<?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-18549882</id><updated>2012-01-23T23:50:18.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'>STUFF I WROTE TODAY</title><subtitle type='html'>This is some funny stuff I wrote today...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-6845560402988006340</id><published>2009-05-22T17:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T17:30:46.831-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Costumes Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/ShcT0MLHZfI/AAAAAAAAAB4/UylYI129iJU/s1600-h/Halloween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338757670612985330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/ShcT0MLHZfI/AAAAAAAAAB4/UylYI129iJU/s320/Halloween.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I like to look back at my old halloween photos and play the game called "What the hell did my parents dress me up as?"  In this photo, as you can tell, everyone has a clearly defined character. Ollie to my right, is dressed as a nerd, complete with nerd apparel, like glasses, suspenders, and gray pants.  His brother Roger, and their cousin Ann, both decided to be Vampires, very original, I might add.  My sister Nikki was Minnie Mouse wearing a blue winter jacket.  Then there's me.  I seem to be wearing a bandana, leather pants and jacket, with a big scraggly beard.  I thought I was a pirate, but after asking my parents, it turns out I was dressed up as "Anything they could find in the closet out of a bag labeled 'clothes for Goodwill'."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-6845560402988006340?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/6845560402988006340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=6845560402988006340' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/6845560402988006340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/6845560402988006340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2009/05/halloween-costumes-part-2.html' title='Halloween Costumes Part 2'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/ShcT0MLHZfI/AAAAAAAAAB4/UylYI129iJU/s72-c/Halloween.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-81033735492135212</id><published>2009-04-30T18:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T18:26:41.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultimate Fighter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/Sfog_-mBDaI/AAAAAAAAABw/KGE3iYlGCKs/s1600-h/Headlock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330609392452701602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 212px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/Sfog_-mBDaI/AAAAAAAAABw/KGE3iYlGCKs/s320/Headlock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was 12 I used to be a Mixed Martial artist. I won 145 bouts that year. My main strategy was to confuse my opponents senses by wearing a shirt made up of 8 different shirts, and while they wondered to themselves why I would ever buy and wear such a shirt, that's the exact moment I would slap on a choke hold until they passed out, oh and my other strategy was to only fight kids 7 and under. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-81033735492135212?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/81033735492135212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=81033735492135212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/81033735492135212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/81033735492135212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2009/04/ultimate-fighter.html' title='Ultimate Fighter'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/Sfog_-mBDaI/AAAAAAAAABw/KGE3iYlGCKs/s72-c/Headlock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-7878958097649943837</id><published>2009-04-29T16:59:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T17:45:37.361-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Overeating</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/SfjBfYxkOtI/AAAAAAAAABo/crVU-iSAuRM/s1600-h/Abundance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330222903963433682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/SfjBfYxkOtI/AAAAAAAAABo/crVU-iSAuRM/s320/Abundance.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I always thought my parents fed me too much when I was a kid, and now I finally have proof. This was a typical meal for me. 18 apples, half a watermelon, noodles, a birthday cake, turkey, a ketchup bottle, corn, fish, 2 salads and several delicious sauces. If it wasn't for the horizontal stripes on my shirt, you would think to yourself, "Holy shit, this kid is grotesquely obese."&lt;br /&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/18549882-7878958097649943837?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/7878958097649943837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=7878958097649943837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/7878958097649943837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/7878958097649943837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2009/04/overeating.html' title='Overeating'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/SfjBfYxkOtI/AAAAAAAAABo/crVU-iSAuRM/s72-c/Abundance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-7308065278883868719</id><published>2008-02-22T18:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T19:02:59.109-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My sister loves the sauce</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/R79hWltDqOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/fqJSihLwQQ0/s1600-h/DRINK.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169957937950730466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/R79hWltDqOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/fqJSihLwQQ0/s320/DRINK.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My little sister is an alcoholic.  We tried to stop her, but she was already sipping Hennessey at the age of 2.  She was so drunk at this point in the picture, that she couldn't even hold her own glass.  Shame, shame.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-7308065278883868719?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/7308065278883868719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=7308065278883868719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/7308065278883868719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/7308065278883868719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-sister-loves-sauce.html' title='My sister loves the sauce'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/R79hWltDqOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/fqJSihLwQQ0/s72-c/DRINK.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-2725084055624747610</id><published>2007-05-29T21:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T21:42:25.349-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Huge Collared Shirt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/RlzQQMLcIVI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iyGv-49pv1Y/s1600-h/Copy+of+Neilpurpleshirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070156257078026578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 323px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" height="179" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/RlzQQMLcIVI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iyGv-49pv1Y/s320/Copy+of+Neilpurpleshirt.jpg" width="241" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought this shirt because the salesperson convinced me that the oversized collar was "in style". After wearing it out a few times, I can tell you that it most certainly is not, in fact, it's quite the opposite, and if I have to hear someone callin' out to me, "Hey you! The guy with the ridiculously big collar!" one more time, I'm going to go crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-2725084055624747610?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/2725084055624747610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=2725084055624747610' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/2725084055624747610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/2725084055624747610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-huge-collared-purple-shirt.html' title='My Huge Collared Shirt'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_YMSslYLGxLM/RlzQQMLcIVI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iyGv-49pv1Y/s72-c/Copy+of+Neilpurpleshirt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-116987285168759302</id><published>2007-01-26T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T23:40:51.