<?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-8124721034042250495</id><updated>2012-03-13T13:47:57.599Z</updated><category term='Local News'/><category term='Gadgets'/><category term='Wardrobe'/><category term='On the farm'/><category term='Everyday Stuff'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='Photo Club'/><category term='Music'/><title type='text'>Megan's Diary.</title><subtitle type='html'>I will start by introducing myself. My name is Megan and I'm 18 years old, I live at home with my parents, sister and three dogs. I work part time in the estate gardens where we live and I also attend horticultural college. I think I'm a bit old fashioned as I seem to take pleasure from quieter homely things in life, not that I have much choice as things are pretty quiet around here. Well thank you for looking and hope you will visit me again sometime.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-2736048490300642332</id><published>2012-03-13T08:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-03-13T08:33:45.034Z</updated><title type='text'>A Knight In Shining Armour.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As you will know if you read my last post it was back to work for me after a two week break. It was quite a steady day as they mostly had me transplanting seedlings, I also did some watering in the greenhouses and we had to move some plants around to make room for the seedlings as I potted them on.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I spoke yesterday of my journey to work so I decided that I would take a few pictures for you of what I see at the moment on my way from home to the mess room which is where we all meet up and the foreman hands out our jobs for the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vBAZ3E_MO9w/T18CpTHQweI/AAAAAAAAAQM/LaiBKdn0a0Y/s1600/IMG_4991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vBAZ3E_MO9w/T18CpTHQweI/AAAAAAAAAQM/LaiBKdn0a0Y/s320/IMG_4991.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9JJDhw8-j6w/T18CuRumJfI/AAAAAAAAAQU/TQNl2jcTbi4/s1600/IMG_4992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9JJDhw8-j6w/T18CuRumJfI/AAAAAAAAAQU/TQNl2jcTbi4/s320/IMG_4992.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4LhUV0_VyY8/T18CzCZ6R4I/AAAAAAAAAQc/bQw3cQ7L-Y8/s1600/IMG_4997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4LhUV0_VyY8/T18CzCZ6R4I/AAAAAAAAAQc/bQw3cQ7L-Y8/s320/IMG_4997.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u6FHFMjm42E/T18C2sq0IzI/AAAAAAAAAQk/Dk0gVBQHVn0/s1600/IMG_5016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u6FHFMjm42E/T18C2sq0IzI/AAAAAAAAAQk/Dk0gVBQHVn0/s320/IMG_5016.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I saw Mick last night although not to have any sort of in depth discussion about anything. I was leaning out of my bedroom window with one of the dogs, she likes to look out but she gets a bit excited and I'm worried she may try and jump out if she sees something of special interest so I was holding on to her when Mick came home. He shouted up to me saying, 'Don't do it, life isn't that bad'. He was joking making out we were about to jump to our deaths. I told him if he were a gentleman he would come and stand under the window and catch us. He laughed and said for us to wait until he had his dinner - you just can't find a decent knight in shining armour anywhere these days can you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-2736048490300642332?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/2736048490300642332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/knight-in-shining-armour.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/2736048490300642332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/2736048490300642332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/knight-in-shining-armour.html' title='A Knight In Shining Armour.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vBAZ3E_MO9w/T18CpTHQweI/AAAAAAAAAQM/LaiBKdn0a0Y/s72-c/IMG_4991.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-7935031091814270825</id><published>2012-03-12T08:20:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-03-12T08:20:26.245Z</updated><title type='text'>At this time of day it's a good place to be.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's back to work for me today, I say back to work but in actual fact I never left work - just didn't have to do any. With our house being in the grounds I spend most of my time at work. It seems strange when I'm in the house and I see the other guys going about thier business, at first it feels like I am shirking work, it also makes it hard to relax because I hear something going on and I have to look through the window to check it out. Of course as with most things there is a good side to everything and in this case it's the fact that I can roll out of bed in to my clothes and straight in to work, no horrendous commuting for me just a nice walk through the gardens to the mess room by the potting shed. Another good thing is that I get to live in a nice place. So as usual it's swings and round abouts and at this time of day I would prefer to live here than have to travel from afar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-7935031091814270825?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/7935031091814270825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/at-this-time-of-day-its-good-place-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7935031091814270825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7935031091814270825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/at-this-time-of-day-its-good-place-to.html' title='At this time of day it&apos;s a good place to be.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-5441264760066940330</id><published>2012-03-11T11:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-03-11T11:12:53.941Z</updated><title type='text'>Fetish Fashion.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I can't stay long as we're heading off to church when everyone is ready but I thought I would take this moment to tell you about where we went yesterday. As you will know if you read my last post I went to town with my sister where we met up with Angeline and Katie. After some walking around the shopping centre we headed out in to the town where we came upon this new shop called "Fetish Fashion". It was funny because it drew our interest straight away but we sort of saw it as a sex shop, not that I know what a sex shop looks like, I don't know, maybe it is a sex shop. Anyway we sort of walked past taking in what we could, it actually looked much the same as any shop except the clothes on display looked to be all made of leather. Anyway that was that until we returned after lunch when we took a longer look through the window. This was followed by a daring session at the end of which it was Katie who took the lead - bless her. Once inside we forgot all about our inhibitions, there was lots of weird stuff, things I had never seen before and we had a great time trying to figure out what they were for and then got a bit embarrassed when we found out! It was the clothes that took my eye the most, there was some really awesome stuff in there and the people were really nice and let us try on a load of things some of which looked better than others. As they were so good to us I for one felt a little obliged to buy something, I was thinking of getting a pair of fury pink handcuffs for Mick but knowing me I would end up losing the key when I had him fastened to a tree so instead I bought something else that will remain a mystery for now - I wouldn't want to spoil any future surprises now would I! I'm not sure I when I will wear what I bought - where do you wear the stuff from a place like that? Living at home I can't even wear it round the house so I guess in a way I wasted my money although I'm wondering if I could get away with wearing something like that at the photo club. Anyway if you have any suggestions as always please feel free to pass them on. Well that's about it really except to say that we did take a few pics of the things we tried on so I will share some of those with the friends that mail me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-5441264760066940330?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/5441264760066940330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/fetish-fashion.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/5441264760066940330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/5441264760066940330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/fetish-fashion.html' title='Fetish Fashion.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-368776539193537287</id><published>2012-03-10T13:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-03-10T13:29:09.915Z</updated><title type='text'>Girls about town.