe60m40VE/s1600-h/blog_ellen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437040225141724818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 62px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 62px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S3Q_RzEVFpI/AAAAAAAABMc/_KAe60m40VE/s400/blog_ellen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;2.) I think I'm going to like Ellen on "Idol". I feel she'll bring the sweetness Paula did - when she was coherent, of course - and the light heartedness Kara can't pull off because she's an evil robot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) I looooooove the E-Trade babies! I dare you to watch this video and not laugh out loud ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/U8Ev5HgGACg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/U8Ev5HgGACg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-5485475106477284429?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5485475106477284429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5485475106477284429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/02/few-random-thoughts.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S3Q_LzB194I/AAAAAAAABMU/2433LsBzXII/s72-c/blog_skechers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-7010464236525645028</id><published>2010-01-07T08:44:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T05:31:03.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S0YFJ_tmqAI/AAAAAAAABLE/LFSbLqsoZkM/s1600-h/cox.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424028470494013442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 128px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 96px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S0YFJ_tmqAI/AAAAAAAABLE/LFSbLqsoZkM/s200/cox.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;COUGAR OR MILF? ... &lt;/strong&gt;One of my favorite shows on T.V is the new Courtney Cox show. "Cougar Town" cracks me up. But, ladies, let me ask you ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you really like being referred to as a 'cougar'? Wouldn't you much prefer MILF? To me, a 'cougar' is old and sad and tragically desperate, whereas a MILF can be a 18 or 40 something year old mom who's just plain hot and sexy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-7010464236525645028?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7010464236525645028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7010464236525645028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2010/01/cougar-or-milf-one-of-my-favorite-shows.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/S0YFJ_tmqAI/AAAAAAAABLE/LFSbLqsoZkM/s72-c/cox.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-6750033060810053673</id><published>2009-11-17T18:16:00.009-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T18:53:54.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405254706145372418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SwNShFhNqQI/AAAAAAAABI8/oGB5bZ8OlDQ/s200/xmasgift.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GIFT GIVING IDEAS FOR YOUR MAN ...&lt;/strong&gt; See if this sounds familiar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What would you like for Christmas, babe?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Whatever."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, what do you like?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Whatever you get me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What ... do ... you ... WANT???!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't really need anything."&lt;/div&gt;"Ughh!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relax, ladies, guys really aren't that tough to buy for. Let your Uncle Mikey help you out with a few suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SwNSTU_DFLI/AAAAAAAABIs/u9FvDU4ybqw/s1600/xmasgift2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405254469778871474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SwNSTU_DFLI/AAAAAAAABIs/u9FvDU4ybqw/s200/xmasgift2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;--Guys love tickets to sporting events and concerts. Why? Because they can get hammered and yell in public. That's part of the gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't mean one of those lame bands YOU like. I mean the sort of concert where he can get a T-shirt with a skull or a gun on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Guys also love beer and red meat. I'm not sure what you can do with that, but I imagine you'll think of something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SwNSZtxmvTI/AAAAAAAABI0/86Xy7rY94Io/s1600/xmasgift3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405254579512589618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 52px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 86px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SwNSZtxmvTI/AAAAAAAABI0/86Xy7rY94Io/s200/xmasgift3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;--Lastly, gadgets and technology. Your guy will never be disappointed if you get him something that enhances his TV-watching, music-listening, or pornography-downloading experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stereotypical? Yup. Untrue? Nope. We're simple creatures, what can I tell you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-6750033060810053673?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6750033060810053673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6750033060810053673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/11/gift-giving-ideas-for-your-man.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SwNShFhNqQI/AAAAAAAABI8/oGB5bZ8OlDQ/s72-c/xmasgift.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-4172796409604256040</id><published>2009-10-23T09:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T09:25:19.305-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;GETTING YOUR SNUGGIE FREAK ON:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SuHKq7uAbfI/AAAAAAAABGM/CiNJlNATFtw/s1600-h/night-in-31.