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tilt-a-Whirl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2255/1818/1600/406978/DSC01011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px" height="189" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2255/1818/320/207660/DSC01011.jpg" width="221" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rode the tilt-a-whirl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2255/1818/1600/615909/DSC01012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 314px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" height="126" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2255/1818/320/405846/DSC01012.jpg" width="219" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I threw up in the flowerbush behind me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-116987285168759302?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/116987285168759302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=116987285168759302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116987285168759302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116987285168759302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2007/01/tilt-whirl.html' title='Tilt-a-Whirl'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-116274491290571091</id><published>2006-11-05T11:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T11:42:05.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/matchingkids.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 168px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" height="248" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/matchingkids.0.jpg" width="168" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents enjoyed dressing my sister and I in matching outfits. I always questioned their reasoning behind it until my mom explained to me that we were, in fact, twins and I was born exactly 3 minutes and 1095 days after my sister.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-116274491290571091?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/116274491290571091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=116274491290571091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116274491290571091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116274491290571091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/11/twins.html' title='Twins'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-116222791109573590</id><published>2006-10-30T11:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T12:06:10.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Food and the Coolness Factor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/DSC00750.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px" height="178" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DSC00750.0.jpg" width="235" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is conclusive evidence that no man can ever look cool eating ice cream. You can, however, look semi-decent eating a boiled peanut.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/DSC00771.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px" height="184" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DSC00771.jpg" width="270" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-116222791109573590?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/116222791109573590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=116222791109573590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116222791109573590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116222791109573590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/10/food-and-coolness-factor.html' title='Food and the Coolness Factor'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-116170062008662045</id><published>2006-10-24T10:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T10:37:00.126-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/NeilLacoste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/NeilLacoste.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture days at school are so much fun, except when your mom cuts your hair the day before and decides to give you a bowl-cut in the front and a mullet in the back.  Combine that with a fake Lacoste sweater and a clip-on tie, and you've got a school picture day photo that can be ridiculed for the rest of your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-116170062008662045?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/116170062008662045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=116170062008662045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116170062008662045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116170062008662045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/10/picture-day.html' title='Picture Day!'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-116128720835735633</id><published>2006-10-19T15:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T15:46:48.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shirt-tie combo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/DSC00709.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DSC00709.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my reaction after opening up a Christmas present I received from my Mom on Christmas day.  As you can see she bought me one of those "Shirt-tie combos", you know, those no name cheap business shirts that come packaged with a bad tie, all for $9.99 kind of deals.  What you can't see is what I'm thinking at this exact moment and that is, "I will never wear this shirt-tie combo."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-116128720835735633?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/116128720835735633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=116128720835735633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116128720835735633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/116128720835735633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/10/shirt-tie-combo.html' title='Shirt-tie combo'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-115516127807891874</id><published>2006-08-09T17:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T12:08:28.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Severe Hairloss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Male%20Pattern%20Baldness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="177" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/200/Male%20Pattern%20Baldness.jpg" width="137" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To combat male pattern baldness, my dad has resorted to trying on a toupee. After careful deliberation, and much prodding from me, he decided to undergo a procedure instead using his own real hair to cover up his bald spots. I think we can all agree that using his own back hair was the right choice. &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="122" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/200/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg" width="151" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Jeffbirthdaydad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-115516127807891874?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/115516127807891874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=115516127807891874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/115516127807891874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/115516127807891874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/08/severe-hairloss.html' title='Severe Hairloss'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-115439579074913640</id><published>2006-07-31T21:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T12:09:52.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Like sister, like mother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/DSC00603.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="188" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DSC00603.jpg" width="190" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people think my sister and my mom look alike in this picture. After careful examination, I think it's because they're both wearing red shirts.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/DSC00604.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 179px" height="152" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DSC00604.jpg" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-115439579074913640?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/115439579074913640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=115439579074913640' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/115439579074913640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/115439579074913640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/07/like-sister-like-mother.html' title='Like sister, like mother'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-114712864186273379</id><published>2006-05-08T18:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T18:53:23.330-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Karaoke is fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/singingkaraoke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/singingkaraoke.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me again singing karaoke at the Bansil family Christmas extravaganza 86'.  I'm amazed I could even breathe, I mean, with my pants being so tight and all.  