<?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-3487166719491754694</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:34:40.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I See No Reason To Take Life Seriously, Nobody Gets Out Alive Anyway</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-5264686476700021261</id><published>2010-03-01T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T16:57:00.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry Guys</title><content type='html'>Had some trouble with this blog so I imported everything and made a new blog. The Url is http://thelastof11.blogspot.com/.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-5264686476700021261?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/5264686476700021261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=5264686476700021261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/5264686476700021261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/5264686476700021261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2010/03/sorry-guys.html' title='Sorry Guys'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-1176190564465513228</id><published>2010-03-01T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T15:08:23.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'>?</title><content type='html'>I understand people have been having trouble leavinbg comments on my blog.  I simply  made this post to seee if people could comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-1176190564465513228?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1176190564465513228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1176190564465513228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title='?'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-4614956972939717399</id><published>2010-02-26T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T10:22:08.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another English Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;span lang="EN"&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;As I tore down the black-top road I had many random thoughts going through my mind the smell of the moped exhaust, my neighbors recently cultivated field, and the smell of fresh cut grass. Then the thought of keeping up with my sister on the moped began to tip-toe its way into my thoughts. My selfish mind could not pass up bragging rights for the week, ZING! As the moped neared me. I felt was as fast as a the cars speeding up and down my road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Right as I began to nearer to my driveway I discovered something was going wrong. Then the thin tire of my red and black speckled huffy bike began to quiver. Only as I looked down did I realize what was happening. My tire was slowly devoured by the growing grass on the road side. The pebbled black top slowly grew closer then it struck my chin, CLING! As my bike smacked the road. As I began to lift myself up it felt like I was lifting the world in one struggle for help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;When my sister parked the moped at the end of the driveway and hurried toward me. Only then did I began to realize this was worse than I thought. “Is it bleeding,” I asked with tears in my eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;“No” lied my sister.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I slowly began to look down at my shirt when it seemed a cascade of blood had poured from my chin. The trail of blood was 5-6 inches thick and trailed from the top of my shirt to the bottom. As soon as I entered the house my mom told me to take off my shirt and go to the sink. When they rinsed my chin with water a was overcome with pain It seemed as if a million little fire ants were stinging the tip of my chin. As my dad studied my chin he decided it would need steri-strips. He began to douse my chin with a dark liquid to make the strips adhere. As he did so I felt like someone held a lighter to my flesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;As I look back on this I realize how foolish it was to try and beat my sister for the simple fact of bragging rights. However I understand at eight years not much more matters. If asked whether or not I would do it again my answer would be “yes“. I learned to be more cautious, and I as a young boy that’s just what it took to make me understand the matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-4614956972939717399?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/4614956972939717399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/4614956972939717399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-another-english-report.html' title='Just Another English Report'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-1652308340065388304</id><published>2010-02-22T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T18:31:03.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Got Chickens ?</title><content type='html'>For quite some time now I've been wanting some chickens you know 6-7 just for the heck of it maybe some 4-h. Well my parents watched an oprah episode on chicken farmers and they wanted in so 6-7 turned into 20-25. It really is sad the fact that they're so interested in money the chickens are just their product. The chickens are usually only 7-8 weeks when slaughtered. They pump them up on so much steroids and protein it's horrible. If a chicken were to fall over they wouldn't be able to get up do to their muscles and tendons being so tight.So last week when I had a school delay me and my dad went to Rural King to get some chicks and we walked out with twenty-five. I cam home positioned the near the heat got them some food and water and left to school. My dad made a small holding unit for their first 4-5 weeks. I had a drumset that Iwas no longer interested in and I sold the money will go towards a new coup. It will be 8'x12' very big made of two seperate rooms one for the chickens and the other for their food and products. Of the twenty five chickens we have five Aracaunas, four Rho&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7vaxzN9I/AAAAAAAAADs/dZg4Olm3ty4/s1600-h/IMG_4711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441258460621780946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7vaxzN9I/AAAAAAAAADs/dZg4Olm3ty4/s400/IMG_4711.