<?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-13922927</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:08:01.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noj's Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-115625631079195166</id><published>2006-08-22T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T07:18:30.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye</title><content type='html'>As this blog has stopped attracting visitors and I really don't have time for it, I am going to say goodbye to the blogging world.  For those of you that blog - keep it up, cos its a good read. But..sadly...I am signing out. Goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-115625631079195166?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115625631079195166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=115625631079195166' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/115625631079195166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/115625631079195166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-114433292357308227</id><published>2006-04-06T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T07:15:23.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Take This Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; As I'm standing here, staring into the mirror&lt;br /&gt; See the figure of a man trying to take a stand&lt;br /&gt; And live for something more&lt;br /&gt;Integrity is what I need and honor to my soul I feed&lt;br /&gt; To give it up, pack it in, getting rid of all my sin that's weighing me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Won't You come and fill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I want You to come and make me more real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Take this life, won't You change this life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Come and make me whole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Won't You take this life, won't You change this life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Come and make me whole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; In my pursuit of what is real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My heart is longing with a need to feel my soul come alive&lt;br /&gt; I trudge and I step through the height and the death&lt;br /&gt; Of a long narrow as I'm growing old&lt;br /&gt; And soon I will be home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Written by Shawn McDonald and Chris Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-114433292357308227?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/114433292357308227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=114433292357308227' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/114433292357308227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/114433292357308227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/take-this-life-as-im-standing-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-114062144617181568</id><published>2006-02-22T07:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T07:19:07.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living In Today</title><content type='html'>Something I have realised recently is that I have spent too much time living in tomorrow instead of today. I have wasted so much time dwelling on and planning for the next big thing. Why do we always focus on whats ahead of us, and not focus on the day we are living?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with thinking about the future (because it is very important)...but do we some times dwell on it too much? We seem to always be longing for the next stage of life. How many times have people thought, "I can't wait till the weekend", or "I can't wait to have a girlfriend/boyfriend" , or "I can't wait to get married", or even"I can't wait to have kids". We rarely spend time thinking about the day we are living and what we can do to have an impact there and then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a purpose for Today. Why do we need to rush through life, always looking forward, instead of focussing on the day we are in. We take each day we live for granted and one day we will look back on them and realise what a gift that day was and wish we had lived it differently. We should make every day we live, matter. Every day is special. Lets live in Today and not in Tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-114062144617181568?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/114062144617181568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=114062144617181568' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/114062144617181568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/114062144617181568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2006/02/living-in-today_22.html' title='Living In Today'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-113680487243267388</id><published>2006-01-09T02:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T03:07:52.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The World for a Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;&lt;!--   @page { size: 21cm 29.7cm; margin: 2cm }  --&gt;&lt;/style&gt; The day is over, you are driving home. You tune in your radio.You hear a little blurb about a little village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. Its not influenza, but three of four people are dead, and its kind of interesting, and they are sending some doctors over there to investigate it. &lt;p&gt;You don't think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say its not three villagers, its 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of India, and it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/boy.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/200/boy.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this disease strain has never been seen before. By Monday morning when you get up, its the lead story. For its not just India; its Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran and before you know it, you're hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now as "the mystery flu." The President has made some comment that he and everyone are praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering, "How are we going to contain it?" That's when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And that's why that night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a French news program into English; There's a man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu. It has come to Europe. Panic strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it you have it for a week before you know it. Then you have four days of unbelievable symptoms. And then you die. Britain closes its borders, but its too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton and it's Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes the following announcement: "Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come back until we find a cure for this thing." &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Within four days our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are talking about "What if it comes to this country"? And preachers on Tuesday are saying "It's the scourge of God." It's Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs if from the parking lot and yells, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio!" And while the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made. Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the mystery flu. Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country. People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It's as though it's just sweeping in from the borders. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And then all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't been infected and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly and safely, to the hospitals. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line and they've got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your spouse and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type and they say, "wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name you can be dismissed and go home." You stand around, scared, with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on and if this is the end of the World. Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says," Daddy, that's me." Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. "Wait a minute. Hold on!" And they say, Its okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the disease. We think he has got the right type. Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses crying and hugging one another-some are even laughing. It's the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and says, "Thank you sir. Your son's blood type is perfect. It's clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine." &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying. But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor would be a minor and we need.....we need you to sign a consent form." You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty. "H-h-h-ow many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades and he says, "We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren't prepared. We need it all!" "But-but. . . .I don't understand. He's my only son!" "We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We-We need it all!" "But can't you give him a transfusion?" "If we had clean blood we would. Please, will you please sign?" In numb silence you do. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Then they say, "would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?" Could you walk back? Could you walk back to that room where he sits on a table saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Could you take his hands and say, "Son, your mommy and I love you and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn't just have to be. Do you understand that?" And when that old doctor comes back in and says, "I'm sorry, we've got to get started. People all over the world are dying." Could you leave? Could you walk out while he is saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad? Why. . . .why have you forsaken me?" And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and some folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even bother to come because they have better things to do, and some folks come with just a pretentious smile and just pretend to care. Would you want to jump up and say, "EXCUSE ME! MY SON DIED FOR YOU! DON'T YOU EVEN CARE? DOES IT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?" I wonder, is that what God wants to say? "MY SON DIED FOR YOU! MY ONLY SON! DOES IT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/13922927-113680487243267388?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/113680487243267388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=113680487243267388' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113680487243267388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113680487243267388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2006/01/world-for-life.html' title='The World for a Life'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-113414205269537340</id><published>2005-12-09T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T07:27:32.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Christmas Pic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/SaskatchewanEnterpreneur1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/SaskatchewanEnterpreneur1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-113414205269537340?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/113414205269537340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=113414205269537340' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113414205269537340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113414205269537340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/12/funny-christmas-pic.html' title='Funny Christmas Pic'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-113337715166963592</id><published>2005-11-30T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T10:59:11.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scotland</title><content type='html'>Well, I've just got back from Scotland and have had a great time. Laura and I went up to visit Jude and Archie for the weekend. The whole weekend I was saying it was going to snow and then finally, on monday, it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/DSCN0056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Snows quite a facinating thing isn't it? Why do people always get so excited about it? One snowflake wouldn't get noticed, or even a few, but when enough falls the whole country seems to stop. What is it about snow?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/DSCN0034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, we had a great time up there. Jude and Archie are involved in some great stuff and it was just so great to see them. I definately can't wait to go up again soon (well in about a years time). &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/DSCN0058.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-113337715166963592?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/113337715166963592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=113337715166963592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113337715166963592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113337715166963592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/11/scotland_30.html' title='Scotland'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-113170489321474506</id><published>2005-11-11T02:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T05:34:44.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm fine . . . . honest!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Farmer Joe was suing a trucking company for injuries sustained in an accident. In court, the company's fancy lawyer was questioning Farmer Joe.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;"Didn't you say, at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine'?" asked the lawyer.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;Farmer Joe responded, "Well, I'll tell you what happened.  I had just loaded my favorite mule, Bessie, into the . . ."&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;"I didn't ask for any details," the lawyer interrupted. "Just answer the question. Did you not say, at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine'?"&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;Farmer Joe continued, "Well, I had just got Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road . . ."&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;The lawyer interrupted again and said, "Judge, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the Highway Patrolman that he was just fine. Now, several months after the accident, he is suing my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question."