My cousin Chris is looking at me with this look of amazement on his face, like he's wondering to himself, "How the hell is he able to sing with his pants so tight?" DJ Climax behind me, on the one's and two's, is pretty amazed himself. Follow his gaze, I bet you he's looking at the gushing blood going through my white shirt because my tight pants are slicing through my back skin.  My cousin Chris doesn't know whether to put the guitar down or call an ambulance, and all the while, I'm singing Corey Hart's classic, "I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-114712864186273379?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/114712864186273379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=114712864186273379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114712864186273379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114712864186273379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/05/karaoke-is-fun.html' title='Karaoke is fun!'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-114644375042520900</id><published>2006-04-30T20:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T20:35:50.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So Sad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/SadPiano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/SadPiano.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen a kid so sad?  I remember this day like it was yesterday.  I just lost my job, my wife left me, and to top it all off, my pants and shirt where too short for my legs and arms.  Even the plant beside me looks sad.  Actually the real reason I was so sad was because before taking this picture, my mom let me know that I was adopted.  Then she said, "Say Cheese!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-114644375042520900?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/114644375042520900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=114644375042520900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114644375042520900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114644375042520900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/04/so-sad.html' title='So Sad'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-114583375123214140</id><published>2006-04-23T18:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T19:09:11.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cowparents</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/cowparents.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/cowparents.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My parents have a secret life.  They like to act normal by day, but by night, as evidenced by this photo, they are, in fact, cowboys.  Don't ever let anyone tell you that the movie "Brokeback Mountain" isn't a bad influence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-114583375123214140?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/114583375123214140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=114583375123214140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114583375123214140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114583375123214140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/04/cowparents.html' title='Cowparents'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-114097765985414109</id><published>2006-02-26T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-26T13:15:44.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When I was thin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/ThinNeil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/ThinNeil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a picture of me when I used to be thin. I've really let myself go since. I think the ice cream cake I'm eating here is what started my downward spiral into obesity, I mean I'm well over 5 feet 10 now, and I weigh over 180 lbs...ridiculous!!! Anyways...Kids eat ice cream funny. If you look at any child eating ice cream, how come, they can never keep the ice cream off their face? And not only that, they never seem to wipe it off. They're content in having cold, sticky ice cream covering their little faces. Kids are stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-114097765985414109?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/114097765985414109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=114097765985414109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114097765985414109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114097765985414109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/02/when-i-was-thin.html' title='When I was thin'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-114066158492359854</id><published>2006-02-22T21:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T21:26:24.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tipsy again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/DrunkNeil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile since I last posted something.  I apologize for that.  I've been busy working on a show I created and am producing called "The Most RACES Show on Earth!" Check it out at &lt;a href="http://www.themostracesshowonearth.com"&gt;www.themostracesshowonearth.com&lt;/a&gt;.  Toronto's funniest, edgiest multicultural comedians will be performing for one night only!  If you're in Toronto, you have to check it out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.  Here I am, drunk again.  I think I had a little too much to drink, as you can see by the way I'm walking.  I remember, I just had a Big Mac with fries and a small Johnnie Walker on the rocks.  I was so drunk, I forgot how funny I looked in yellow short-shorts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-114066158492359854?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/114066158492359854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=114066158492359854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114066158492359854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/114066158492359854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/02/tipsy-again.html' title='Tipsy again'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113968785466153086</id><published>2006-02-11T14:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T14:57:34.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/First%20Communion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/First%20Communion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture was taken on Halloween 85'.  As you can see my sister went as Mother Theresa, and I was going as an overweight kid in a leisure suit.  I could be wrong though, this could actually just be my sisters first communion.  My mind is foggy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113968785466153086?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113968785466153086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113968785466153086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113968785466153086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113968785466153086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/02/halloween-2.html' title='Halloween #2'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113936031668431517</id><published>2006-02-07T19:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T19:58:36.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Staring Contest</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Indian%20Neil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Indian%20Neil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture was taken during the classic "staring contest" battle of 83'.  It pitted my cousin Chris, the challenger, against me, the champion.  I had won the previous two years, and Chris camed prepared to stare.  It was a hard fought battle, as you can see by the expression on my cousin's face, but after I put on the Indian feathers, it was all over for him.  After 8 tenuous hours, he finally cracked, then ran away crying in defeat.  That day went down in Bansil history as the time "Dances with brown vest" beat "Crying Asian boy in Blue sweater".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113936031668431517?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113936031668431517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113936031668431517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113936031668431517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113936031668431517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/02/staring-contest.html' title='Staring Contest'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113927560102847153</id><published>2006-02-06T20:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T20:26:41.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking Sad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Sadlooking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Sadlooking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at the reflection of my head on the glass door, it's huge!  Don't let the front of my head fool you, I've got a head the size of a mack truck.  