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;de Island Reds, nine Barred Rocks, and a random asso&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7u_yPYQI/AAAAAAAAADc/9GbrwEd-FYw/s1600-h/IMG_4709.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441258453375869186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7u_yPYQI/AAAAAAAAADc/9GbrwEd-FYw/s400/IMG_4709.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rtment of other chickens. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7uWNu-gI/AAAAAAAAADU/pckct5OYa54/s1600-h/IMG_4705.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441258442216897026" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7uWNu-gI/AAAAAAAAADU/pckct5OYa54/s400/IMG_4705.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7vHtAJ0I/AAAAAAAAADk/nvsMZcZ9vZo/s1600-h/IMG_4711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441258455501383490" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7vHtAJ0I/AAAAAAAAADk/nvsMZcZ9vZo/s400/IMG_4711.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The black chicks with the white chest are the Barred Rocks and will gorw to be speckled black and white.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M750B1VRI/AAAAAAAAAD8/CLurSY3YUnc/s1600-h/IMG_4714.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441258639198606610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M750B1VRI/AAAAAAAAAD8/CLurSY3YUnc/s400/IMG_4714.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; The lighter ones with two reddish stripes are the Rhode Island Reds and they will grow to be (you guessed it) red. The ones with the blonde fuzz and black tint are the Aracaunas. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-1652308340065388304?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/1652308340065388304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=1652308340065388304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1652308340065388304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1652308340065388304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2010/02/got-chickens.html' title='Got Chickens ?'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S4M7vaxzN9I/AAAAAAAAADs/dZg4Olm3ty4/s72-c/IMG_4711.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-1243367671595405555</id><published>2010-02-10T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T18:01:29.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Biggest Igloo I've Ever Made</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqczSxLdI/AAAAAAAAADM/fc9m7gvFSKo/s1600-h/IMG_0009%5B3%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436806218204130770" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqczSxLdI/AAAAAAAAADM/fc9m7gvFSKo/s400/IMG_0009%5B3%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqcGx3NSI/AAAAAAAAADE/gEIKrk7XpeY/s1600-h/IMG_0005%5B2%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436806206254953762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqcGx3NSI/AAAAAAAAADE/gEIKrk7XpeY/s400/IMG_0005%5B2%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can cleary see the snow pile hiding the car.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqbjNtD6I/AAAAAAAAAC8/X1-97IKzSJU/s1600-h/IMG_0005%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 1px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 3px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436806196708052898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqbjNtD6I/AAAAAAAAAC8/X1-97IKzSJU/s400/IMG_0005%5B1%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqbWl9-pI/AAAAAAAAAC0/J1fXVN1i2UA/s1600-h/IMG_0009%5B2%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 8px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 13px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436806193320163986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqbWl9-pI/AAAAAAAAAC0/J1fXVN1i2UA/s400/IMG_0009%5B2%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NpkFD3e0I/AAAAAAAAACs/GbJy2A8jpD8/s1600-h/IMG_0003%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436805243720923970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NpkFD3e0I/AAAAAAAAACs/GbJy2A8jpD8/s400/IMG_0003%5B1%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3Npj78FIRI/AAAAAAAAACk/2r-2XfIfThY/s1600-h/IMG_0006%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 318px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 403px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436805241272344850" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3Npj78FIRI/AAAAAAAAACk/2r-2XfIfThY/s400/IMG_0006%5B1%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NpjcauMlI/AAAAAAAAACc/HOry-bvsZZk/s1600-h/IMG_0013%5B1%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436805232810930770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NpjcauMlI/AAAAAAAAACc/HOry-bvsZZk/s400/IMG_0013%5B1%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3Npi-mhGRI/AAAAAAAAACU/9UO70ETpGh4/s1600-h/IMG_0011%5B2%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436805224807340306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3Npi-mhGRI/AAAAAAAAACU/9UO70ETpGh4/s400/IMG_0011%5B2%5D" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-1243367671595405555?