</title><content type='html'>Today Megan is off to town with my sister so that should be loads of laughs, we will do some shopping, do some eating, do some more shopping and then catch a movie - I wonder if Mick would like to join us!!! Would YOU like to join us? Ha ha - I think maybe we would bore you stupid looking at all the girlie shops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-368776539193537287?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/368776539193537287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/girls-about-town.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/368776539193537287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/368776539193537287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/girls-about-town.html' title='Girls about town.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-92045345899968549</id><published>2012-03-08T21:13:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-03-09T10:22:25.001Z</updated><title type='text'>The Cost Of Penis.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'coming soon', 'coming soon';"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I’ve been having quite an exciting day today. This morning I had to go the shop in the village to pick up two loaves of bread and it was then that the fun started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a fright when I walked out of our garden gate because there at the rubbish bins was our new neighbour and the fright came from not knowing he was there until he spoke. He introduced himself as Mick and then apologised for giving me a fright and then stood there drooling! He put me in mind of my dog 608 who adopts a similar expression when faced with a plate of chips. Usually when guys look at me like I’m a plate of chips I leave them to stew in their own juices, not to be cruel or anything like that but simply because I’m shy and I don’t know if they would want me to ease their pain. Anyway I’d already got the impression from the start that Mick could take having his leg pulled so thinking of 608 as I was, I told him to lick his lips, this is the same thing I say to 608 when he is drooling all over the carpet. Unlike 608 Mick didn’t understand what I meant at first so I told him that he looked like someone had put a plate of his favourite food in front of him and told him not to touch it. &lt;br /&gt;He burst out laughing and said, ‘Sorry luv, my mind was wandering a bit, I was sort of wishing I was 20 years younger’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then chatted a few minutes before I told him I had to go as the shop closes for lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Listen luv, how about I run you over in the car, I need some batteries for a clock and you can show me round at the same time’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I wasn’t sure I wanted to be getting in a car with him but although it was a question it was said and acted upon as though it were something already agreed upon. So I waited for his return with the car keys and his wife who he told me is called Wendy, shouted after him to get a box of matches as well. I don’t know if she knew he was giving me a lift, she certainly didn’t make any effort to come and introduce herself. On the way through the village I pointed a few things of interest out to him, it only takes a few minutes by car so we didn’t have time to say much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The village shop isn’t very big but since the new guy took over it does have quite a selection of things on offer. You wouldn’t go there to do a main shopping, it’s more a place to go when you get short of something or if like us you want your bread fresh. He also stocks some things for the tourists and it was whist looking in this part of the shop that Mick found this bright green ball, which was a similar size to a tennis ball. I don’t know if you’ve seen them but they are made of some really squiggy stuff, it reminds me of jelly when it’s in the packet before it’s been made in trifle or whatever. Anyway this one was covered in spikes like a hedgehog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at a book when suddenly I heard Mick say, ‘Have you seen this’?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked up just in time to see this green thing coming at me which hit me in the shoulder before dropping and wobbling around on the floor. I picked it up, gave it a feel and then lobbed it back at him, he caught it and then got hold of a couple of the spikes and dangled it between his legs and with a big grin on his face invited me to squeeze his ball. It was all a laugh but there is something about him and it was getting me quite aroused. Of course I wasn’t going to let the side down so went and fondled his ball for him and asked if he’s what’s known as a uniball. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the fooling around it was time to get out of there so we went to the counter to pay and it was whilst there that the next thing happened. There was this woman there paying, she is from the village but I don’t know her name. Mr P, who is a Pakistani or Indian or something like that was being nice to her saying it was a nice day and how was she and this woman was completely ignoring him. I thought she was speaking quietly at first but after Mick shut up for a second and we got closer I could tell she was just not speaking to Mr P. I really hate this sort of thing and I was getting quite mad by the time she had paid up. When she turned to leave I gave her the death eye and whilst she was still in ear shot I was very pleasant to Mr P. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are some people in the village who don’t like the idea of him having the shop but it’s ten times better now than when the last lot had it and what they want to remember is that it was touch and go whether the estate did away with it as a shop, they were talking of turning it in to a house because no one could make it pay as a shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a nasty part of the day but it soon brightened up again because just as we were leaving the shop Mick spotted a packet of balloons and decided to buy them for the house warming party he has plans for. Once out of the shop the balloons then prompted him to tell me a story about his mate who has this six foot blow up penis! I can understand why a guy might want a six foot blow up doll but why a six foot blow up penis? Anyway on the way back Mick was working it out based on what his mate paid for his blow up version that penis in general must cost around £3.30 a foot and in an amazing flash of brightness I replied, ‘So that means I could buy yours for about 50 pence then’.&lt;br /&gt;He laughed and called me a cheeky so and so and went on to say that as I was such a sweet girl it was all mine for a special onetime offer of 75 pence. I know it was all said in jest but I can tell you now it was getting pretty hot in that car, thankfully we were home before anymore of a to do. I was however mindful of the regrets I’ve had with regard to Adam and his hand warmer so as I got out of the car I threw it back to him by asking if the offer had a closing date. He just laughed and said that I was leading him astray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we parted company he said, ‘Don’t tell Wendy but I wish shopping with her was as much fun as it is with you’. I thought that was kinda nice, he was right, it was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-92045345899968549?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/92045345899968549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/cost-of-penis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/92045345899968549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/92045345899968549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/cost-of-penis.html' title='The Cost Of Penis.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-1436262346619422298</id><published>2012-03-07T17:24:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-03-11T17:56:26.812Z</updated><title type='text'>Shock horror.</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My holiday continues, seemingly much to everyone's amazement. I'm not sure why everyone finds it so hard to accept that I have two weeks off all in one go but everyone I meet &amp;nbsp;comments on the fact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Just now when I was out walking the dogs I met Adam, there was no mention of his hand warmer or the like. it's funny because when lying in bed thinking about it the idea doesn't seem so bad, but when you're there with the potential for access to it, I sort of feel more inclined to shy away from his hand warmer. anyway we just talked about the dogs and trees and other stuff, oh yes, and we discussed the fact that I was still off work - shock, horror, what is the world coming too?