I look so sad.  You would feel sad too if you just found out that your head was too big for your body.  Just before the picture was taken my mom was like, "Smile!  oh c'mon, your head isn't &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; big, and anyways, you'll grow into it." *Camera Flash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113927560102847153?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113927560102847153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113927560102847153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113927560102847153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113927560102847153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/02/looking-sad.html' title='Looking Sad'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113875938465256545</id><published>2006-01-31T20:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T21:03:04.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Filipino Association Fun Run</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Funrun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Funrun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture was taken at the annual picnic held in what looks to be Manila, but in fact is actually a park in Canada.  I haven't seen so many Filipino people since there was a sale on rice.  That's me in last place in the "carrying a stick while running" contest.  Look how far back I am.  That other kid is moving so fast he's blurred, look at me, I'm so in-focus.  Look at the guy to my right.  Could he be more of a geek?  He's the kind of guy, who, when you just look at him, you just know he knows math.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113875938465256545?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113875938465256545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113875938465256545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113875938465256545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113875938465256545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/filipino-association-fun-run.html' title='Filipino Association Fun Run'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113846235081488162</id><published>2006-01-28T10:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T10:32:31.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Making a Move on Wilma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Wilma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Wilma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at me making a move on Wilma.  I was so smooth.  Me and that kid in the front had a bet as to who could touch Wilma's thigh first.  Me and Wilma later dated for a few months, but I had to break up with her because she was married.  Some guy named Fred.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113846235081488162?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113846235081488162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113846235081488162' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113846235081488162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113846235081488162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/making-move-on-wilma.html' title='Making a Move on Wilma'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113833453436100698</id><published>2006-01-26T22:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T09:19:07.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beavers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/beavers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/beavers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true. I was a "Beaver". You see that blue triangle on my pocket?  In Beaver code, that signified that I killed somebody. It's like those tear tattoos you find on rappers. You see the boy at the end?  He doesn't have a blue triangle, but he does have a finger in his nose. He claimed he was just scratching the rim of his nostril, but we all knew the truth. I'm so fat, my little beavers vest looks like a halter top.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113833453436100698?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113833453436100698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113833453436100698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113833453436100698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113833453436100698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/beavers.html' title='Beavers'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113806037722674923</id><published>2006-01-23T18:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T18:52:57.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blowing out the Candles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Blowing%20the%20Candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Blowing%20the%20Candles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an action shot of me blowing out the candles on my fourth birthday.  I remember that day like it was yesterday.  I was so proud of myself for being able to blow out all the candles by myself, that is, until I saw this picture.  Turns out those bastard kids beside me helped me out.  Don't try to deny it Christina Godbonton and Oliver Chandhok!  The allure of blowing out another kids candles was just too irresitable for both of you.  You should be ashamed of yourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113806037722674923?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113806037722674923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113806037722674923' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113806037722674923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113806037722674923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/blowing-out-candles.html' title='Blowing out the Candles'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113780367546675264</id><published>2006-01-20T19:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T19:35:21.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Singing in the Choir</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Singing%20Choir.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Singing%20Choir.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess which one is me? It really isn't that hard. It's not like a "Where's Waldo?" book. Ray Charles could point me out, with what I'm wearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher asked us all to wear something white for the big concert. I guess my mom took that to mean the total opposite, and to also "pop my collar". I can't help but think, "Couldn't I have done something? Why didn't I just look in the mirror before going out?" Even the one girl in the front noticed. She's turning to her friend and telling her, in the middle of the song no less, and I quote, "Neil's clothes are making me sing bad!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113780367546675264?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113780367546675264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113780367546675264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113780367546675264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113780367546675264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/singing-in-choir.html' title='Singing in the Choir'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113763554739229661</id><published>2006-01-18T20:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T20:54:24.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>T-Ball</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Tball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Tball.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my T-Ball photo taken just before I cut my mullet off. I swear, right after I took this picture I went to the barber. I was a pretty big t-baller so the coaches gave me the biggest shirt they had, which went quite well with the tightest pants I had. I don't look like a baseball player at all.  I look more like a ninja in training. In fact, look what I did to the tree behind me, sliced the branch right off with my bat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113763554739229661?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113763554739229661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113763554739229661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113763554739229661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113763554739229661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/t-ball.html' title='T-Ball'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113746382729820740</id><published>2006-01-16T21:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T21:10:27.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Green Suit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Green%20Suit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Green%20Suit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my 13th birthday.  I wore a green suit.  