<?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-23399990</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:54:57.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why be serious when there's so much fun in life?</title><subtitle type='html'>One man's thoughts about this crazy life</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-115334745988177229</id><published>2006-07-19T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T15:17:39.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Curtis who no longer blogs...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/fatty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/fatty.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/undies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/undies.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/bushpimp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/bushpimp.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/23399990-115334745988177229?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/115334745988177229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=115334745988177229' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/115334745988177229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/115334745988177229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/07/to-curtis-who-no-longer-blogs.html' title='To Curtis who no longer blogs...'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114789102836127356</id><published>2006-05-17T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T11:37:08.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;img id="slideshowPicture" style="POSITION: relative" height="480" src="http://images1.snapfish.com/346%3A%3A%3C5%3A%3A%7Ffp346%3Enu%3D3233%3E536%3E868%3E23245369597%3C8ot1lsi" width="320" border="0" name="slideshowPicture" caption="Picture 11" isvideo="false" hrfilesize="298" lrp="346%3A%3A%3C5%3B2%7Fhlnh%3C%3E%3Doqfcojruw%3Dlodihtrqw%3Dgo437AScwj%40%3Dot%3E2324%3D627%3D959%3D32336278688%3B9nu0mrjAVvrtdihEhnoPdoh%3Fgo437" incart="false" imgoid="902984544" imgid="902984544" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114789102836127356?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114789102836127356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114789102836127356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114789102836127356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114789102836127356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114780683293153643</id><published>2006-05-16T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T12:14:54.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love crack, I mean myspace</title><content type='html'>To anyone who really reads my blogs, I'm sorry for not writting. I've been on my space, I CAN'T STOP!!!&lt;br /&gt;I do have some good news though I pasted my first two final exams with an A+ I have one more on Wed I'll write again and tell you when I know the results.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114780683293153643?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114780683293153643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114780683293153643' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114780683293153643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114780683293153643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-love-crack-i-mean-myspace.html' title='I love crack, I mean myspace'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114635993925257672</id><published>2006-04-29T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T18:20:17.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I see dead people</title><content type='html'>I Finally have some time to write since I rolled my ankle today. Not cool.&lt;br /&gt;I Was running to my cabin and what would you know? Your ankle is not very good when it’s where your foot is supposed to be. I heard a loud pop, and boom -I was on the ground thinking if I have to go to the ER and they have to straighten my foot out, I want morphine in my veins. I was with a friend, Erica Greeve, while she was in the ER to get her foot fixed. They just gave her a pain killer by mouth and started tweakin’ her foot around before the meds kicked in. Let me tell you what she said. Naughty words a sailor would think twice about saying. All I know is that wasn’t going to be me. Well they didn’t need to do any of that. Being an EMT and all, I knew to keep my foot straight and leave it that way until the ER doctor took a look at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did another ride along this week with City Ambulance. I know I’ve found my calling. I love helping people in need, though it’s sometimes sad, like when we got called to a possible death. When we got there you could hear voices in the house yelling,”Daddy wake up!” It was obvious that he was dead by the way he looked, very pale. So we started to put all our gear back in the ambulance, then the Medic ran out and said, “Hurry bring the gear back in!” When I got back in the house the guy seemed to be breathing. Bubbles would come out of his mouth and then disappear. I started checking for pulses while the Medic hooked up the monitor. Nope. He was dead. The bubbles were from the pressure still in his chest. Even though it’s normal for that to happen, it still freaked us out a bit. School is almost over. Can you believe it? Only three more weeks left and then I’ll be a certified EMT ready to deal with it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114635993925257672?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114635993925257672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114635993925257672' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114635993925257672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114635993925257672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-see-dead-people_29.html' title='I see dead people'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114524825750978860</id><published>2006-04-16T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T00:09:01.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Job The Rooster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/100_1268.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/100_1268.