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said yesterday that I would show you some pictures from our visit to Spain, so here are a small sample for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDYZiiUMJgs/T1eZPyAw9hI/AAAAAAAAANw/X04Bg-fiyhY/s1600/Untitled-TrueColor-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="205" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDYZiiUMJgs/T1eZPyAw9hI/AAAAAAAAANw/X04Bg-fiyhY/s320/Untitled-TrueColor-02.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8-DiOX7pXd0/T1eZRHizgzI/AAAAAAAAAN4/NQiwiNk3ijI/s1600/Untitled-TrueColor-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="282" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8-DiOX7pXd0/T1eZRHizgzI/AAAAAAAAAN4/NQiwiNk3ijI/s320/Untitled-TrueColor-03.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9zwT-1hG7F0/T1eZTZVhjQI/AAAAAAAAAOA/n4YWhF4wZRE/s1600/Untitled-TrueColor-05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9zwT-1hG7F0/T1eZTZVhjQI/AAAAAAAAAOA/n4YWhF4wZRE/s320/Untitled-TrueColor-05.jpg" width="204" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7iYBKkmVu_I/T1eZVyYyfZI/AAAAAAAAAOI/iIpxWjj-gTc/s1600/Untitled-TrueColor-07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="270" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7iYBKkmVu_I/T1eZVyYyfZI/AAAAAAAAAOI/iIpxWjj-gTc/s320/Untitled-TrueColor-07.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qFwRL8_Ibdg/T1eZXrlSGcI/AAAAAAAAAOM/IkRGclnQvSc/s1600/View+From+Cathedral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="236" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qFwRL8_Ibdg/T1eZXrlSGcI/AAAAAAAAAOM/IkRGclnQvSc/s320/View+From+Cathedral.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-1436262346619422298?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/1436262346619422298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/no-blonde-jokes-please.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1436262346619422298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1436262346619422298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/no-blonde-jokes-please.html' title='Shock horror.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDYZiiUMJgs/T1eZPyAw9hI/AAAAAAAAANw/X04Bg-fiyhY/s72-c/Untitled-TrueColor-02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-4424168330837319201</id><published>2012-03-06T13:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-03-06T13:08:31.739Z</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back.</title><content type='html'>We arrived back from our holiday late last night after quite a long journey all the way from Paris. We had a great time and I took quite a few pictures which I will share with you over the next few days or weeks. Thankfully I still have more time off so I don't have to rush straight back in to work although what there is to do is pretty boring like for instance all the washing. Mum is back at work now so it is falling to me and my sisters shoulders. Anyway this afternoon I will hopefully be able to get round to sorting my pics out and so maybe I will get to post some on here later today or tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-4424168330837319201?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/4424168330837319201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/im-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/4424168330837319201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/4424168330837319201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/03/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-3249808193004401643</id><published>2012-02-20T22:50:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-03-06T13:03:02.374Z</updated><title type='text'>Hidden Forces.</title><content type='html'>One has to think sometimes that we really aren't in charge of our own lives. Maybe what we think are our own lives to do with as we please really aren't ours. I have spent some time today thinking about the things I could do to pass the time tonight, it took my mind off the cold wind blowing through the garden. I've got some vacation time owed me which I have to take before the end of March so after this week I have two whole weeks off work so mum said why don't we take a coach trip together just me and her. I agreed to go with her as long as it was somewhere warm, so last night we were looking at what was still on offer which wasn't a lot with it being such short notice in the end we did find one to Calella which is on the south coast of Spain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway we sat down tonight to watched an episode of Law &amp;amp; Order while having dinner, we usually watch something on the TV as we dinner. After mum got finished eating she got out her laptop and started booking the coach holiday. Well if you ever saw mum with a computer you would go crazy cos she just doesn't have a clue, I really have no idea what dad was thinking when he bought her the darn thing because it has been the cause of more strife in this family than anything else. As soon as you see her getting it out you know full well that you aren't going to be able to concentrate on the TV because she will be asking this, that and the other and everyone with just get all frustrated. Anyway as usual the lid of the laptop ended up getting slammed shut and thrown on the side of the sofa like it was being cast out in to oblivion or some such place from where one never returns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the end I&amp;nbsp;had to do the booking although that didn't go without problems because you have to have travel insurance and when I asked mum for the details she said that ours had run out and there was no way she was paying the cost the coach operator was wanting us to pay for theirs so she then had to get on the phone to renew our insurance with Staysure by which time my computer had dropped the WiFi link for some reason so that meant me starting all over again and I finally accomplished my mission at 9pm, some 2 hours after mum first started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now there is hardly any time left to do anything but write this post, feed the dogs and have supper in front of the TV before going to my bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-3249808193004401643?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/3249808193004401643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/hidden-forces.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/3249808193004401643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/3249808193004401643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/hidden-forces.html' title='Hidden Forces.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-797081222944452701</id><published>2012-02-19T01:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:30:48.175Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>If you came to visit.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;If you came to visit you would be treated like part of the family and as part of the family you would be expected to attend church with us this morning and by accident or design (you won’t ever know for sure) you may find yourself sat next to me, when during the long sermon my leg touched yours would you move away or would you enjoy the spark it caused?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5WFsGeOikA/T0DZKdopZjI/AAAAAAAAAM4/b5ytVK3j51Y/s1600/Preilous+legs-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5WFsGeOikA/T0DZKdopZjI/AAAAAAAAAM4/b5ytVK3j51Y/s320/Preilous+legs-03.jpg" width="226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;After all such innocent contact would be sure to go unnoticed by those around so why not enjoy the excitement it may or may not cause within you, there again maybe you may not be brave enough to risk taking on such a flirty little bitch. Maybe a sideways glance at my nylon clad legs would further arouse you – would it?. Is this little bitch serious or is she just tormenting you? Would your hardness grow? Would you try to hide it? Do you wonder if she is herself excited? Would you risk betraying her parents trust in your integrity? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-797081222944452701?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/797081222944452701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/04/if-you-came-to-visit.