Man, I loved that green suit.  I remember the only reason I wore it was so I could impress my first crush, Michelle Weeks.  There she is in the pink looking right at me.  I really thought it would work, but little did I know that she didn't like the colour green, or Filipino's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113746382729820740?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113746382729820740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113746382729820740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113746382729820740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113746382729820740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-green-suit.html' title='My Green Suit'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113725230569198289</id><published>2006-01-14T10:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-14T10:25:05.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sister Nikki</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Nikki.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Nikki.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I begin, I just want to give a shout out to Rob &amp; Linda for their kind words...I'll be performing in the states very soon.  I also want to say what's up, to jhaneinsane and Woo, if you have the chance check out this guys website, &lt;a href="http://www.wootoons.com"&gt;www.wootoons.com&lt;/a&gt;, it's great, it's almost as good as my own, &lt;a href="http://www.neilbansil.com"&gt;www.neilbansil.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, this is a picture of my sister Nikki.  If you notice, she's wearing the exact same outfit that she wore six pictures down (scroll down).  In fact, she never really changed.  She wore that outfit 17 days in a row.  A Bansil family record.  Look how skinny she is.  We showed this picture to other family members, they sent us money to sponsor her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113725230569198289?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113725230569198289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113725230569198289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113725230569198289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113725230569198289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-sister-nikki.html' title='My Sister Nikki'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113711548628911756</id><published>2006-01-12T20:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T20:24:46.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Break Dancing Competition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/DancingKing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DancingKing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing like an impromptu break dancing competition to liven up a party.  This picture shows me in mid-robot, just before I did my signature "spin on my head" move.  Look at my Uncle Mike behind me.  You just know he's thinking to himself, "Man, Neil's frickin' good, and he's way better than my daughter standing there on the right with the pink dress..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113711548628911756?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113711548628911756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113711548628911756' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113711548628911756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113711548628911756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/break-dancing-competition.html' title='Break Dancing Competition'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113694177419142752</id><published>2006-01-10T20:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T20:09:34.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drinking by age 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Drinks%20for%20the%20Family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Drinks%20for%20the%20Family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This photo brings back memories.  I can actually  remember thinking to myself, "Oh my God, I'm so hammered." that and, "Why is my dad serving me alcohol?"  My last thought was, one more drink and maybe, just maybe, it would make my aunt's dress look good.  (Sorry Auntie Sonia, I didn't mean that)...(Yes I did).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113694177419142752?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113694177419142752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113694177419142752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113694177419142752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113694177419142752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/drinking-by-age-6.html' title='Drinking by age 6'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113685495294696857</id><published>2006-01-09T19:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T20:02:32.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing with Fire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Playing%20with%20fire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Playing%20with%20fire.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's wrong with this picture?  I agree, that kids "Tennis shirt" sucks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most parents would scold kids for playing with fire, mine took a picture.  Does anyone else see the potential danger in allowing a 2 year old child to play with a burning candle?  I could have lit that kids "Tennis shirt" on fire if I wanted.  Thank God I didn't and instead just dropped it on myself and got 3rd degree burns over 90% of my body.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113685495294696857?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113685495294696857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113685495294696857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113685495294696857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113685495294696857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/playing-with-fire.html' title='Playing with Fire'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113660233469540114</id><published>2006-01-06T21:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T21:52:14.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Annual Bansil Family Meat Eating Contest</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Meat%20eating%20contest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Meat%20eating%20contest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating meat is good...eating meat on a stick...even better!  As you can see here, my cousins and I, were having a friendly competition to see who could eat the most meat, and in so doing, make the meat grease transfer onto our faces.  Judging by my face, I am clearly in the lead.  Sadly, the cousin on the right does not have any meat in her hands, but seems content in watching me eat my meat without the aid of my hands.  Unfortunately, in an attempt to copy my meat eating prowess, the cousin on my left broke his neck.  He never ate meat again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113660233469540114?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113660233469540114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113660233469540114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113660233469540114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113660233469540114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/annual-bansil-family-meat-eating.html' title='The Annual Bansil Family Meat Eating Contest'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113642534294439788</id><published>2006-01-04T20:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T20:42:22.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going to sue my parents...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Leatherpants.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Leatherpants.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was my best friend in elementary school.  His name was Michael.  He was a cool guy, until I found out he was a nazi.  Don't let the smile fool you, deep down inside he wants to burn the books behind him.  Ok, I lied.  Michael wasn't a nazi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would now like to take this opportunity to point out that I am wearing a plaid shirt with a bowtie.  Does anyone else find that alarming?  Or maybe you were more drawn to the fact that I am also wearing leather pants.  Leather pants, a plaid shirt and a bowtie.  I ask you, is this not child abuse?  Can I sue my parents for making me look like this?  One thing that I found unnerving was that big bulge in my pants.  It's so big that light is reflecting off it.  Michael was jealous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113642534294439788?