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/1243367671595405555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=1243367671595405555' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1243367671595405555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1243367671595405555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-can-cleary-see-snow-pile-hiding-car.html' title='Biggest Igloo I&apos;ve Ever Made'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Kh05nJPWjOM/S3NqczSxLdI/AAAAAAAAADM/fc9m7gvFSKo/s72-c/IMG_0009%5B3%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-6824258609066953571</id><published>2010-01-17T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T17:03:42.314-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WOW WOW Wow!!! Watch My Skin</title><content type='html'>So Friday I finally took my cast off, with a saw zaw. I kept asking my dad if we could tear my cast off I probably heard  "No" eighty times. Like that was going to stop me.  I got home from school Friday and told my dad I didn't want it on for the meet. Mad at me he marched out to the garage and got the saw zaw. For those of you who don't now my dad real well it's a little eery having him cut a cast of with an electric saw while he was  mad. So reluctantly i walked over and rested my arm on the counter. It wasn't to bad he touched my skin a couple times. When I brought it to his attention his words were " I'm raising the blade". When he got to the thick part my arm started shake vigorously and he was getting to my wrist were the bone stuck up a little. So he put on a metal blade so it wouldn't shake so bad. We got the cast off and my wrist was more sore than anything it felt like I jammed it really bad. My thumb bone was warped a little bit but it wasn't to bad. I still had a functioning thumb that was all I cared about. I'll post pictures soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-6824258609066953571?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/6824258609066953571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=6824258609066953571' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/6824258609066953571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/6824258609066953571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2010/01/wow-wow-wow-watch-my-skin.html' title='WOW WOW Wow!!! Watch My Skin'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-3599488667553394091</id><published>2009-12-23T13:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T13:52:27.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gift Game</title><content type='html'>Okay, so my family and I play a gift game where we all buy a gift (theirs usually a set price). We  wrap them up and everything and then we put them under the tree.  We draw numbers and starting from 1, then # 1 picks a gift and then 2 and so on. We are allowed to steal gifts if its or tun, it's really simple but much enjoyed by my family. So this year theirs only like 5 people playing, It's a little.  Me and my sister (Amber) were talking on the phone she said we need to play the game over skype.  I decided that next year we would drop the amount ten bucks ( for shipping). Then play the game over skype with the whole family. I want comments with opinions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-3599488667553394091?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/3599488667553394091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=3599488667553394091' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/3599488667553394091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/3599488667553394091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/12/gift-game.html' title='The Gift Game'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-5049284967442935539</id><published>2009-12-19T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T16:54:07.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'>" I think it's broke"</title><content type='html'>Today I had a wrestling match at carroll.  Their were five schools their not including mine.  I had the first JV match and pinned the guy in the first period.  Then everyone else on my team wrestled and everything. My next match was coming  and the coach told I was wrestling l 10 pounds up. Okay, I thought I can do this then I got out their with butter flies in my stomach &gt;I wrestled as hard as I could. We went back and fourth for the first period. Then I started to get mad I did anything I could to tick him off I shuved his head as heard as could. Finally got him out of bounds. We both stood on the line I was as mad as ever the official blew the whistle, and almost without hesiation I shot. I jammed my right thumb really hard and I almost thought it was broke. However I got as far as I was and I had no plans of stopping.  Doing my best to get him down with my left hand I pinned him. I got off the match and it was getting unbearable . I said " Coach I think it's broken". He told me to go see the trainer, he said that it looked broke and that I should proly get X-rays. My dad was pretty reluctant but after a couple hours we got permission to leave and went to Redi-Med.  They X-rayed my hand and found out my thumb was broke clean in half between the second and third joint. It was displaced about a centimeter so the doctor was going to have to numb it and manually push it in place. A he gave me a shot numbed my hand then had the nurse hold my wrist and he tried to jam my thumb back into place. He got my cast on and everthing and I went to get X-rays. The results weren't great but better. The bone was still slightly displaced so he took my cast off and tried again at this point the pain kiler was just starting to wear off. I could tolerate the pain it wasn't to bad while hold me thumb in place he started to put the cast on.  I got it X-rayedd again and it looked almost perfect. So he finished putting my cast on and sent me one my way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-5049284967442935539?