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395816667500539378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 110px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 80px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SuHKq7uAbfI/AAAAAAAABGM/CiNJlNATFtw/s200/night-in-31.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I was checking out those fancy, new animal-print SNUGGIES online the other day thinking maybe I'd get me, the wife, and our dogs a few when I stumbled across a website called The Snuggie Sutra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like the classic Kama Sutra sex guide only it shows you different sex positions that involve your Snuggie!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My personal favorite, by the way, is "The Tablecloth." That's when the girl ... well, let's just say it involves the Snuggie's armholes. Anyhoo ... those cold El Paso nights are coming so &lt;a href="http://thesnuggiesutra.com/"&gt;here's the link in case you ever want to get your Snuggie freak on!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-4172796409604256040?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4172796409604256040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4172796409604256040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-i-was-checking-out-those-fancy-new.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SuHKq7uAbfI/AAAAAAAABGM/CiNJlNATFtw/s72-c/night-in-31.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-7622780018607574820</id><published>2009-10-06T19:22:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T19:37:38.057-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SsvwSClJGBI/AAAAAAAABFs/M3EefLsHwwk/s1600-h/mbcn996l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389665571799898130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 153px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SsvwSClJGBI/AAAAAAAABFs/M3EefLsHwwk/s200/mbcn996l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHY HEALTHCARE IS SO EXPENSIVE:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Here's a joke a came across that illustrates why you're paying an arm and a leg every month to have health insurance ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman brought a very limp duck to the vet and laid her pet on the table. The vet pulled out his stethoscope, listened to the bird's chest and after a moment or two, shook his head sadly and said, "I'm sorry, your duck is dead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure? How can you be so sure? I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. The Lab stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the vet brought in cat, which jumped on the table and also sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat looked up at the vet, shook its head, Meowed softly and strolled out of the room. The vet said, "I'm sorry, but like I said, the duck is dead." Then he hands her a bill for $250.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The duck's owner cries out"$250? Just to tell me my duck is dead?" The vet shrugged and said, "If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $250."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-7622780018607574820?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7622780018607574820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7622780018607574820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/10/why-healthcare-is-so-expensive-heres.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SsvwSClJGBI/AAAAAAAABFs/M3EefLsHwwk/s72-c/mbcn996l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-1077122273790054173</id><published>2009-09-20T08:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T09:00:40.719-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SrZCrvsrx7I/AAAAAAAABEg/IiPcX7mJdas/s1600-h/guyphone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383563723873699762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 127px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 98px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SrZCrvsrx7I/AAAAAAAABEg/IiPcX7mJdas/s200/guyphone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHY DOESN'T HE CALL?:&lt;/strong&gt; I overheard some girls discussing the other day some date one of them went on and how he hadn't called since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They wondered why some guys don't call after what seemed like a great date. Sometimes even after they tell you they had a nice time. Why don't you ever hear from them ever again, they wanted to know. It would be nice to know why, they all agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now they didn't ask for my opinion, as I was more eavesdropping than anything else, but if they had here's what I would've said: "Isn't not calling the same as calling?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, he didn't call again so isn't the message the same as if he DID call to say it wasn't going to work out, have a nice life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the reason most guys don't call is because you ladies won't just leave it at that. You want details. For instance, if a guy called you a day or two later and said thanks but no thanks he just ain't feeling you, you wouldn't just say, "OK, that's cool. Sorry you feel that way. Bye". Nope. You'd likely have a list of questions. And NO guy wants to spend time answering questions from a girl he likes, much less one he's not into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's why some guys would rather you just got the hint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-1077122273790054173?