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113642534294439788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113642534294439788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113642534294439788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113642534294439788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/im-going-to-sue-my-parents.html' title='I&apos;m going to sue my parents...'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113623856804411035</id><published>2006-01-02T16:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T17:06:33.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The San Antonio Barrio Fiesta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Forced%20Pose%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Forced%20Pose%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The San Antonio Barrio Fiesta...I remember it well.  It was hot, it was sunny, and it was a time to pose.  My sister and I had a "pose off", as you can see, I was doing the standard hands on the hip pose; one leg slightly ahead of the other, gut at full extension, with a smile trained at the camera.  My sister choose to do the displaced hip pose.  You know what's amazing to me? The fact that my sisters shorts are actually longer than mine. My shorts were so short, if I turned around you could actually see the bottom of my butt cheeks.  Everytime I look back at this photo I think to myself, this might be borderline child porn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113623856804411035?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113623856804411035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113623856804411035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113623856804411035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113623856804411035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2006/01/san-antonio-barrio-fiesta.html' title='The San Antonio Barrio Fiesta'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113557240375482571</id><published>2005-12-25T23:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T23:46:43.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 1985</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Christmas%2086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Christmas%2086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is a time for giving, sharing, and wearing moon boots in a rattan chair.  I don't know what's more pathetic, the fact that by age seven, I already had a double chin, or could it be that our carpet is made out of astroturf?  I have to admit though, I never cease to amaze myself with my endless array of poses.  This one was obviously done in an effort to show off my "bling", and when I say bling, I mean "blue pants".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113557240375482571?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113557240375482571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113557240375482571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113557240375482571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113557240375482571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-1985.html' title='Christmas 1985'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113543967059964196</id><published>2005-12-24T10:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T10:54:34.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Arm Wrestling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Armwrestling.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Armwrestling.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a picture of me (in the red) and my arch-rival Jason, arm-wrestling at a family picnic.  Our family took arm-wrestling very serious, and I don't doubt that a few dollars were on the line as me and Jason battled it out.  It was so serious that the loser would be beaten with a red bat after each match, or forced to look at the woman on the right for an extended period of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113543967059964196?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113543967059964196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113543967059964196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113543967059964196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113543967059964196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/arm-wrestling.html' title='Arm Wrestling'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113522884774730249</id><published>2005-12-21T23:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T00:20:47.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family trip to Fantasy Island</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Fantasy%20Island.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Fantasy%20Island.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When I was a kid, every year my parents would take me to Fantasy Island in Buffalo, NY.  I think it was called Fantasy Island because we had to fantasize that the rides were good.  That's me holding the gun towards the person in front of me.  Look at my cousin Chris' pained face.  He can't take it anymore.  In fact, at this very moment he was looking back at me and saying, "Neil, please!  If we spin around one more time and I have to see those two women in the pink again, I think I'm going to die!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113522884774730249?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113522884774730249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113522884774730249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113522884774730249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113522884774730249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/family-trip-to-fantasy-island.html' title='Family trip to Fantasy Island'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113513821586852991</id><published>2005-12-20T23:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T23:10:15.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Smurfs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Smurfattack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Smurfattack.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I used to love the smurfs...until Jokey smurf fondled my breast.  Just look at his eyes, they're so full of lust, it's like he's trying to say, "Yeah, I'm touching him, and it feels good."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113513821586852991?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113513821586852991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113513821586852991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113513821586852991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113513821586852991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/smurfs.html' title='The Smurfs'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113504880764439646</id><published>2005-12-19T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T09:55:25.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Forced to play the piano at 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Pianoneil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Pianoneil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Would you believe it if I told you that I really have no idea how to play the piano in this picture? Well, it's true. I mean, you'd think that with the music book open, and my little arms in the standard piano playing position, that I must have had at least 2 or 3 years of classical piano training, but no, I'm sad to say, this picture is staged. In fact, and I'm almost ashamed to say it, I still do not know how to play the piano.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113504880764439646?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113504880764439646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113504880764439646' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113504880764439646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113504880764439646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/forced-to-play-piano-at-3.html' title='Forced to play the piano at 3'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113479826225543519</id><published>2005-12-17T00:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T08:24:03.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bansil Family Talent Show Extravaganza!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Neilsinging.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Neilsinging.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas at the Bansil residence was never truly complete until we had the annual "Bansil Family Talent Show Extravaganza!" It was a cavalcade of act after sad act of barely talented kids doing whatever they could to entertain adults. This is a picture of me singing "I want your sex" by George Michael.  I should have sang "I want a new shirt and pants".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113479826225543519?