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/5049284967442935539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=5049284967442935539' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/5049284967442935539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/5049284967442935539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-think-its-broke.html' title='&quot; I think it&apos;s broke&quot;'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-2678980203843517263</id><published>2009-12-14T19:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T19:47:56.987-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Was I Thinking :-(</title><content type='html'>The truth is I wasn't thinking, at all. I've made a alot mistakes in my short lifetime, but this one tops them all. A kid in my class brought a fire cracker that explodes on impact to school (If you can see where this is going). He said he was going to throw it in the ag shop (practical joke right). Due to my sense for thrill I told him I'd give him a couple bucks for it then I was gonna make it pop. Well I whimped but another person told me they'd do it, I handed him the firecracker. He threw it, it exploded , teacher got mad. Where'd you get that he asked, expecting only a lecture he said, Trent gave it to me. Well he should've expected more. The teacher said we where both getting referiils, Me for bringing it to school, and my friend for popping it. I tryed to be a good friend but I couldn't do it, so I told him who I got it from and the person denied it. He emptied his pockets in proof but the teacher saw particles from the fire cracker he picked them up and examined them. He new thats where the fire cracker came from so my teacher called the principle and we where all three escorted to the office. We were taken into different rooms where we had to fill out paper explaining excactly what happend. They came and talked to us searched us (This is where they found my phone and ipod) then discused our punishment. I was to finish the rest of the day in ISS( In School Suspension) and the all of the next day, and I got a three hour thursday night school for my phone and Ipod. The person who threw it had to serve the rest of the day in ISS and two more days of it. I do not know how much trouble the person who brought it in was in. However I didn't see him the rest of the day I'm assuming he got OSS ( Out of School Suspension), Or case. Case is where a police stands over you and your not allowed to do anything but work , You have to pack your lunch, and your parents must take you to or from school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents most likely would not aprove of me discusing this publicly. However I disagree this opened my eyes alot It showed me that in order to succeed in life you have to not only want to but work to achieve success. I learned that irrational decisions cost alot, for instance My reputation, My parents reputation, and My entire family's reputation. I learned that if dont come to the realization that it's a tuff world I won't succed in life unless I change my perspective on life . I have now know I have to practice, Dicsipline, Self Control, Persistance (as in knowing when to and when not to persist), Making the right desicions, and work to acheive acedemic success. I now understand that all the lecturing and discipline that I have received from my family was only for my benefit. I now know that they weren't trying to change me only to make me understand that in order to benefit in life that change is always neccesary. This whole ordeal hit me hard and I feel that I have learned alot from it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-2678980203843517263?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/2678980203843517263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=2678980203843517263' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/2678980203843517263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/2678980203843517263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-was-i-thinking.html' title='What Was I Thinking :-('/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-7618068955792067347</id><published>2009-11-29T14:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T14:55:55.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Luck!</title><content type='html'>I went this morning and evening with no luck. I woke up about five O'clock and got around and headed into my sisters boyfriends place. We got stationed in a fence row with two feild on each side of us. However we didn't see or hear anything. I went to help my sister at the horse farm she works at then got home about eleven. I ate two bowls of cereal and some roman noodls and took a nap. I woke up about four and rushed around to get ready for hunting I went out and aout twenty minutes later it started to rain. It wasn't to bad until it got really dark when a clowd engulfed the sunlight. I stuck around for a little bit  and saw nothing about twenty minutes later I took off with no luck. I got home and ate leftovers from my thanksgivving dinner and posted on my blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-7618068955792067347?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/7618068955792067347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=7618068955792067347' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/7618068955792067347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/7618068955792067347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-luck.html' title='No Luck!'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-8538145108678244774</id><published>2009-11-28T15:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T15:19:18.