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1077122273790054173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1077122273790054173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/09/why-doesnt-he-call-i-overheard-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SrZCrvsrx7I/AAAAAAAABEg/IiPcX7mJdas/s72-c/guyphone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-7412121455936104039</id><published>2009-08-14T03:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T03:19:54.786-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SoUr8GCyttI/AAAAAAAABBg/VV2qdmpXtx4/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369746442123654866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 122px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SoUr8GCyttI/AAAAAAAABBg/VV2qdmpXtx4/s400/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BETTER THAN SEX:&lt;/strong&gt; A new survey in The Netherlands finds 88% of the people polled said the most enjoyable activity they do is go to the bathroom. That was followed by chatting with friends and outdoor activities. Way down the list? Sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know some of you are reading this going 'What the???!!!'. But I have to agree. I always thought when you go out to eat…and it hits you wrong… you know, your stomach is grumbling and you’re crossing your butt-cheeks and your eyes as you race home. And when you finally get to sit down…that feeling is better than the best sex you’ve ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what I’m talking about? Your arms are covered with goose-bumps and the hair is standing up on the back of your neck. You can’t beat that feeling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or maybe it's just me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-7412121455936104039?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7412121455936104039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7412121455936104039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/08/better-than-sex-new-survey-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SoUr8GCyttI/AAAAAAAABBg/VV2qdmpXtx4/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-9121298278041367340</id><published>2009-07-28T05:29:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T10:52:05.361-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sm8qSAE70UI/AAAAAAAABBQ/7_ykme-ICNQ/s1600-h/mm_breaking-news.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363552169968259394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 89px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 85px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sm8qSAE70UI/AAAAAAAABBQ/7_ykme-ICNQ/s200/mm_breaking-news.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;THIS JUST IN!:&lt;/strong&gt; It's an urgent breaking news flash, friends ... Texting while you drive is not safe. Yes, we now have "the first study of drivers texting inside their vehicles" to show us that texting and driving is bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The $6 million-dollar study by the Virginia Tech Transportation Institute was conducted by outfitting the cabs of 18 wheelers with video cameras over the course of a month and half. what they found is that when drivers texted, their risk of getting in an accident was 23 times greater than when not texting. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363552310675943170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sm8qaMQQrwI/AAAAAAAABBY/KdcDz-pjREY/s200/texting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;They also found that in the moments before a crash or near crash, drivers typically spent nearly five seconds looking at their devices. At 65 mph, that's enough time to cover more than the length of a football field! The director for the Institute that conducted the study says this not only proves you should never text while driving, "It should be illegal.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm. Question. Why do we need somebody to pass a law to tell us it's a bad idea to take your eyes and mind off the road while operating the equivalent of a 2000 pound bullet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why do we have to spend $6 million on a study to find all this out? Shouldn't it just be common sense? What can be so important that it's worth your or my life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-9121298278041367340?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/9121298278041367340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/9121298278041367340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/07/this-just-in-its-urgent-breaking-news.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sm8qSAE70UI/AAAAAAAABBQ/7_ykme-ICNQ/s72-c/mm_breaking-news.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-4749556824539470880</id><published>2009-06-18T05:14:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T10:39:30.090-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;WHEN DID UNDERWEAR BECOME SO COMPLICATED?:&lt;/strong&gt; I recently went shopping for a few things for my boy, Mookie, one of which was underwear. When did underwear become so complicated? There were ... &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351304506814358370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SkOnGLWd42I/AAAAAAAABAA/-wvrhwBSrpA/s320/mansUnderwear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Briefs&lt;br /&gt;Boxers&lt;br /&gt;Boxer-Briefs&lt;br /&gt;Trunks&lt;br /&gt;Thongs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made of ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woven cotton&lt;br /&gt;Knit cotton&lt;br /&gt;Lycra&lt;br /&gt;Spandex&lt;br /&gt;"Microfiber" synthetics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In high-rise, mid-rise or low-rise in your choice of a zillion colors and patterns. It's enough to make your head spin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SkOnUMAtvZI/AAAAAAAABAI/BV9P3Zm02N0/s1600-h/underoos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351304747509726610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 126px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 77px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SkOnUMAtvZI/AAAAAAAABAI/BV9P3Zm02N0/s200/underoos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Underwear used to be simple back in the day. It went like this: diapers, Underoos, then Tighty-whiteys 'til your death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does everything have to be so complicated these days?