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113479826225543519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113479826225543519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113479826225543519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113479826225543519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/bansil-family-talent-show-extravaganza.html' title='Bansil Family Talent Show Extravaganza!'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113443933026268552</id><published>2005-12-12T20:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T11:20:09.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Which one is me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Yellow%20Short%20Shorts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Yellow%20Short%20Shorts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you love it when your parents used to dress you the same as your sibling, despite the fact that you weren't even twins, or in my case, a girl? If I had the chance to go back in time, I think I would ask my parents to buy clothes that fit better. Like maybe a large, or a medium, instead of the size you see here, which was "skin tight". There must have been a sale on skin tight clothing that week. My clothes were so tight, I remember losing all feeling in my legs. Maybe it was the girls sandals I was wearing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113443933026268552?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113443933026268552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113443933026268552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113443933026268552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113443933026268552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/which-one-is-me.html' title='Which one is me?'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113401197980624373</id><published>2005-12-07T22:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-07T22:19:41.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Grandmother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/My%20Grandma.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/My%20Grandma.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was growing up my grandmother was the one who watched over me and my sister when my parents were working.  That was a tough job, and we made sure to reward her as much as we could when her birthday came around.  Unfortunately, during those days we didn't have much money so we had to make do with whatever we could get our hands on.  As you can see, my grandmother put on a brave face after being surprised with a gift of pink insulation in the first photo.  My sister and I managed to get her a scarf, in the second picture, and in the third picture someone bought her a baby.  I think she returned that one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113401197980624373?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113401197980624373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113401197980624373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113401197980624373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113401197980624373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/my-grandmother.html' title='My Grandmother'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113391782519104735</id><published>2005-12-06T19:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T13:15:29.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pear Eating Contest</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Pear%20Eating%20Contest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Pear%20Eating%20Contest.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the good ol' pear eating contest. Who doesn't like a good pear eating contest every once and awhile? I know I do. If you couldn't tell, that's me in the centre with the blue daisy dukes. Could my shorts get any higher? If it could they would be a shirt. You know, I laugh everytime I look at this picture, but I laugh even more when I wonder to myself why is that guy on the left not wearing a shirt? I mean, everyone else is clothed. I think it had something to do with his hair providing him with all the warmth he needs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113391782519104735?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113391782519104735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113391782519104735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113391782519104735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113391782519104735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/pear-eating-contest.html' title='Pear Eating Contest'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113383957917194430</id><published>2005-12-05T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T20:11:35.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'>McDonald's Basement</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Neil%20Fat%20in%20McDonalds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Neil%20Fat%20in%20McDonalds.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing like a McDonald's basement photo to bring back memories. The thing I remember the most about this time in my life was that my hair was threatening to grow completely around my head like a helmet. Ronald McDonald was even using my hair as support in the background.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113383957917194430?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113383957917194430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113383957917194430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113383957917194430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113383957917194430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/mcdonalds-basement.html' title='McDonald&apos;s Basement'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113374676856303562</id><published>2005-12-04T20:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T20:50:33.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I do in the shower...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/dermajel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/dermajel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a shower today and washed my face and I noticed this picture on the bottle of my facewash. Look how happy this guy is to be washing his face?  Like, how dirty was his face that simply washing it illicited that kind of response? I have never been that happy washing my face, the most I've felt is maybe some tingling or my skin drying.  The only time I'd react like that while washing my face is if they secretly switched my water with acid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113374676856303562?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113374676856303562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113374676856303562' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113374676856303562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113374676856303562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/things-i-do-in-shower.html' title='Things I do in the shower...'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113362481582295635</id><published>2005-12-03T10:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-03T10:46:55.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ricky Martineil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Neil%20with%20Ricky%20Martin%20Hair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Neil%20with%20Ricky%20Martin%20Hair.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is...What was I thinking?  I call this one, Ricky Martineil.  With hair like this I might as well start a all-puerto-rican band called Menudo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113362481582295635?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113362481582295635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113362481582295635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113362481582295635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113362481582295635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/12/ricky-martineil.html' title='Ricky Martineil'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113332956949450723</id><published>2005-11-30T00:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T00:52:25.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Justin TimberNeil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Neil%20with%20Justin%20Timberlake%20Hair.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Neil%20with%20Justin%20Timberlake%20Hair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went through a faze where I was trying to grow my hair, but I didn't know what to do with it, so in my spare time I took hair from celebrities and transferred it onto my head, to see how it would look like. This one I like to call, "Justin TimberNeil". It's Justin Timberlake's hair when he rocked the tight perm. I don't look like Justin Timberlake at all.  I look more like a gay Roman. More to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113332956949450723?