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/797081222944452701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/797081222944452701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/04/if-you-came-to-visit.html' title='If you came to visit.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5WFsGeOikA/T0DZKdopZjI/AAAAAAAAAM4/b5ytVK3j51Y/s72-c/Preilous+legs-03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-2632363212602684588</id><published>2012-02-18T20:58:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:29:42.162Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Caro Emerald.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Today I am listening to Caro Emerald. The track on the video is called Stuck and can be found on the album titled&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0046C0GCA/ref=oss_product"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deleted Scenes From The Cutting Room Floor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;and can be downloaded from Amazon £7.49. It's also available on CD too. I&amp;nbsp;downloaded&amp;nbsp;it&amp;nbsp;last night and I love it which is why I think it deserves a mention on here, I'm sure it will make you happy too because it's happy music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HNLOugYS1lo" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking after a dog from the village this weekend, I did the same at the back end of last year but that was for a whole week and not just for the weekend. I don't have it here as we have three dogs of our own so I leave it in it's own house and go over and check on it and take it for a walk twice a day. I like dogs so it's not a chore for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-2632363212602684588?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/2632363212602684588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/08/entry-no2-caro-emerald.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/2632363212602684588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/2632363212602684588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/08/entry-no2-caro-emerald.html' title='Caro Emerald.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/HNLOugYS1lo/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-2042126244534999493</id><published>2012-02-17T21:41:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:03:21.008Z</updated><title type='text'>Do you want it or not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today should have been college day but it was closed due to it being the half term holiday so I had to go to work instead which I don't mind at all, I much prefer it to going to college. They had me working in the greenhouses today, I wasn't doing anything exciting just some tiding up. I took a load of dead leaves off some Geraniums, and moved some Chrysanths in the morning and then after lunch I swept all the houses out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tonight when I was out with the dogs I came across Adam. I was a little annoyed at first because I could see him from a distance and I thought he was waiting for me. Anyway when I got closer I could see he was talking to the woman who has some horses in a field by the side of the track to the river. She was in the field so was not obvious until I got closer. I don't know if he was offering her the use of his hand warmer but he didn't seem that interested in me and you might think this strange but I actually felt a bit jealous that someone else was the focus of his attention. I really don't understand myself sometimes, I turn down the offer, get upset because he ignores me and then jealous at the thought that someone else might be getting it instead!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love Meg X&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-2042126244534999493?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/2042126244534999493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/do-you-want-it-or-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/2042126244534999493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/2042126244534999493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/do-you-want-it-or-not.html' title='Do you want it or not?'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-936012381430860515</id><published>2012-02-16T08:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:03:03.021Z</updated><title type='text'>Old Thrill</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The woman next door moved out yesterday, I won’t miss her as she was a stuck up cow always complaining about something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I’ve gone back to walking the river path and there has been no sign of Adam at all so it looks like I missed my chance there.  What with Adam and then Wayne the other day I’m really developing some kind of fetish for older guys to the point of having fantasies about them. I feel it's only a matter of time before I can resist no more and end up molesting one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Love Meg x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-936012381430860515?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/936012381430860515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/old-thrill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/936012381430860515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/936012381430860515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/old-thrill.html' title='Old Thrill'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-6690858149014947695</id><published>2012-02-12T08:24:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:02:46.019Z</updated><title type='text'>Wayne The Windows</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday I got up and was making a cup of tea with the intention of taking it back to bed. Whilst the kettle was boiling I fed the dogs and took the empty can to the porch ready to be put in the recycle tub later. I'd just put the cans on the little table we have in there when there came a knock on the door. I never even considered my state of dress, not that there was anything wrong with it, I was wearing my usual night shirt which goes all the way to my knees and my slippers. The thing that was on my mind was not to disturb the dogs as they would probably end up eating each others dinners if they left them to see who was at the door. So I quickly opened it to see 'Wayne The Windows' standing there. I think I surprised him by how quickly I answered the door because he hestitated before asking for his window cleaning money. He comes round and cleans the windows once a month and if there is no one to pay him at the time he calls back on a Saturday. Usually I'm in bed so don't often see him. I didn't realise how warm it was in the kitchen until I returned there to get him his £6 that mum had left on the shelf. It had been cold all week and so the porch was like a freezer and I didn't realise the effect it was having on me and just thought that Wayne was hanging on chatting just to be friendly. It wasn't until I afterwards when I went through to the sitting room and stood in front of the stove getting warmed up that I noticed myself in the mirror on the opposite wall. You could have hung your coat on my nipples they were so hard, I'm not one for blowing my own trumpet but I looked so sexy I even fancied myself and couldn't resist feeling my breasts while looking in the mirror, I got very turned on. Unfortunately my dreams were shattered by dad shouting down, 'Who was that at the door'? Well as you can image I didn't want him seeing me the way Wayne had so I quickly explained as I rushed upstairs to the privacy of my room whereupon I immediately sort relief for my poor body.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love X&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-6690858149014947695?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/6690858149014947695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/wayne-windows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/6690858149014947695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/6690858149014947695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/wayne-windows.html' title='Wayne The Windows'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-9005622256310683524</id><published>2012-02-10T19:36:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:02:32.586Z</updated><title type='text'>Return To The River.