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-4749556824539470880?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4749556824539470880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/4749556824539470880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-did-underwear-become-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SkOnGLWd42I/AAAAAAAABAA/-wvrhwBSrpA/s72-c/mansUnderwear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-1474827542232578427</id><published>2009-05-26T10:08:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T18:04:57.945-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sh3TIs-PcoI/AAAAAAAAA_g/x0g9jjTqXao/s1600-h/mags.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340656879595909762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sh3TIs-PcoI/AAAAAAAAA_g/x0g9jjTqXao/s200/mags.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;I LOVES ME THE CHICK 'ZINES:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm as manly as they come. Although my wife and morning show partners would beg to differ. In fact, I'm man enough to admit that I love flipping through the chick magazines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find them not only educational - it's like reading their playbook - but pretty on most of the time. Like the one on the 4 Things You Should Never Joke With A Man About.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the Yenta's at Cosmo, when you're making lighthearted jokes about a man, stay away from the following supersensitive subjects. I'll stop them when they're lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;#1.) HAIR LOSS. If he's thinning even a little bit, it's probably a sore subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2.) HIS PAYCHECK. If his salary is less than impressive and his wife or girlfriend jokes that she's a sugar mama, he's bound to feel emasculated. &lt;em&gt;It's a little stone age, I know, but most men still like to think THEY'RE the ones who bring home the bacon.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3.) HIS MOM. HE'S allowed to joke about his mom but if you or anyone else does it, it's a different story. Most men get defensive about their moms, and making jokes can quickly start a fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4.) HIS UNIT. Joking about how underwhelming a guy's package is might seem lighthearted, but if there's any truth to it . . . or even if there's not . . . he won't think it's funny at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, Yup, Yup, and Yup! Especially the last one. Take it from a guy ... keep quiet about his junk. Unless you plan on lying, and saying it's enormous!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-1474827542232578427?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1474827542232578427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1474827542232578427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-loves-me-chick-zines-im-as-manly-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sh3TIs-PcoI/AAAAAAAAA_g/x0g9jjTqXao/s72-c/mags.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-5377596813762370805</id><published>2009-05-12T09:20:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T09:49:01.957-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;75-YEAR-OLD MRS. PARTRIDGE TO POSE NUDE IN "PLAYBOY"?:&lt;/strong&gt; Many a 70's child learned about himself while watching "The Partridge Family" - if you know what I mean and I think you do! And it wasn't all because of SUSAN DEY. Some of us by the sight of the show's resident MILF, SHIRLEY JONES. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334959219069732082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmVJNfYxPI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/tp3oU3xMs9Q/s400/shirley.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Well, Shirley is all growed up now (75 years old) and quite the Mature Minx. In fact, Shirley's longtime husband and manager, Marty Ingels, is all over the news these days because he thinks it would be a good idea for his wife to POSE NUDE IN "PLAYBOY". &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334959329974349346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmVPqpG7iI/AAAAAAAAA9g/t3O6V_b88k0/s400/stupid_shirley3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I did some research and come to find if that were to happen, that would EASILY make Shirley the oldest woman to undress for "Playboy". TERRY MOORE posed in 1984 at the age of 55. (She starred in the original "Mighty Joe Young" back in 1949.) &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334962559639531922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 306px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmYLqFSsZI/AAAAAAAAA-A/lu-oy_XkFGQ/s400/oldest_to_pose_playboy-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;NANCY SINATRA was 54 when she posed nude in 1995. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334962478094567906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmYG6TdSeI/AAAAAAAAA94/WXpcKSQ16do/s400/oldest_to_pose_playboy-3.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Both JOAN COLLINS ...&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334962376194771762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmYA-spyzI/AAAAAAAAA9w/uQAJSRjDUzw/s400/oldest_to_pose_playboy-7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;and FARRAH FAWCETT both stripped for "Playboy" at the age of 50. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334962249062922850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmX5lGDumI/AAAAAAAAA9o/BU4LxEvoz1M/s400/oldest_to_pose_playboy-8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Says Shirley's husband, quote, "She's still drop-dead gorgeous, and at the age of 75, a natural beauty. I'm her husband, and I think it would be sensational. Mature women are relevant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I say 'Go for it', Shirley! This world needs more GMILFS. Especially if you're anywhere near as hot as 63 year old HELEN MIRREN.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334962670453797442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmYSG5eMkI/AAAAAAAAA-I/NMcbKH2QTwU/s400/mirren_bikini.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334964396534075298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 377px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmZ2lDFD6I/AAAAAAAAA-Q/q09lrDu6R5M/s400/mirren_bikini2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-5377596813762370805?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5377596813762370805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5377596813762370805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/05/75-year-old-mrs.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SgmVJNfYxPI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/tp3oU3xMs9Q/s72-c/shirley.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-470873969783471080</id><published>2009-04-27T10:25:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T10:35:06.793-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;MEN WHO LOVE CATS ARE FREAKY:&lt;/strong&gt; There's something a little freaky about dudes who honestly, truly, love cats. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329408309934546914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SfXcnxip3-I/AAAAAAAAA84/glM4KhGW1qU/s400/evil2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Guys can tolerate cats. Guys can understand the value of cats -- namely as a pest control tool.But sitting on the sofa, watching a football game, drinking a beer and lovingly stroking Mr. Frisky? That's messed up. That I don't get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.menandcats.com/"&gt;Here's the blog&lt;/a&gt; I stumbled on the other day that got me thinking about that. It's unsettling. You may have to look away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-470873969783471080?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/470873969783471080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/470873969783471080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/04/men-who-love-cats-are-freaky-theres.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SfXcnxip3-I/AAAAAAAAA84/glM4KhGW1qU/s72-c/evil2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-6520988608670967706</id><published>2009-04-12T18:32:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T19:26:19.606-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;CAN'T LIVE WITH US /YOU'D KILL EACH OTHER WITHOUT US:&lt;/strong&gt; Maybe you've heard me comment on the air a time or two how I think women are women's worst enemy. How y'all seem to hold each other back and keep each other down. While surfing the other day, I came across even more evidence.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323980190089305922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 348px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SeKTxnV9X0I/AAAAAAAAA74/pl8gz24FIqc/s400/mm_chickfight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;It was an article written by a woman who'd started an all-female TV production company back in 2005. According to the lady, she'd decided to create an all-female company because she figured women would be more productive and happier without men around. But within a matter of days her dream turned into a catty nightmare. Basically, she writes, it's because women get competitive and that causes them to treat one another terribly. Ain't that the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take eating, for example. If a woman has a 'healthy appetite', other women will make snide comments about how she's going to get fat. But if she watches what she eats, then here come the catty remarks about how she's anorexic. Fashion? She's either tacky or dresses like a slut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I love it when two women get into an argument because it always ends the same way ... with both women complaining about the other woman to their friends for the next several hours. And don't even get me started on relationships. Women have no loyalty to other women when it comes to men. A woman will totally shoplift another woman's man just to prove she CAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why y'all gotta be like that to each other ... but, as a casual observer, I sure do enjoy the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-6520988608670967706?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6520988608670967706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6520988608670967706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/04/cant-live-with-us-youd-kill-each-other.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SeKTxnV9X0I/AAAAAAAAA74/pl8gz24FIqc/s72-c/mm_chickfight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-5325736128878222812</id><published>2009-04-05T10:08:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T03:37:12.002-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;WANT ADS:&lt;/strong&gt; I read where the CIA is advertising on radio, TV, and the internet looking for more spies. Apparantly, the war on terror has stretched them thin and they admit they don't have sufficient 'human assets' to protect our country by gathing intelligence around the world.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321321151914215826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 122px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SdkhZOOeiZI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/bn4-eq6J4Tw/s200/spy_vs_spy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I think I'd make a great spy. I have experience, too. Yeah, sure, she called it "stalking" ... but still. &lt;em&gt;(You know I'm kidding, right?