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113332956949450723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113332956949450723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113332956949450723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113332956949450723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/11/justin-timberneil.html' title='Justin TimberNeil'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113323480651310298</id><published>2005-11-28T21:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T22:29:28.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Afraid of Clowns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Scared%20of%20Clowns.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Scared%20of%20Clowns.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am scared of clowns. I don't like them. Never have, never will. I think it all stems from a childhood memory where I was at a parade and a couple of clowns knelt down beside me.  One of them reached out to touch my elbow. As a kid, you see this happening, all you can think is, "What the F***!, this white faced, red lipped, double chinned clown is trying to snatch me!" So, I tried in vain to get away, but I couldn't because my dad kept pushing me towards him.  I remember my dad laughing and pausing to take a photo of this very traumatic moment in my life. Apparently it's really funny to push your kids towards something they're terrified of. The guy with the blue blockers on behind me seems to agree, he thinks this is hilarious. Unfortunately, I still cry at night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113323480651310298?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113323480651310298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113323480651310298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113323480651310298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113323480651310298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/11/afraid-of-clowns.html' title='Afraid of Clowns'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113241535790897340</id><published>2005-11-19T13:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T10:59:47.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Costumes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/halloween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/halloween.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Halloween was a while ago, but, I just had to show this. That's my sister on the left, she's Minnie Mouse. My cousin Chris is in the middle, he's Superman. That's me on the right. I told my mom I wanted to be Spiderman. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought Spiderman's costume was blue and red? So how come I'm wearing a white plastic v-neck tablecloth, with green spiders on it? If only you could see the tears streaming down my little face under that horrible, one-size-fits-all mask. I don't look like Spiderman! I look more like a guy who just has spiders crawling over him, and a bad face rash. If you have a bad costume that you want to share, let me know, and I'll post a top 5 all-time bad costume list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113241535790897340?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113241535790897340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113241535790897340' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113241535790897340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113241535790897340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/11/halloween-costumes.html' title='Halloween Costumes'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113228284921914746</id><published>2005-11-17T21:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T22:03:36.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Posing for Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Neil%27s%20Forced%20Gay%20Pose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/Neil%27s%20Forced%20Gay%20Pose.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember when your parents forced you to pose for pictures? This is the result. Could I be any more gayer? Gayer isn't a word, but really, there isn't a word that can describe this pose. I wonder what was going through my mind as I pulled the flower closer to my body and tilted my head ever so slightly so that the flower could gently caress my soft skin. I was probably thinking, "Could this be any more gayer?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113228284921914746?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113228284921914746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113228284921914746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113228284921914746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113228284921914746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/11/posing-for-pictures.html' title='Posing for Pictures'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113193250338349489</id><published>2005-11-13T20:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T16:40:39.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle A</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Uncle%20A.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/400/Uncle%20A.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my uncle A. He likes to drink, but who doesn't, right? He's not an alcoholic or anything, he just likes to be under the influence 75% of the time. The other 25% of the time, he's driving to the store to get more alcohol. I mean, you have to be responsible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113193250338349489?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113193250338349489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113193250338349489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113193250338349489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113193250338349489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/11/uncle.html' title='Uncle A'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113150660312677991</id><published>2005-11-08T22:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T16:17:45.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/Dad%20and%20Me%20Watching%20TV.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/200/Dad%20and%20Me%20Watching%20TV.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a picture of me and my dad watching TV. I think I was like 6. This was just before my dad beat me. Ok, he didn't, but doesn't he just look like he's going to? As the saying goes..."If looks could kill" He was probably mad because my mom was standing in front of him taking a picture, blocking his view of the tv. I mean wouldn't you be mad too if someone was blocking your view of "The A-team"?  It looks like I'm pretty happy in this picture and it also looks like my hand is disappearing in my dad's sideburn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113150660312677991?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113150660312677991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113150660312677991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113150660312677991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113150660312677991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-dad.html' title='My Dad'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18549882.post-113090110148996108</id><published>2005-11-02T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T16:22:36.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/1600/My%20Mom.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/200/My%20Mom.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, you just want to look at your mother and be like, "Are you on crack? What's wrong with you?" You know what my mom does? My mom will come up with a medical diagnosis for a problem I have that has absolutely nothing to do with the problem. Like, her diagnosis will have no medical backing at all, whatsoever, it's just what she "thinks", or what she "believes" is the problem. For instance, last week I was like, "Mom, my arm hurts." and she was like, "You know why your arm hurts? Because you sleep late! You sleeping at 2am, causes your arms to hurt and da muscles to tighten!" Sleeping late was also the reason why I got headaches, and that one time when the car wouldn't start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18549882-113090110148996108?l=stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/feeds/113090110148996108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18549882&amp;postID=113090110148996108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113090110148996108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18549882/posts/default/113090110148996108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stuffiwrotetoday.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-mom.html' title='My Mom'/><author><name>Neil Bansil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07986087007024560035</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2255/1818/320/DrunkNeil.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