&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;But the judge was interested in Farmer Joe's story and said to the lawyer, I'd like to hear what he has to say about his mule, Bessie.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;Joe thanked the judge and proceeded. "Well, as I was saying, I had just loaded Bessie, my favorite mule, into the trailer and was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer ran the stop sign and smacked my truck right in the side.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;"I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurting real bad and didn't want to move. However, I could hear ole Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible shape just by her groans.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;"Shortly after the accident, a highway patrolman came on the scene. He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning so he went over to her. After he looked at her, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes. Then the patrolman came across the road with his gun in his hand and looked at me.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt;"He said, 'Your mule was in such bad shape I had to shoot her.  How are you feeling?'"&lt;/p&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/mule.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/320/mule.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-113170489321474506?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/113170489321474506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=113170489321474506' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113170489321474506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/113170489321474506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-fine-honest.html' title='I&apos;m fine . . . . honest!'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112965889062756277</id><published>2005-10-18T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T11:08:10.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion</title><content type='html'>It hurts sometimes more than we can bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passion.  If we could life withough passion maybe we would know some kind of peace. But then we would be hollow.  All we would be is lost, alone and empty.  Passion is a key to existance.  A key to our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without passion we would be truly dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112965889062756277?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112965889062756277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112965889062756277' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112965889062756277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112965889062756277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/10/passion.html' title='Passion'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112928710154476249</id><published>2005-10-14T03:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-14T03:51:41.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving too fast!</title><content type='html'>Warning: Fast Driving is a Danger to Dogs.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/Speeding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/Speeding.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112928710154476249?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112928710154476249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112928710154476249' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112928710154476249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112928710154476249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/10/driving-too-fast.html' title='Driving too fast!'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112868318382557810</id><published>2005-10-07T03:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T04:07:16.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A world of Media</title><content type='html'>Just read this on the BBC website:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The average American spends more time using media such as TV and the internet than sleeping, a study has found.&lt;/b&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;US researchers found that Americans spend nine hours a day watching TV, using the web or talking on a mobile.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;One-third of that time is devoted to using two or more media at once, noted Bob Papper, a Ball State University professor who co-authored the report. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"This is arguably in excess of anything we would have envisaged 10 years ago," Prof Papper said."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/viewingtipsimg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/320/viewingtipsimg.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Is it right that it is normal to spend so much time watching TV listening to music etc. Don't you think we are becoming a more antisocial society because of the advance in technology and media?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112868318382557810?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112868318382557810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112868318382557810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112868318382557810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112868318382557810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/10/world-of-media.html' title='A world of Media'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112731626842966196</id><published>2005-09-21T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T06:39:55.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Missing?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/GLOBETH.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/320/GLOBETH.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you ever take a moment and stop to look around you? Do you ever wake up in the morning and contemplate life and whether there is more to life? The world to me seems to be deteriorating all the time. We are living in a culture which is losing its morals by the minute. We no longer notice how bad the language has become, or how many abortions are happening around us etc. You know there are films that have been downgraded from an 18 rating to a 15 rating because the standards of what society is used to has changed. Sad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we no longer notice this decrease in the societies morals? Because we are accepting the way the world lives. Its not just the morals that are being lost - its everything. There are increasing numbers of natural disasters - just as revelation predicts etc. What is missing in this deteriorating world? What I would suggest is the Church! Yes - there are churches around, but when I say Church, I mean a church that isn't altered by the world and has its foot on solid ground. A church that is ready and prepared to make a difference! And where does that start? Our individual lives! Living lives of courage where we make a stand for what we believe and life a different, radiant life. Its not that easy but would that be great to move towards?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112731626842966196?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112731626842966196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112731626842966196' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112731626842966196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112731626842966196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/09/something-missing.html' title='Something Missing?'