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This morning I bit the bullet and went back to my old route by the river, I have to be honest and say that there was no other reason than the wish to see Adam. Its really weird because on the one hand I’m busting to stick my hands down his trousers but on the other hand I know I would be too afraid of what I might find and where it would lead to so I was disappointed not to see him yet in some ways it was a relief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment they’ve got us doing a load of pruning in one of the rock gardens, it’s not a bad job as it keeps you warm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Love Meg x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-9005622256310683524?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/9005622256310683524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/return-to-river.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/9005622256310683524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/9005622256310683524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/return-to-river.html' title='Return To The River.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-7961273861962050445</id><published>2012-02-06T18:31:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:02:18.278Z</updated><title type='text'>Snow And Ice.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today at work we spent most of the day clearing snow and ice. For some reason no one can figure the milkman drove in to the middle of one of the lawns and got stuck, he’s made a right mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Love x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-7961273861962050445?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/7961273861962050445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/snow-and-ice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7961273861962050445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7961273861962050445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/02/snow-and-ice.html' title='Snow And Ice.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-1861856012484705907</id><published>2012-01-28T19:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:02:02.761Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>First Of Many.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Last night it was my first photo club night. Notice I said FIRST! Thats because I am going again as I enjoyed it once the nervousness went from me. Everyone was really nice and friendly and treated me like I was someone special. I felt a bit awkward at first but they said what they wanted me to do and by the end I was enjoying all the attention they were giving me. It was made all the better for dad not bothering to come which he was going to do up until the last minute, I was able to relax more without him there. We were over at Amanda's house tonight, they all take turns at hosting the club. I'm not sure how they come to pick the winning photo as it isn't the one I would have picked but I don't get any say in that, I just help drink the wine! I've made the winning picture my profile piccy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-1861856012484705907?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/1861856012484705907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-of-many.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1861856012484705907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1861856012484705907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-of-many.html' title='First Of Many.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-6202512881202847626</id><published>2012-01-21T21:27:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:01:48.418Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Megan Super Model.</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night went ok at the photo club, they're actually not all guys, there are a couple of ladies which makes me feel better. Dad seemed to enjoy it too and seems keen for me to go and model for them this coming Friday. What they do is they pick a subject like for instance last night it was a vase of flowers and they all take turns in taking some shots of it and then when they get finished they all sit round and look at what they took. This is when the wine comes out and everyone got very relaxed and jolly. Apparently in the summer they go out places and then the judging is done at a pub somewhere. I call it judging but although they call the person with what they judge to be the best picture the winner he doesn't actually get a prize. Anyway as far as I'm concerned if I take them up on their offer to model they will want me once a month and will give me money to buy something to wear and afterwards I get to keep whatever I buy so I quite liked that idea also I get to be a free membership which I think entitles me to get pissed up with them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-6202512881202847626?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/6202512881202847626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/megan-super-model.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/6202512881202847626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/6202512881202847626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/megan-super-model.html' title='Megan Super Model.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-4469829029799561917</id><published>2012-01-20T20:28:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:01:31.801Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Invite To The Photo Club.</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dave was round at our house again tonight. For those who didn't read the last post Dave is dad's mate who asked me if I would model for them at the photo club he belongs to, he seems pretty determined to get me involved. He's invited me to just go along next Friday and get to know everyone. Well there is no way that I was going to go on my own even for just a look so I told mum about it, this is the first time I've told anyone and she wasn't up for it at first but for some amazing bazaar unknown reason dad was up for it so he's going to come with me on Friday. He's got to be up to something I'm sure, probably thinks I'm going to be Britain's next top model and he and mum can then retire while I support them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-4469829029799561917?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/4469829029799561917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/invite-to-photo-club.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/4469829029799561917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/4469829029799561917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/invite-to-photo-club.html' title='Invite To The Photo Club.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-8566660531899775487</id><published>2012-01-17T18:42:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:00:51.556Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Invite To Be A Model.</title><content type='html'>I got a strange request today from dads mate Dave. I was telling him about my work in the gardens and I happened to say that before that I worked in a photo studio and he now seems to think that qualifys me as a model because he's asked it I would go and model for the photo club he belongs too. I have seen it advertised on the notice board in the village but never really paid much attention to it. I had to decline his offer of course as I'm not one for having my picture taken by people I know let alone standing there in front of goodness knows who.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-8566660531899775487?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/8566660531899775487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/invite-to-be-model.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8566660531899775487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8566660531899775487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/invite-to-be-model.html' title='Invite To Be A Model.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-4266316379043338517</id><published>2012-01-04T19:36:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:00:36.460Z</updated><title type='text'>Missed Opportunity.</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to confess that since Adam suggested a place where I could warm up my hands on a cold winters day such as this I've been having the most amazing orgasms so much so that I've been having trouble trying to keep evidence from getting on to the sheets. I haven't seen him since last week because I go a different way now but I can't help feeling I missed out on an opportunity there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meg x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-4266316379043338517?