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hunting Update</title><content type='html'>I didn't the days I said however I did get to hunt Friday and I plan to hunt Sunday early morning . We didn't see anything when we went but their out there it's just a matter of getting them sunday is the last day of the season so  plan to go hard or go home. I have no high expectations but i do hope to see something atleast. I aim to get up about 5:30 ish, nake a glass of coffee, get ready then head out at about 6:15, go to the edge of the woods wait a couple minutes, then proceed. I hope that around sevendeer may start to stir and maybe one will be unfortunate enough to cross my path. I plan to be prepared with a 20 guage shotgun, Binoculers, about four sweatshirts, heat warmers, gloves, stool, and I will have doe pee for cover up scent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-8538145108678244774?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/8538145108678244774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=8538145108678244774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/8538145108678244774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/8538145108678244774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/11/hunting-update.html' title='Hunting Update'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-1081479943961733170</id><published>2009-11-22T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T12:21:24.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Worlds Collide (I hope I spelled collide right)</title><content type='html'>I will admit I have neglected my blog for quit some time and I apologize to my readers. I'll understand if you dont want to read about me wining about the amazing week I'll have. For the next week I plan for these few but time consuming things. I have a clash of school ,wrestling practice, family ,thanksgiving, hunting (finally) and a meet. All brought together on one week how I plan to fit it all I in I will soon find out . However all I know is my main concern is hunting and family. I plan to go sight my gun in toda, I then aim to hunt randomly throughout the week. But first I have two days of school and lots of wrestling. Finally wednseday I willl get my break from school but wrestling continues.  I have wrestling about for about two hours twice that day for a total of four hours wednseday. Then me and my brother-in-law hope to hunt wednseday night to thursday morning. Then thanksgiving I have very little going on. Only to get hit hard friday when my sister and brother both with their familys celebrate thanksgiving with us. However I have practice a good four hours that day . Saturday I plan to get up at about six and head into school. From here I will board a bus and have about a hour and half drive to my meet. I assume I will wrestle a couple matches only to leave early with parents to go to my great uncle in laws 90th birthday party. We plan to stay till five that night then I will come home and hang out with my family then fall asleep at about eight. During this whole week I will have the pleasure of being worn out and greatly distracted by my sisters family of five.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-1081479943961733170?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/1081479943961733170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=1081479943961733170' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1081479943961733170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1081479943961733170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-worlds-collide-i-hope-i-spelled.html' title='When Worlds Collide (I hope I spelled collide right)'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-538248705293953800</id><published>2009-10-17T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T06:17:57.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mower In The Making</title><content type='html'>Since I have trouble finding stuff to do sometimes I have to make stuff to do.  Which usually ends up to be some wacky invention, like a threewheel scooter, a scooter with a motor, a no longer working bike.  All kinds of weird things, I will come up with them.  So I got bored and decided I wanted a go-cart or something along those lines.  So I went down to my neighbors who has all kinds of junk, it was absolute heaven.  I found a 60's Ford mower this was it, I could see it in the making.  So I talked to my neighbor and he said I could have for nothing in return, I was pumped.  So I brought it home (which wasn't easy), and started to disassemble it and grind off all the rust with a wire brush on my grinder. The next day I got up about 7:30 and finished the job.  Then went to Dollar General and got some black and green spray paint (with my money). So I came home and primed and painted peice by peice coating everything twice. I then put it back together and it was ready to mount an engine onto.  However I didn't excactly have one handy, or any money to get one.  So I went down to my neighbors and found an old 8 horse egnine.  It looked pretty pathetic though I had no high hopes. I spent hours working on it trying to get it to run, yet it seized to even fire.  So know I have an old mower frame with a crappy engine and nothing else.  However I plan to get  it running before winter so  I can plow driveways for some extra cash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-538248705293953800?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/538248705293953800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=538248705293953800' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/538248705293953800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/538248705293953800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/10/mower-in-making.html' title='A Mower In The Making'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-8258164420834486529</id><published>2009-10-08T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T18:23:13.