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-5325736128878222812?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5325736128878222812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/5325736128878222812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/04/want-ads-i-read-where-cia-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SdkhZOOeiZI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/bn4-eq6J4Tw/s72-c/spy_vs_spy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-6428511656669489988</id><published>2009-04-01T09:40:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T10:36:17.477-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SdON332m2FI/AAAAAAAAA6g/X_8n2ptYLoY/s1600-h/Fat-Women.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319751575879997522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SdON332m2FI/AAAAAAAAA6g/X_8n2ptYLoY/s400/Fat-Women.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;WHY IS IT THAT...&lt;/strong&gt; people with fabulous bodies more often than not are shy about them - but old, wrinkly people walk on the beach or hotel pool in a tiny bikini or Speedo as if it's nothing?And don’t even get me started on leggings and the - how shoud I say this - "more to love" crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leggings are another item meant to be worn by skinny people, but the 'pleasantly plump' LOVE them. Just because leggings stretch to fit doesn't mean you should cram yourself into them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And "skinny jeans"... well, they're called skinny jeans for a reason -- and it's NOT because they'll make you LOOK skinny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm sayin' is ya gotta dress for your size. I'm a fat guy, I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-6428511656669489988?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6428511656669489988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6428511656669489988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-is-it-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SdON332m2FI/AAAAAAAAA6g/X_8n2ptYLoY/s72-c/Fat-Women.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-3903687438517893649</id><published>2009-03-04T03:31:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T16:04:00.204-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;RULES FOR GUYS TO LIVE BY:&lt;/strong&gt; Dealing with women is brutal. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309371016270133874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 337px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sa6szx2JOnI/AAAAAAAAA3w/Qdv_yRzCOy0/s400/kscn554l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The sands are constantly shifting and we men are always at risk of getting shut out in the bedroom for doing or saying the wrong thing. So with that in mind, your Uncle Mikey has some guidelines for men to live with women ... somewhat successfully:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't lie. (Or, at least, don't get caught in a lie!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The correct answer to, "Do I look fat?" is never, ever, "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The same is true for, "Is she prettier than me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*None of your exes were ever nicer, prettier, or better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Answering, "Who was that on the phone?" with, "Nobody," is never going to end that conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You're wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You're sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Her haircut is never bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's taken me 3 marriages to learn these, my gift to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-3903687438517893649?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/3903687438517893649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/3903687438517893649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/03/rules-for-guys-to-live-by-dealing-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/Sa6szx2JOnI/AAAAAAAAA3w/Qdv_yRzCOy0/s72-c/kscn554l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-9153254042762081061</id><published>2009-02-20T04:12:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T17:46:20.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;SEXY OR SAD?&lt;/strong&gt; ... Have you seen these pictures of Pam Anderson at Fashion Week in New York? &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304836814024840082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SZ6Q-eNdk5I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/MYS1xIXswJQ/s400/andersonpam.jpg" border="0" /&gt; When you're in your 20s working a runway in a shiny gold bathing suit and platforms ... that's sexy. When you're Pam's age and still doing it ... &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304837763383123010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SZ6R1u2HXEI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/kxqy3CtUyEk/s400/andersonpam2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;it's, well, a little sad. Dontchathink? I mean, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't say no. And any guy who says he would is either lying or he's Brad Pitt. She doesn't look "bad". I'm just sayin' . . . maybe it's time to give up showing that much skin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-9153254042762081061?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/9153254042762081061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/9153254042762081061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/02/sexy-or-sad.