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/4266316379043338517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/missed-opportunity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/4266316379043338517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/4266316379043338517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/missed-opportunity.html' title='Missed Opportunity.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-3467439974749852504</id><published>2012-01-02T10:48:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:46:52.493Z</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I would like to wish everyone reading this a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I know the Merry Christmas part is a bit late now. Anyway I'm sure you won't turn your nose up when you see I have included a Christmas present in this post for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BnDO7_JGSFs/T0DTB8qfRmI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vsXdfgL5D40/s1600/Tongue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BnDO7_JGSFs/T0DTB8qfRmI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vsXdfgL5D40/s320/Tongue.jpg" width="218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-3467439974749852504?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/3467439974749852504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/3467439974749852504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/3467439974749852504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BnDO7_JGSFs/T0DTB8qfRmI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vsXdfgL5D40/s72-c/Tongue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-6220100793332944177</id><published>2011-12-30T13:34:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T09:59:23.288Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Dog Sitter Wanted.</title><content type='html'>This week I am going to be looking after someone’s dog in the village. I pass by their house most nights when I walk our dogs and the woman there got talking to me the other week and said how she hates to go on holiday and put their dog in the kennels so I just happened to say that if she wanted I didn’t mind looking after it for them. I never really expected she would take me up on my offer until last night when they called to ask if I would look after their dog next week as they were going away. What could I say after I went and volunteered? Dad isn’t best pleased and doesn’t want it here so I’m going to leave it at its own home and run back and forth, I guess that will teach me to be helpful won’t it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-6220100793332944177?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/6220100793332944177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/12/dog-sitter-wanted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/6220100793332944177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/6220100793332944177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/12/dog-sitter-wanted.html' title='Dog Sitter Wanted.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-7741630803530183671</id><published>2011-12-27T19:00:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T09:58:32.333Z</updated><title type='text'>Cold Hands.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;For a while now I've been meeting this guy from the village while out walking the dogs. At first we just used to say hello but just before Christmas he's stopped and had a chat about work and boy friends and stuff. He seems a friendly enough guy but this morning as we were talking about the dogs he got on about Tommy's lead saying it was heavy duty. I said it has to be sometimes and that its okay except when the weather is cold and then the metal chain mades my hand freezing and he replied that if I could keep a secret he had a nice warm place I could put them to warm up if I wanted. I didn't know what he meant at first but then as I looked at him for a clue he opened his coat and I suddenly realised he meant down the front of his trousers! I wasn't sure how to react, he said it as like a joke but I sorta knew he meant it. Well I wasn't about to put my hands in there thats for sure and told him that thankfully they were fine this morning. I think I'm going to have to change my route in furture. He might be a nice guy but he's like 50 and married!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-7741630803530183671?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/7741630803530183671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/12/cold-hands.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7741630803530183671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7741630803530183671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/12/cold-hands.html' title='Cold Hands.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-1632342979518452873</id><published>2011-11-30T21:36:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:48:38.845Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gadgets'/><title type='text'>Is she vain or just a dork?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was in town yesterday and was sat in a coffee shop when I noticed this woman outside pull something from her bag that at first looked to be a mirror of about 20cm by maybe 25cm. She held it up and was looking in to it and I was thinking what the f---, how vain is that? Then she started turning one way then the other,&amp;nbsp;re-positioning&amp;nbsp;herself and looking at the darn mirror again. By now other people were looking too as they walked past but it didn't seem to bother her. After a while she crossed to my side of the street and turned to face where she had come from and help up the instrument again and it was now that everything became apparent, it wasn't a mirror but a tablet PC, it looked like an iPad but I can't swear to that. Whatever it was it must have had a front facing camera and she was using it to take pictures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have a HP Touchpad, which I love by the way. I've heard people complain about the lack of a front facing camera but after what I witnessed yesterday I'm dam well glad it hasn't. Be advised if you have a tablet with a front facing camera only use it in private! Seriously, I'm not kidding! you have one of the coolest gadgets around don't go and ruin it by using it as a camera because that really doesn't look cool at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-1632342979518452873?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/1632342979518452873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/is-she-vain-or-just-dork.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1632342979518452873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1632342979518452873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/is-she-vain-or-just-dork.html' title='Is she vain or just a dork?'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-8670611029569461532</id><published>2011-11-28T21:31:00.005Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:54:40.729Z</updated><title type='text'>Perilous legs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday after church we went out for a meal which is something we often do. There was seven of us attending, Mum, Dad, dad's mate Joe and three friends from church who didn't have anyone to go home too and me of course. We went to a different place to usual, it was recommended by&amp;nbsp;a friend and whilst I had a fun time I don't think we will be going there again as it wasn't what we usually look for in an eating out place. It put me in mind of a working men's club. The tables were laid out really strange which sort of led to my enjoyment but it was a bit strange. They were all oblong tables which would seat eight people, four down each side, but instead of the tables being arranged separately they almost joined end to end with the neighbouring table. I ended up being on the end of our table with Joe on my left and this stranger guy at the next table on my right and whilst there was slightly more room between me and the stranger than me and Joe we were still close which felt weird. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anyway as I say it did turn out to be a bit of a laugh, Joe is not slow at paying me complements with his eyes although very polite and never takes it any further than an admiring look. At one moment dad pointed out this little boy with a pony tail so I turned round to look and became distinctly aware of the stranger guy at the next table looking down at me legs. I didn't actually catch his full on stare or anything but you can sort of tell just at a glance. Well that's like a red rag to a bull as far as I'm concerned. Whilst I'm&amp;nbsp;not at all&amp;nbsp;a feminist type liable to poke your eyes out for looking I will nevertheless torment the fuck out of you if I catch you. Anyway this guy got all manner of leg movements and skirt arrangements to peruse over during his meal, and no doubt Joe enjoyed himself too. This probaly makes me a bit of a tart and not something I should be doing after just getting out of church but I had fun and I'm sure I wasn't the only one so that I think is the main thing. I like to think I bought&amp;nbsp;a smile to someones face when they got home anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;These pictures&amp;nbsp;were obviously not&amp;nbsp;taken at&amp;nbsp;the eating place, they were taken at a later time&amp;nbsp;and are simply&amp;nbsp;posted for those who like such things and those&amp;nbsp;lacking in&amp;nbsp;imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-evgqo-WSAzY/TtP1tPu7NHI/AAAAAAAAALo/VR7UM9AhGMw/s1600/Untitled-TrueColor-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-evgqo-WSAzY/TtP1tPu7NHI/AAAAAAAAALo/VR7UM9AhGMw/s320/Untitled-TrueColor-02.jpg" width="292" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Y0os-rnrjk/TtP1uLrt9NI/AAAAAAAAALw/HAusRAJnQqY/s1600/Untitled-TrueColor-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Y0os-rnrjk/TtP1uLrt9NI/AAAAAAAAALw/HAusRAJnQqY/s320/Untitled-TrueColor-03.jpg" width="226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0hbIIALMpZ0/TtP1vNaunlI/AAAAAAAAAL4/8slLEkd-Kg4/s1600/Untitled-TrueColor-05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="184" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0hbIIALMpZ0/TtP1vNaunlI/AAAAAAAAAL4/8slLEkd-Kg4/s320/Untitled-TrueColor-05.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-8670611029569461532?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/8670611029569461532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/perilous-legs.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8670611029569461532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8670611029569461532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/perilous-legs.html' title='Perilous legs.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-evgqo-WSAzY/TtP1tPu7NHI/AAAAAAAAALo/VR7UM9AhGMw/s72-c/Untitled-TrueColor-02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-8895711909675124033</id><published>2011-11-16T23:34:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T10:59:49.889Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On the farm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gadgets'/><title type='text'>More news on the Edimax WiFi adaptor.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've noticed that something strange has happened to my 'Winpad'. Not long ago I did a post on a little WiFi adaptor I bought, click&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/08/entry-no3-edimax-ew-7811un-wireless.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;The reason for this was that the inbuilt one kept on dropping the signal all the time. Or at least I assumed that is what was the problem. Anyway I installed the Edimax one and everything worked fine, never dropped the signal or anything so I was very pleased. Then one day mum was having trouble getting her laptop to connect to the internet - mum is always having trouble with something to do with her laptop, I just don't know what she does to it. Anyway I decided to try the little WiFi adaptor from my 'Winpad' and it worked a treat so I let her keep it with the intention of getting myself another one. In between times I used my 'Winpad' now and again and I suddenly realised that it was working okay now even without the Edimax adaptor! So I don't know if the software that came with the adaptor has cured some fault with the original inbuilt WiFi or what but it's spot on now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pOCODgiOW0E/T0DWCKZXLdI/AAAAAAAAAMo/fUv5NZUuxvo/s1600/41NhYNSHjUL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pOCODgiOW0E/T0DWCKZXLdI/AAAAAAAAAMo/fUv5NZUuxvo/s320/41NhYNSHjUL.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hxELV8Ab_gY/T0DWDLuxt7I/AAAAAAAAAMw/qVoEvsfMlRw/s1600/41YLuUEzexL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hxELV8Ab_gY/T0DWDLuxt7I/AAAAAAAAAMw/qVoEvsfMlRw/s320/41YLuUEzexL.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-8895711909675124033?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/8895711909675124033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/more-news-on-edimax-wifi-adaptor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8895711909675124033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8895711909675124033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/more-news-on-edimax-wifi-adaptor.html' title='More news on the Edimax WiFi adaptor.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pOCODgiOW0E/T0DWCKZXLdI/AAAAAAAAAMo/fUv5NZUuxvo/s72-c/41NhYNSHjUL.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-5837535393948946187</id><published>2011-11-06T17:15:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:03:19.704Z</updated><title type='text'>Guy Fawkes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday was Guy Fawkes day or some call it bonfire night. For those that don't know Guy Fawkes was a guy from way back and him and his gang decided to blow up the houses of parliment when the then king was in them - it sort of makes you wonder what the human race has learnt in all that time doesn't it! I think it was King James who was on the throne at the time&amp;nbsp;but not dead sure about that - I know it wasn't Elvis cos he died on the throne later. Anyway Guy Fawkes got caught before he could do the deed and also the rest of his gang was rounded up. In those days you didn't like need triple evidence in order to arrest someone. Anyway Guy Fawkes got hung drawn and quartered, not sure what happened to his gang but probably they got the same treatment and so that is what we celebrate on November 5th - the fact that they were caught. Unfortunately I didn't get to go celebrate because I had to work which was a bit of a bitch but never mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-5837535393948946187?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/5837535393948946187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/guy-fawkes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/5837535393948946187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/5837535393948946187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/guy-fawkes.html' title='Guy Fawkes.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-8027619484494519377</id><published>2011-11-04T13:08:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:06:40.831Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Local News'/><title type='text'>Leaving.</title><content type='html'>I heard today that the woman who lives nextdoor to us is leaving at the end of February, I can't say that I will be right disappointed or anything as she has done plenty of complaining and passing comments to other people about my dog 608 barking, it doesn't seem to matter that I have to lie in bed listening to her TV until midnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-8027619484494519377?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/8027619484494519377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/leaving.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8027619484494519377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8027619484494519377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/11/leaving.html' title='Leaving.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-8693044230767103062</id><published>2011-10-26T19:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:07:41.190Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wardrobe'/><title type='text'>Red and blue.</title><content type='html'>We haven't had anything from my wardrobe yet so I am going to put that right and show you a pair of shoes. You can't see it in these picture - sorry, but I wear one with a red lace and the other with a blue lace just for fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D7cA76xU7rw/TqhT6F8kb0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/IBQ0OOiXpLM/s1600/Redsoleshoe-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="177" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D7cA76xU7rw/TqhT6F8kb0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/IBQ0OOiXpLM/s320/Redsoleshoe-01.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yW5t06RRiV4/TqhT7Ev17zI/AAAAAAAAALY/wvcien3exP0/s1600/Redsoleshoe-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="194" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yW5t06RRiV4/TqhT7Ev17zI/AAAAAAAAALY/wvcien3exP0/s320/Redsoleshoe-02.