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112670020275843224</id><published>2005-09-14T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T10:09:47.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lake District</title><content type='html'>Has anyone ever been to the Lake District? I have just got back from a holiday there and it is a really amazing place. Me and Laura went up to join my parents on holiday. We were only their for 4 days but we got to see some amazing sights (such as the one below). Seeing sights like these make me wonder how people believe there is no God. This planet is so amazing and everything has so much detail that I can't understand how people believe it was just a big bang! It really made me appreciate the world we live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/Picture%20115.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent a morning rowing on the lake - which I now regret because I have some really sore hand covered in blisters. But check out this pic (Its not a pose - honest). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/Picture%20062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought of the lake district as a mountainous place - I kind of always assumed it was just lakes (which I think is an ok assumption because it is called the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;LAKE&lt;/span&gt; district). But its not - all the lakes are surrounded by mountains. Me and Laura attempted to climb one but didn't make it all the way, but even the height we got to had an impressive view, so we sat on this wall to recover from the climb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/Picture%20136.jpg" border="0" /&gt;All in all, it was a great few days and is a really good place to reflect on life and what it means to you. I know I have done a lot of thinking and I hope that seeing the sights I have seen will help me focus more on the beauty of life and what a privelage it is to be living. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/400/Picture%20068.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112670020275843224?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112670020275843224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112670020275843224' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112670020275843224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112670020275843224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/09/lake-district.html' title='The Lake District'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112592822618239284</id><published>2005-09-05T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T06:50:26.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Selfless or Selfish?</title><content type='html'>What is the purpose behind the things that you do?  Would you say the deeds you do are selfless or is there always a personal advantage for doing things?  Sometimes I wish that human beings were completely selfless (they do things for the need of others).   I'm not saying its wrong to do things if they have a personal benefit but surely we should do more things from a selfless heart so that we can help others.  The world we live and especially the church would benifit greatly from a selfless generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can be the same in Christian Living.  Do we do things for ourselves or to glorify God?  Surely we are called to live a life where we Glorify God in everything we do!  Do you pray - hoping to get peoples attention and to look good or do you pray to glorify God and grow in a personal relationship with God?  Do you make sure people see when you put money in the offering or do you focus on giving the money for one reason - to be used for the purpose of Glorifying God?  I know that this is something I struggle with and am praying that it is something I can deal with because God deserves our selfless hearts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112592822618239284?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112592822618239284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112592822618239284' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112592822618239284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112592822618239284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/09/selfless-or-selfish.html' title='Selfless or Selfish?'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112487416044686223</id><published>2005-08-24T01:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T02:23:51.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Funny Funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Joke 1: Unlocking your Car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two blondes were recently observed in a parking lot trying to unlock the door of their Mercedes with a coat hanger. Here is their dialogue:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blonde One: I can't seem to get this door unlocked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blonde Two: Well, you'd better hurry up and try harder! it's starting to rain, and the top is down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Joke 2: How Blondes print word documents: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ahajokes.com/cartoon/printer1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.ahajokes.com/cartoon/printer1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Joke 3: A Blondes Medical Terminology&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Artery&lt;/span&gt; -- Study of paintings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Bacteria&lt;/span&gt; -- Back door of cafeteria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Barium&lt;/span&gt; -- What doctors do when treatment fails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Bowel&lt;/span&gt; -- Letter like A.E.I.O.U&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Caesarean section&lt;/span&gt; -- District in Rome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Cat scan&lt;/span&gt; -- Searching for kitty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Cauterize&lt;/span&gt; -- Made eye contact with her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Colic&lt;/span&gt; -- Sheep dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Coma &lt;/span&gt;-- A punctuation mark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Congenital&lt;/span&gt; -- Friendly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;D&amp;C&lt;/span&gt; -- Where Washington is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Diarrhea&lt;/span&gt; -- Journal of daily events&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Dilate&lt;/span&gt; -- To live long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Enema&lt;/span&gt; -- Not a friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Fester&lt;/span&gt; -- Quicker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Fibula&lt;/span&gt; -- A small lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;G.I. Series&lt;/span&gt; -- Soldiers' ball game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Grippe&lt;/span&gt; -- Suitcase&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Hangnail&lt;/span&gt; -- Coathook&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Impotent&lt;/span&gt; -- Distinguished, well known&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Intense pain&lt;/span&gt; -- Torture in a teepee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Labor