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SZ6Q-eNdk5I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/MYS1xIXswJQ/s72-c/andersonpam.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-8773069415163322262</id><published>2009-02-04T09:28:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T09:33:03.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;STOLEN KODAK MOMENTS ...&lt;/strong&gt; You ever notice how dogs always seem to steal the spotlight in whichever picture they happen to be in? Case in point ... &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298980943231372770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SYnDF7jezeI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/aR7gDwfqdpg/s400/blog_kodak2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298980876578347202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 304px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SYnDCDQKWMI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/CpT7SaafrlE/s400/blog_kodak1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298981007022766306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 338px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SYnDJpMiOOI/AAAAAAAAA2g/9g8DZrKHm2s/s400/blog_kodak3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-8773069415163322262?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/8773069415163322262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/8773069415163322262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/02/stolen-kodak-moments.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SYnDF7jezeI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/aR7gDwfqdpg/s72-c/blog_kodak2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-7160446773437109818</id><published>2009-01-20T04:21:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T18:30:38.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SXW3yCiC2II/AAAAAAAAA0w/PF6hWGZvdVE/s1600-h/blog_hate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293339007344892034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 151px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 109px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SXW3yCiC2II/AAAAAAAAA0w/PF6hWGZvdVE/s200/blog_hate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;DON'T YOU HATE IT WHEN...&lt;/strong&gt; Don't you hate those people who take TWO parking spaces for their precious car? Ironic because they do this so their prized possession doesn't get dinged from other cars, but in reality it's like they're asking for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about you, but I get SO ANNOYED by these people that the thought of doing bad things to their precious-better-than-mine-car crosses my mind. But I'm a civilized person so I resist the temptation. Others might not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So before you think about being a gluttonous parker keep this in mind: Taking two parking spots is just an invitation for bitter people to do something horrible to your car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-7160446773437109818?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7160446773437109818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/7160446773437109818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-you-hate-those-people-who-take-two.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SXW3yCiC2II/AAAAAAAAA0w/PF6hWGZvdVE/s72-c/blog_hate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-2626196350628114780</id><published>2009-01-14T10:30:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T10:47:31.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;ODDLY SEXY &amp;amp; OPRAH ... &lt;/strong&gt;I find the chick who plays Flo on the Geico commercials oddly attractive. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291206719126011490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SW4keh6qfmI/AAAAAAAAAzw/5cvyT2xqbuQ/s400/Flo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I'm pretty sure under all that makeup is someone I wouldn't wanna roll over and see in the morning, but there's just something about her. Am I alone on this? I am? Well, then I'm sorry you had to read this. I thought we were friends. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What about Oprah? Am I the only one finding it hard to feel sorry for her 40 pound weight gain in a year?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291206999451839138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SW4ku2NjKqI/AAAAAAAAAz4/O0Fnsvu8PbE/s320/oprahcover.jpg" border="0" /&gt; I mean, come on, she's a bazillionaire who has every resource available to her. Two personal chefs, personal trainers, a tricked out home gym, no kids, and months of time off. Sorry, this fat boy just can't sympathize. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-2626196350628114780?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/2626196350628114780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/2626196350628114780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/01/oddly-sexy-oprah-i-find-chick-who-plays.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SW4keh6qfmI/AAAAAAAAAzw/5cvyT2xqbuQ/s72-c/Flo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-6680958236999460985</id><published>2009-01-05T04:59:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T08:22:22.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;SHOWERING TOGETHER ...