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-8693044230767103062?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/8693044230767103062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/10/red-and-blue.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8693044230767103062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/8693044230767103062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/10/red-and-blue.html' title='Red and blue.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D7cA76xU7rw/TqhT6F8kb0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/IBQ0OOiXpLM/s72-c/Redsoleshoe-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-1607275212497028119</id><published>2011-10-18T11:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:14:02.907Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gadgets'/><title type='text'>Edimax EW-7811UN Wireless Network Adapter.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The thing that has made me happy today is this little thing. A while ago I bought a Winpad which is a tablet that runs Windows 7. It's a great gadget and I love it but it does my head in because for some reason the WiFi keeps on dropping out every ten minutes or so and the only way I can get it back in to run a lengthy diagnostic scan or turn the whole thing off and back on. Also it crashes quite a lot for some reason that I don't know why. Anyway I was window shopping on Amazon and saw this network adaptor for £15.00 including postage so I though I would give it a try and I have to say that after using it for a week it has not dropped out once so I am well pleased. Because of it's small size I am able to have it plugged in and it not affect the tablet form. You can check it out and get further details&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B003MTTJOY/ref=oss_product"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Now all I need to do is sort out the crashing issue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lXsPrHvqlAo/Tk4zKGZ4fcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/vO3ioD_D1DM/s1600/CIMG0052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lXsPrHvqlAo/Tk4zKGZ4fcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/vO3ioD_D1DM/s320/CIMG0052.jpg" width="239px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vAhF3_9cW9g/Tk4zLMh9iZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/oJWPDTSX2LQ/s1600/EW-7811Un_217X205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vAhF3_9cW9g/Tk4zLMh9iZI/AAAAAAAAAB4/oJWPDTSX2LQ/s1600/EW-7811Un_217X205.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-1607275212497028119?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/1607275212497028119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/08/entry-no3-edimax-ew-7811un-wireless.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1607275212497028119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1607275212497028119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/08/entry-no3-edimax-ew-7811un-wireless.html' title='Edimax EW-7811UN Wireless Network Adapter.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lXsPrHvqlAo/Tk4zKGZ4fcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/vO3ioD_D1DM/s72-c/CIMG0052.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-1565556601992283169</id><published>2011-08-19T21:19:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:15:04.950Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On the farm'/><title type='text'>Corn Carting.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;What made me happy today then? That's easy - I got to go corn carting again this afternoon which means I got to drive a tractor which always makes me happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOG_video_class" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" height="266" id="BLOG_video-521aa07e6315ebf6" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D521aa07e6315ebf6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1317261198%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D44898D05D82F79AF2A2E603396184EB89D1CEB9A.2839A4540BB224BCFE0EC7A302613850E1495160%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D521aa07e6315ebf6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DNw5iS9CzYoW5BjGk3WA77MjOsco&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D521aa07e6315ebf6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1317261198%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D44898D05D82F79AF2A2E603396184EB89D1CEB9A.2839A4540BB224BCFE0EC7A302613850E1495160%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D521aa07e6315ebf6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DNw5iS9CzYoW5BjGk3WA77MjOsco&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It was hot work though as I had to use an old tractor with no air conditioning &amp;nbsp;but I wasn't that bothered and there are ways that you can cool down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cooling off whilst unloading.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yfd6URW43xE/Tk7E9X91f2I/AAAAAAAAAB8/3k-D7RIJWqc/s1600/Harvest+time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="231px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yfd6URW43xE/Tk7E9X91f2I/AAAAAAAAAB8/3k-D7RIJWqc/s320/Harvest+time.jpg" width="320px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-1565556601992283169?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/1565556601992283169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/08/entry-no4-corn-carting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1565556601992283169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/1565556601992283169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/08/entry-no4-corn-carting.html' title='Corn Carting.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yfd6URW43xE/Tk7E9X91f2I/AAAAAAAAAB8/3k-D7RIJWqc/s72-c/Harvest+time.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-7292550830816907647</id><published>2011-04-23T23:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:19:32.622Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Stuff'/><title type='text'>A day of contrasts.</title><content type='html'>Dear Diary, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been a strange day, on the one hand I've been flying high as a result of the encounter with Dave yesterday and also it was a fun day out in its own right, today has been pretty boring and quiet. On the other hand today my mum quit her job and there is a lot of trouble going on over that because her boss is not a nice person so is causing trouble for her and this is reflecting on the mood of the family. Things got so bad that she was starting to get ill from all the worry and hassle so in the end dad just told her to quit so this afternoon she told her boss who has gone ape and even now she has left and is here at home she is phoning mum making out she brought things home that don't be long her which isn't true at all, we aren't that sort of people. Anyway I'm off to bed now so we will see what tomorrow brings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-7292550830816907647?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/7292550830816907647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-of-contrasts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7292550830816907647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/7292550830816907647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-of-contrasts.html' title='A day of contrasts.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124721034042250495.post-5400708274565906196</id><published>2011-04-21T16:01:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-02-19T11:22:09.871Z</updated><title type='text'>I'm hot.</title><content type='html'>I love this sunshine but I am so hot its unreal. One more hour to go then finished till Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;Sent from my Treo Smartphone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8124721034042250495-5400708274565906196?l=thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/feeds/5400708274565906196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-hot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/5400708274565906196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8124721034042250495/posts/default/5400708274565906196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedarkendofthestreet.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-hot.html' title='I&apos;m hot.'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01920842130673942960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BIiKJlop5dM/T0Qia2dULmI/AAAAAAAAANE/tIm7QglTQB8/s220/On%2BWilliam%2B2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