pain&lt;/span&gt; -- Got hurt at work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Medical staff&lt;/span&gt; -- Doctor's cane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Morbid&lt;/span&gt; -- Higher offer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Nitrate&lt;/span&gt; -- Cheaper than day rate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Node&lt;/span&gt; -- Was aware of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Outpatient&lt;/span&gt; -- Person who had fainted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Pelvis&lt;/span&gt; -- Cousin of Elvis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Post operative&lt;/span&gt; -- Letter carrier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Protein&lt;/span&gt; -- Favoring young people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Rectum&lt;/span&gt; -- It almost killed him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Recovery room&lt;/span&gt; -- Place to do upholstery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Rheumatic&lt;/span&gt; -- Amorous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Scar&lt;/span&gt; -- Rolled tobacco leaf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Secretion&lt;/span&gt; -- Hiding anything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Seizure&lt;/span&gt; -- Roman emperor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Serology&lt;/span&gt; -- Study of knighthood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Tablet&lt;/span&gt; -- Small table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Terminal illness&lt;/span&gt; -- Sickness at airport&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Tibia&lt;/span&gt; -- Country in North Africa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Tumor&lt;/span&gt; -- An extra pair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Urine&lt;/span&gt; -- Opposite of you're out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Varicose&lt;/span&gt; -- Located nearby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Vein&lt;/span&gt; -- Conceited&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112487416044686223?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112487416044686223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112487416044686223' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112487416044686223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112487416044686223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/08/funny-funny-funny.html' title='Funny Funny Funny'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112409450753646849</id><published>2005-08-15T01:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T01:33:18.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>London</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/Picture023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/320/Picture023.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;London is such an amazing place. The amounts of people, the buzz, the sigths, everything about it. Why would people want to harm such a great place? Being in London on saturday really made the bombings feel real - why do people want to harm such a great place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Laura to london as part of her 21st bday present. We went to see a musical called Les Miserables. It was fabtastic - if you like music then you should definately go and see this. There was quite a good moral to part of the story at the start which I will try to explain. The story is about a man who was a thief who had just been released on parole. He was rejected by everyone, but there was one kind man that took him in. The man, whilst the people in the house were sleeping took the silverware on the table and ran. He was found by the police but the theif insisted that the stolen items had been given to him. When they took him to the kind man who took him in, the kind man just said - "you left in such a rush that you forgot to take these candle sticks that I gave you". Instead of sending him back to prison like he deserved he gave the man more than he deserved. The story then goes on and the man becomes a mayor etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But isn't that the way we should treat people? Instead of being harsh to the people who hurt us (in this case steal) should we give them more than they deserve in kindness? I think so and is a challenge to me. Anyway - London was an amazing day, probably mostly because of the company I had. Everyone should just go and see London cos its a great place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112409450753646849?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112409450753646849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112409450753646849' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112409450753646849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112409450753646849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/08/london.html' title='London'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112290235530049182</id><published>2005-08-01T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T06:34:52.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shaped by the Past</title><content type='html'>I've noticed how we all generally live lives shaped by our pasts. Do you think it is a good or a bad thing to be shaped by our past hurts. This is now me being completely honest - a couple of years ago, I loved a girl so much . . would have done anything for her. Then she broke my heart and treated me terribly. It is now at the stage 2 and a half years on,  where she can't stand being anywhere near me (even though it was her that behaved badly and hurt me). For the last 2 and a half years I have been living scared of being hurt like that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It shapes my life still - I try and avoid comfrontation with this girl because of the hurt it will cause me. Not only that, it shapes the way I treat my friends, the way I am with Laura. The only peace I get from my hurt is from God. Is this the way forward to get through the hurts of our past. So I pose you the question should we allow ourselves to be shaped by our pasts? I don't want to be shaped by my past, I want to learn from my past and move on. What are your thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112290235530049182?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112290235530049182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112290235530049182' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112290235530049182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112290235530049182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/08/shaped-by-past.html' title='Shaped by the Past'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112255125362046760</id><published>2005-07-28T04:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T05:42:47.