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This one goes out to Bobby Ladwig)&lt;br /&gt;Job just survived the second chicken massacre. Even though we're not sure who the killer is, we do know one thing- Job is one tough chicken. He has gotten used to everyone here and is just another landite. If I were him, after what he’s gone through I’d be fightin' anyone who came near me, jumping up and digging my talons into their face, and pecking their eyes out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114524825750978860?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114524825750978860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114524825750978860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114524825750978860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114524825750978860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/04/job-rooster.html' title='Job The Rooster'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114481059213755313</id><published>2006-04-11T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T19:56:32.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>correction</title><content type='html'>Our cabin is 320 square feet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114481059213755313?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114481059213755313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114481059213755313' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114481059213755313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114481059213755313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/04/correction.html' title='correction'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114435885005500916</id><published>2006-04-06T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T14:36:09.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Poop In My Kitchen</title><content type='html'>Most mornings I wake up before my wife and kids. I walk into my kitchen, make some coffee and put on hot water for oatmeal and Elena’s tea.. I then do a 180 degree turn to go to the bathroom. After that I go to the sink ( passing the refrigerator on the way) to brush my teeth.&lt;br /&gt;You see my kitchen is my bathroom, and my bathroom is my kitchen.  Elena likes to call it our bathinette.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/100_1222.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/100_1222.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/100_1219.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/100_1219.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our bedroom is also our living room, dining room, and the kids bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;Most of you know that we live in a small 600 square foot cabin in the middle of the redwoods.&lt;br /&gt;Below are cabin is the Eel river, which this time of year is raging, and looks like a nice cup of chocolate milk Watch out though, one drink of this water and you may be squirting the same chocolate milk out for a week (if you know what I mean).&lt;br /&gt;The back of our cabin has a large douglas fir tree leaning against it, which makes the cabin slant a bit.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/100_1221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/100_1221.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may seem like I’m bitter, but really, I’m not. It is hard sometimes though, when Elena and I are in the kitchen/bathroom together, and she’s trying to cook and I need something, or vice versa. We have learned a new dance doing this. I don’t have a name for it yet, but if you think of one feel free to tell me. I do, however, have a favorite move, it is called, “Elbow drop onto the collar bone”. You could try this fancy move at home. You raise up you arm like your getting something from the top shelf, at just the right moment you bring your elbow down right on your wife’s collar bone. I haven’t perfected this move yet, but I do get some opportunities to practice&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114435885005500916?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114435885005500916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114435885005500916' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114435885005500916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114435885005500916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-poop-in-my-kitchen.html' title='I Poop In My Kitchen'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114385658919481229</id><published>2006-03-31T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T18:02:03.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The highlights or parenthood .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/cartoon_dog_barf_001.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/cartoon_dog_barf_001.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night as Jed was sleeping he keep burping, I thought nothing of it.&lt;br /&gt;At about 10:30p.m. he got up and started burping again, and not little boy burps, I'm talking you just slammed a beer burps.&lt;br /&gt;BUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPP!!!&lt;br /&gt;Well, after about 6 or 7 or these I thought, “Maybe I should get him to the toilet”.&lt;br /&gt;To late. Barf, or should I say.&lt;br /&gt;BAAARRRFFF!!!&lt;br /&gt;All over his bed, all the way to the bathroom,  all over the toilet, and a little in the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;Now that's what being a dad is all about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114385658919481229?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114385658919481229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114385658919481229' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114385658919481229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114385658919481229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/highlights-or-parenthood.html' title='The highlights or parenthood .'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114377662148397889</id><published>2006-03-30T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T22:05:15.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have Super hero friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/100_0013.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/320/100_0013.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about everyone else, but I have powerful friends  out there who got my back.&lt;br /&gt;Including this guy. If you try to step to this, all you'll get is an eye full of web. Oh, and let me tell you, Spidies web is sticky, and it stings when it gets in your eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114377662148397889?