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Far Not So Good</title><content type='html'>My first honors (biology) class ever and I manage to mess it up.  I'm sitting in class stuned by my horrible test grade wondering why.   I'm usually good at my science stuff especialy cells and what not.  I figure oh I can recoil from this it's only one bad grade,  and decide to avoid telling my parents about this one and lie just a little. Even though I know I'm gonna need to step it up im to proud to admit it. So mid-terms come in the mail, Oh boy my Parents had a cow about it. A D+ in a biology honors class didn't fly with my parents.  So explained the situation, but that didn't quite do it, they wanted to know I would get a B or above.  So I assured them that I would fix it and make it all better.  So my next test comes and I was so confident I would do great.  I took the test, flew threw it with great confidence, and turned it in with a smile on my face.  Then about 3 three days later we were getting our test back.  I'm so excited this is gonna fix it I'm telling myself It's gonna shoot that D right up to a C or B.  Then the paper land on my desk, I turn it over so excited. I see the papaer and all my excitment relinquishes I'm greeted with a 52 %, she nailed me with incomplete sentences. I wanna hurl, #1) I'm highly disapointed in myself, #2) My parents are gonna kill me, #3) I'm probably failing the class.  On the bus ride home I wanna just fall asleep and hope my bus driver forgets me (witch in the end does happen).  So I get off the bus and my dad asks how I did, " Umm I got a B-".  Turns out she called him and told him what I got.  I get the lecture and what not, and once again I assure him I'll fix it.  Two or Three weeks pass and we have lot's of homework and stuff so I bring it up to a 74%, I'm pretty proud of myself.  We've got another test coming and all no worries, right I'm doing great. I take the test and I knew it all I thinking B at least.  So I get my results today, I was PISSED!  A 61%, she docked me 10 points outta 56 for supposedly incomplete sentences.  So I bring it home and check it out, I find that my my sentences are complete. They are slightly gramaticly incorrect but complete.  So tomorrow I plan to put her on the spot and ask her why their incomplete. If she has a reason I want an up front answer if she doesn't give me one im gonna see that it's corrected.  If she refuses I'll have my parents make a call or two. However I plan to see that this is taken care of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-8258164420834486529?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/8258164420834486529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=8258164420834486529' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/8258164420834486529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/8258164420834486529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-far-not-so-good.html' title='So Far Not So Good'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-1161986403375801888</id><published>2009-10-06T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T18:44:59.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hunting ?!?!</title><content type='html'>Very recently I have aquired a strong will to hunt.  I have always talked about hunting a little bit but never become so close to doing it.  I have never hunted before and hardly shot a gun.  I am hoping that my persistance will wear on my dad, and my begging will fall through, Allowing me to go squirrel hunting (The Current Season).  However the main concern is hunting coyote .  They aren't currently in season though so i will have to hold off a few more months.  I can only hope that my wishes will come through though and i get to hunt some squirel this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-1161986403375801888?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/1161986403375801888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=1161986403375801888' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1161986403375801888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/1161986403375801888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/10/hunting.html' title='Hunting ?!?!'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3487166719491754694.post-5211167963292909505</id><published>2009-10-06T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T18:46:06.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrestling Season Begins</title><content type='html'>Today I had my first wrestling conditioning practice. I was debating about weather or not to do the sport due to another distraction, Hunting. However wth some persuasion from my mom and a new pair of wrestling shoes (to ensure that I do the sport) I was talked into it. Lucky for me practice was a good time. It was a small crowd of seven or eight due other sports practices going on. We only have conditioning so the people who arent doing sports currently can get in shape, the true practices don't start for another 2-3 weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3487166719491754694-5211167963292909505?l=thelastofeleven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/feeds/5211167963292909505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3487166719491754694&amp;postID=5211167963292909505' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/5211167963292909505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3487166719491754694/posts/default/5211167963292909505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelastofeleven.blogspot.com/2009/10/wrestling-season-begins.html' title='Wrestling Season Begins'/><author><name>Trent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09440607895244788138</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