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Society</title><content type='html'>Sorry if this is heavy but it is something that is on my heart at the moment. Why do we let the society shape our lives more than we God shape our lives? Society says things like "Its alright to get drunk, its normal to swear, everyone else is smoking so why don't you, just one little lie itsn't gonna hurt anyone!" But God says completely the opposite. Although God says completely the opposite to society, why do Christians life a society shaped life rather than a God shaped life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way the society is today isn't only getting into our lives individually, it is also getting into the Church. "Its alright to be gay because God loves me" is the attitude of some 'Christians'. "God can use anyone to lead a church, it doesn't matter that I'm a woman" is the thought of others. I'm sorry but that is what society now says. It says clearly in the bible that both of these are wrong, so why are we letting society shape the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like us to follow an example that Alex has set (hope this is alright Alex) . Alex recently ripped up his computer games, some DVDs and some non-christian music, because he doesn't think it helps him in his walk with God. I want us to follow that example in every area of our lives - to rip up the ways of society and to take up the ways of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not writing this as someone who has got it all sussed - it's something I need to get sorted in my own life. Let me know what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112255125362046760?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112255125362046760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112255125362046760' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112255125362046760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112255125362046760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/07/society.html' title='Society'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112177302891704362</id><published>2005-07-19T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T04:39:17.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swearing / Passion</title><content type='html'>I started my new work last week and am in a team of 5 people. They decided to set up a swear pot so that the money they put in there can take us out for a meal. Anyway - this hits of problem when they find out that I don't swear. One of the guys said 'I find it hard to respect anyone who doesn't swear. Its like they don't have any passion.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't this really really sad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people swear? When they're frustrated? When they want to fit in? As punctuation in a sentance? I don't understand why people have to swear and then accuse others of not swearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to disagree with what this guy said. I would say that we have far more passion than they do. We have our passion for God. And I want to challenge all of you to turn swearing into praise and passion for God - cos its so much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112177302891704362?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112177302891704362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112177302891704362' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112177302891704362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112177302891704362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/07/swearing-passion.html' title='Swearing / Passion'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112142709286536500</id><published>2005-07-15T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T04:35:35.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passionate Worship</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The bible is full of examples of passionate worship.  With all these &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;examples how come we don’t seem to get the point that God is worthy of our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;passionate worship?  Look at Job in the Old Testament, he was told his &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;family had been killed and had lost practically everything and yet he fell &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;down and worshipped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;  “At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;to the ground in worship”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He was a man who had a passion to worship God in any circumstance.  You and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I might turn away from God and accuse him of letting this happen, but Job &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;just fell and worshiped.  Is that not a challenge to the way we live our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;lives?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Let us now look into Revelation where we can see a glimpse of the throne &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;room of Heaven and where we  see the creatures of Heaven worshipping God. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Revelation 4 and 5 are part of a vision that John has of the throne room.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It is full of images and things we can’t even imagine.  There are 24 elders &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;surrounding the throne and 4 living creatures in the centre just around the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;throne.  The four living creatures are creatures who each have a different face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  One is like a lion (which represents Majesty and Power) one is like an ox &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;(which represents Faithfulness), one is like a man (which represents &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;intelligence) and one is like an eagle (which represents sovereignty).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;These all represent that attributes of God.  Wow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;Day and night they never stop saying:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;‘Holy, Holy, Holy, Is the Lord God Almighty,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;Who was and is and is to come’”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Day and night they never stop saying – that’s a lots of time they are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;worshiping God.  Shouldn’t this be like our lives? We are called in Romans &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;to offer our bodies as living sacrifices of worship.  This means we should &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;be living our lives as worship which means all the time we should be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;worshipping God with the way we live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;At the start of chapter 5 it starts to talk about the scroll with seven &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;seals.  This scroll has seals that cannot be broken by anyone except Christ. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  He is the only one worthy to open the scroll.  In this chapter Jesus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Christ is symbolised as a Lion and a Lamb.  Christ the Lamb was a perfect &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;sacrifice and only he can save us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Towards the end of chapter 5 are examples of worship, which to me seems to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;have so much passion behind it.  “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;Then I looked and heard the voice of many &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;thousand. . . . In a loud voice they sang: ‘Worthy is the Lamb, who was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honour and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;glory and praise!’”