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114377662148397889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114377662148397889' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114377662148397889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114377662148397889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-have-super-hero-friends.html' title='I have Super hero friends'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114335049068437897</id><published>2006-03-25T21:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T21:21:30.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>EMT stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6640/2365/1600/pic2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6640/2365/400/pic2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m now half way though my EMT course, and I’m still loving it. I recently did my ambulance ride along, and clinical time in the ER. Both where very fun, and I learned a lot. I got to see some respiratory &amp;amp; cardiac emergencies, which was good because now I can see all these gi-normise medical words make sense to me. I was really hoping for one good trauma call, but there weren’t any.&lt;br /&gt;I can see myself on an ambulance in the future, you know dealing with chaos and blood. That’s what gets my adrenaline pumping. I can only do so much now, but when I become a Paramedic, I’ll be able to stick tubes down peoples throats, start IVs, and give drugs.&lt;br /&gt;This all sounds fun to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114335049068437897?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114335049068437897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114335049068437897' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114335049068437897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114335049068437897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/emt-stuff.html' title='EMT stuff'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114326178688723892</id><published>2006-03-24T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T20:43:06.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To play videos game or watch the little ones?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/images.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/400/images.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I’m at Nathan and Sara’s house. They used to live at the land but now live in Santa Cruz. They have two little girls and one more on the way. Today I’m the babysitter. It would be so much easier if you could just,&lt;br /&gt; sit on baby,  because then you would know where they are at all times. Since Nathan has a video game I want to play, it is easy to get sucked up in the game, and not in what the kids are doing. Before you know it, BOOM, loud crying, and fighting.&lt;br /&gt;Kids love to go crazy when they’re with each other. They could be the most boring kids in the world, but you put them together, and let me tell you, they will find something to destroy. They can rip something apart in about 10 seconds, when it would take a grown up hours.&lt;br /&gt;After Elena and Sara got home, I found out I was supposed to feed the kids lunch - whoops. Not that I forgot, I just thought that they had fed the children already, I did feed them snacks through out the day, but apparently chips and cheese didn’t cut it with the mommies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114326178688723892?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114326178688723892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114326178688723892' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114326178688723892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114326178688723892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/to-play-videos-game-or-watch-little.html' title='To play videos game or watch the little ones?'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114279835071113175</id><published>2006-03-19T11:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T12:00:44.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old School</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://prodigalproject.org/images/curtiselena.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://prodigalproject.org/images/curtiselena.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114279835071113175?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114279835071113175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114279835071113175' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114279835071113175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114279835071113175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/old-school.html' title='Old School'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114239510943013542</id><published>2006-03-14T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T20:00:20.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The wild life of Jed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/1600/100_0011.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/320/100_0011.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son, Jedidiah is one crazy guy, He is full of life and adventure. He likes to jump on and off beds, trampolines, couches, and pretty much anything that will give him a little bounce. He likes to run as fast as he can and fall in the dirt. He like to throw things, and have things thrown at him. I could go on forever. Those of you with little boys, or wild little girls know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen Jed do some crazy things in his life.&lt;br /&gt;When Jed was about 1 ½ we were at a festival in Tennessee called Bonaroo. It was a typical morning, Jed and I where hanging out on our friends Steven and Christy’s bus, and they too had a little girl. Thinking there was nothing to fear, since the bus was child proof, I let Jed run around with his friend. About five minutes later I hear Jed spitting out a drink and crying like never before. Not knowing what had just happened I immediately ran him to the sink and washed his eyes and mouth out. Come to find out, the cup (which was a large coffee cup) was full to the brim with whiskey that had been brought on the bus the night before without their knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;Another time we were at a wedding where they had a keg. Jed was about 2 at the time. At some point during the reception he got away from me, and I found him pumping the keg. Before I could reach him he got the nozzle in his mouth and the trigger pulled. Thinking that his cheeks would blow up like a balloon and beer would come spaying out of his nose, I ran and got the nozzle away from him, luckily there was not enough pressure to do any harm.