&lt;/strong&gt; We read this personality profile on the air the other morning which is supposed to hip you to what kind of boyfriend and lover he'll be based on his washing M.O. For example, if he's a wash-and-go kind of guy he's practical and reliable but not all that inventive so if it's adventure in your romantic life you want, you'll have to be the one to initiate it. (&lt;a href="http://www.mikemartinezmornings2.blogspot.com/"&gt;You can read the whole this here&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it got me to thinking about showering. Showing together in particular.Have you noticed how it's made out to be all sensual and a romantic thing to do together in movies and t.v shows? &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288572408288593634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SWTIldT5RuI/AAAAAAAAAzY/9LtnxZxdtRQ/s400/manwoman_shower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;But in real life it's far from either. There's only one stream of water shooting out, which means only one of you can be saturated by it at a time. Where does that leave the other person? In the corner, cold and waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And doing the giggity giggity goo in the shower isn't much better. In fact, it's an accident waiting to happen! And for the record, other places that are made to be sensual and romantic to make the beast with two back in, but in my opinion (experience!) are a swimming pool, the beach (sand, sand -- and MORE sand in all kinds of cracks!), and in a car. I've never done the airplane bathroom thing but I've been in one and I'm willing to bet that's not a good place either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-6680958236999460985?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6680958236999460985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6680958236999460985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2009/01/showering-together.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SWTIldT5RuI/AAAAAAAAAzY/9LtnxZxdtRQ/s72-c/manwoman_shower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-6157466768591421678</id><published>2008-11-29T07:36:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T07:46:42.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I WAS CHANNEL SURFING THE OTHER DAY... and stumbled on the story of the so-called 'pregnant man'. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274090764300696210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/STFVm1dPupI/AAAAAAAAAu0/Wjwwx7YOSd4/s200/pregnant-man.jpg" border="0" /&gt;From what I understand, "he" kept his girl parts so "he" could have a baby someday. If that's the case, isn't "he" just a bearded lady with a bun in the oven? And if that's the case, what's the big deal? You should see some of my female relatives!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-6157466768591421678?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6157466768591421678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6157466768591421678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-was-channel-surfing-other-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/STFVm1dPupI/AAAAAAAAAu0/Wjwwx7YOSd4/s72-c/pregnant-man.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-1561530952744367120</id><published>2008-11-22T19:14:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T19:22:32.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SSi-KX9TdoI/AAAAAAAAAt8/lgOHv1Buxhw/s1600-h/garden_book_cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271672449276278402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 165px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SSi-KX9TdoI/AAAAAAAAAt8/lgOHv1Buxhw/s200/garden_book_cover.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; DON'T YOU HATE IT WHEN... someone asks you to pick a movie and then vetoes each choice until there's one left -- the one they want to see! Or how 'bout the "where do you want to go" question. You'll pick some place and he or she will have some excuse as to why not that place until you get to the place they feel like going to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've concluded when someone asks what YOU'D like to do, that's usually code for -- "I hope we agree on what I want to do."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-1561530952744367120?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1561530952744367120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/1561530952744367120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2008/11/dont-you-hate-it-when.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SSi-KX9TdoI/AAAAAAAAAt8/lgOHv1Buxhw/s72-c/garden_book_cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-412692105711886382.post-6355837408335198788</id><published>2008-11-21T04:34:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T07:35:55.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SSi70ckexFI/AAAAAAAAAt0/TW4DrVQElPw/s1600-h/cosmo_dec08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271669873533961298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SSi70ckexFI/AAAAAAAAAt0/TW4DrVQElPw/s200/cosmo_dec08.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;WHAT'D HE LIKE TO SEE YOU IN... so I was flipping through Cosmo the other day, because in all honesty Jessica Simpson's cleavage on the cover got my attention, when I stumbled upon this little tidbit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cosmo asked guys "How do you like a girl to dress on a first date?" The #1 answer was"tight jeans and a hot top". 64% of the fellas want to see you in that. And by "hot top" I'm pretty sure they mean slutty top. Like what Jess is wearing on the cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The runner-up outfit guys would like to see a girl in for a first date? 36% said the little black dress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/412692105711886382-6355837408335198788?l=mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6355837408335198788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/412692105711886382/posts/default/6355837408335198788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mikemartinezmornings6.blogspot.com/2008/11/whatd-he-like-to-see-you-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Mike Martinez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16753270406323670575</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/_1KWzui6rG6Q/SSi70ckexFI/AAAAAAAAAt0/TW4DrVQElPw/s72-c/cosmo_dec08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