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What strikes me in this passage is the fact that there &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;are so many angels and they are singing in a LOUD voice.  That would be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;extremely loud.  Try and think of the biggest crowd you have ever been in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and multiply that by an extremely high number.  That’s a lot of voices &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;worshipping God. Wow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;“Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;on the sea, and all that is in them, singing: “To him who sits on the throne &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;and to the Lamb be praise and honour and glory and power for ever and ever!” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;The four living creates said “Amen”, and the elders fell down and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;worshipped.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Again this is an incredible number of voices.  This is going to be some very &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;loud worship.  At the end of chapter 5 the four living creatures say “Amen” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and the elders fell down and worship.  How much passion is there in this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They fell down.  They put God higher then themselves.  Only God is worthy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They fell down and worshipped. Again I say this: Wow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Read Revelation 4 and 5 and you will see that this glimpse into the throne &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;room of heaven its amazing.  There is so much passion in worshipping God and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;just giving him glory.  Is this not a challenge to our lives today?  Should &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;we not spend more time worshipping God? Our daily routines can get between &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;us and God.  God wants our lives to be worship so let’s get lots of practice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;in because one day we will be worshipping him in heaven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112142709286536500?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112142709286536500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112142709286536500' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112142709286536500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112142709286536500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/07/passionate-worship.html' title='Passionate Worship'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112092342529125581</id><published>2005-07-09T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-09T08:37:05.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Funny . . . .</title><content type='html'>Here's a joke i read recently which i found very funny....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two Prawns, Tom and Christian, were swimming around in shark-infested waters discussing how difficult their lives were.&lt;br /&gt;"We never know when we're goning to get eaten," said Tom. "I wish I was a shark, then I wouldn't have to worry."&lt;br /&gt;At that moment a shoal of cod appeared.  "Your wish is granted," they chanted and, &lt;em&gt;pow&lt;/em&gt;, Tom turned into a great white.  Christian, terrified of his former best friend swam away and hid.  Months passed and life grew very lonely for Tom.  Whenever he saw his old prawn mates, they swam away in fear.  Christian was so upset by his oldest pal joining the enemy that he refused to leave his house.&lt;br /&gt;Desperate to put things right, Tom searched everywhere for the mysterious cod.  Eventually, he found them.  "Please make me a prawn again," he begged.  Puff - he was a shellfish once more.&lt;br /&gt;With tears of joy in his tiny little eyes, Tom swam home to Christian.&lt;br /&gt;He banged on the door and said, "It's me. Tom. Come out and see how I've changed."&lt;br /&gt;"No way," replied Christian. "I'll not be tricked into being your dinner."&lt;br /&gt;"But that was the old me," implored Tom. "I've found cod. I'm a prawn again, Christian."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112092342529125581?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112092342529125581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112092342529125581' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112092342529125581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112092342529125581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/07/really-funny.html' title='Really Funny . . . .'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-112002675477033619</id><published>2005-06-29T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T23:48:29.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustrating Lorries</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/1600/Lorry.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6900/1243/320/Lorry.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way to Maidstone yesterday to pick up Laura I discovered one thing that seems to annoy me more than most things. One Lorry &lt;strong&gt;trying&lt;/strong&gt; to overtake another Lorry - especially when there are only two lanes! Why do they do it? All they achieve is getting stuck behind another one and stopping all the cars in the fast lane. It really seems to get to me. Is this just me or does it annoy you guys?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-112002675477033619?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/112002675477033619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=112002675477033619' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112002675477033619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/112002675477033619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/06/frustrating-lorries.html' title='Frustrating Lorries'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13922927.post-111961849679993219</id><published>2005-06-24T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T10:47:40.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog</title><content type='html'>Everyone seems to be getting into this blogging lark at the moment so I thought it was about time I started. Hopefully I will keep this up-to-date. I aim to use this to let all you uni peeps know whats going on down here in Horsham and to challenge people with the odd article. Hope you enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13922927-111961849679993219?l=snojblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/feeds/111961849679993219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13922927&amp;postID=111961849679993219' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/111961849679993219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13922927/posts/default/111961849679993219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snojblog.blogspot.com/2005/06/new-blog.html' title='New Blog'/><author><name>Jon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07248758227525472393</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://uk.geocities.com/joncarter85/new-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