&lt;br /&gt;We have a steep hill at the entrance of our property. Jed likes to ride down it on anything with wheels. One day I walked outside to see Jed speeding down the hill on a tricycle. Once at the bottom, he tried to stop but was going too fast. The petals caught his feet and caused him to flip over the handle bars right onto his face. He got up as quick as he went down, with road rash on his face and enough blood to throw any mother into a panic. Ten minutes later he was running around again.&lt;br /&gt;He is also an animal lover. He likes lizards, snakes, frogs, chickens, pigs, rabbits, birds, and any other animal you can think of. This summer he hung out by the pond all day catching frogs, and snakes. Now don’t think I said “Okay son, go get yourself a snake - and oh yeah, watch out for the poisonous ones.” Nope he just brings them to me before I know he’s gone, like a pet bringing it’s kill to the master for approval.&lt;br /&gt;Over time Jed has collected about 12 million plastic animals, anywhere from farm animals to Dinosaurs. Almost everyday he lines them up in a straight line, or a circle around his sister. He calls them his “guys.” This morning he made his line up, but we kept accidentally knocking them over until he said “Man I hate this! You keep knocking over my guys!”&lt;br /&gt;He is our own little Diego. Go Diego Go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114239510943013542?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114239510943013542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114239510943013542' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114239510943013542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114239510943013542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/wild-life-of-jed.html' title='The wild life of Jed'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114180462971411268</id><published>2006-03-07T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T23:57:09.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No blood, No guts.   No fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;For the past month and a half I’ve been taking an EMT course at a junior college about an hour away from here. It has been so much fun, and I’m learning a lot. I have had 3 quizzes so far and 1 skills test, and passed all of them with no problem.  I never thought this would be possible, considering I thought I was retarded after I became a Christian because of all the LSD I had consumed over the years. God has healed my mind over time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    What I really like about the EMT class is the hands on stuff.   I can’t wait until I get to do my ambulance ride-along and clinical time in the ER, which is on St. Patties Day, so you know I’ll be seeing some craziness that day. I only have to do 5 hours each, which isn’t very much considering that Paramedics (which I hope to be someday) have to do 450 hours of ambulance time, and 200 hours in the ER &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    All I have to say is when I’m in the ER or on my ride-along, I want to see some stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Not because I’m a sick disturbed individual, or because I like to see people all bloody and hurt, or some geriatric go into cardiac arrest. No, I just want to be there when it happens. Why, you may ask, does Curtis want to be there?  He must be sick in the head. No, I just want to know what to do when it happens. I want to be able to help people at that time of their life when they need someone there to help them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    Well I guess that’s just they mind of a EMT student, always waiting for someone to go down where ever we are, cause we think we know it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll let you know if I get to see anything worth writing about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;                                                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114180462971411268?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114180462971411268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114180462971411268' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114180462971411268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114180462971411268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/no-blood-no-guts-no-fun.html' title='No blood, No guts.   No fun'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23399990.post-114146092373064432</id><published>2006-03-04T00:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T11:43:46.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>As crazy as it might seem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well hello people of this crazy world. Like my wife I never thought I'd be blogging, or whatever you want to call it. I guess I am doing this because it seems fun, and people have told me I should do one because I can think up some crazy stuff. Like my silly yet profound phatty gangster rhymes (which if your lucky I'll let you experience one day). Oh and guess what else you get to hear about, my EMT stuff, yes that's right, I'll tell you whatever you want to know anywhere from pharmacology to blunt force trauma.&lt;br /&gt;So as you can see we will be having lots of fun together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23399990-114146092373064432?l=curtdog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/feeds/114146092373064432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23399990&amp;postID=114146092373064432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114146092373064432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23399990/posts/default/114146092373064432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curtdog.blogspot.com/2006/03/as-crazy-as-it-might-seem.html' title='As crazy as it might seem'/><author><name>Papacurt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02228857311341672550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7572/2397/200/CURTIS.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
