<?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-3427980236525698912</id><updated>2012-01-24T13:46:46.351+11:00</updated><category term='Amy Winehouse'/><category term='reflection'/><category term='making it count'/><category term='stillness'/><category term='drive'/><category term='same-sex rights'/><category term='the human Spirit'/><category term='loss'/><category term='the art of mindfulness'/><category term='A door closes...'/><category term='caring'/><category term='hunger'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='pause'/><category term='Blues'/><category term='clarity'/><category term='same-sex marriage'/><category term='shelter'/><category term='truth'/><category term='the gym'/><category term='sex'/><category term='frocks'/><category term='taking responsibility'/><category term='Jazz'/><category term='activism'/><category term='Motown'/><category term='platonic friendships'/><category term='time-out'/><category term='dating'/><category term='Butch cock'/><category term='vanity'/><category term='blurring the lines'/><category term='disgust'/><category term='tenderness'/><category term='Butch'/><category term='photography'/><category term='Northern Soul'/><category term='Daddy'/><category term='gas mask'/><category term='humour'/><category term='goals'/><category term='grief'/><category term='Music for the Soul'/><category term='gratitude'/><category term='that thing called &apos;life&apos;'/><category term='equality'/><category term='the dead of night'/><category term='satisfaction'/><category term='conflict'/><category term='body image'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='the power of choice'/><category term='masculinity'/><category term='Doo-wop'/><category term='Femme'/><category term='the right to choose'/><category term='health'/><category term='one go at life'/><category term='subversiveness'/><category term='questions'/><category term='drugs'/><category term='staying active'/><category term='little girl'/><title type='text'>Mister!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-4003077024281330923</id><published>2012-01-21T16:54:00.002+11:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T16:58:35.244+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Etta James; A Legend Lost ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="330" height="400" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YApNirMC9gM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace, Etta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-4003077024281330923?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/4003077024281330923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=4003077024281330923&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4003077024281330923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4003077024281330923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2012/01/etta-james-legend-lost.html' title='Etta James; A Legend Lost ...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/YApNirMC9gM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-3147026771797390338</id><published>2011-12-30T08:44:00.007+11:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T06:05:23.253+11:00</updated><title type='text'>US State Department issues LGBT Video ..</title><content type='html'>Hilary Clinton says it best!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;OBJECT classid='clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000' WIDTH='408' HEIGHT='402' id='amgas3videoplayer400' ALIGN='CENTER'&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME='movie' VALUE='http://iipdigital.usembassy.gov/amgas3videoplayer400.swf'&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME='FlashVars' VALUE='allowFullScreen=true&amp;autoStart=false&amp;playerWidth=400&amp;vplayerWidth=458&amp;vplayerHeight=402&amp;flashId=amgas3videoplayer400&amp;EmbedCode=on&amp;swliveconnect=true&amp;videoId=1335963399001&amp;copyUrl=http://iipdigital.usembassy.gov/st/english/video/2011/12/20111219142526aerdna0.5667492.html&amp;regionId=&amp;language=english'&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME='quality' VALUE='high'&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME='bgcolor' VALUE='#000000'&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME='allowFullScreen' VALUE='true'&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME='allowScriptAccess' VALUE='always'&gt;&lt;PARAM NAME='swliveconnect' VALUE='true'&gt;&lt;embed src='http://iipdigital.usembassy.gov/amgas3videoplayer400.swf' allowfullscreen='true' allowScriptAccess='always' swliveconnect='true' FlashVars='allowFullScreen=true&amp;autoStart=false&amp;playerWidth=400&amp;vplayerWidth=458&amp;vplayerHeight=402&amp;flashId=amgas3videoplayer400&amp;EmbedCode=on&amp;swliveconnect=true&amp;videoId=1335963399001&amp;copyUrl=http://iipdigital.usembassy.gov/st/english/video/2011/12/20111219142526aerdna0.5667492.html&amp;regionId=&amp;language=english' quality='high' bgcolor='#000000' WIDTH='458' HEIGHT='402' NAME='amgas3videoplayer400' ALIGN TYPE='application/x-shockwave-flash' PLUGINSPAGE='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer'&gt;&lt;/OBJECT&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-3147026771797390338?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/3147026771797390338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=3147026771797390338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/3147026771797390338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/3147026771797390338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/12/us-state-department-issues-lgbt-video.html' title='US State Department issues LGBT Video ..'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-7788135935494783670</id><published>2011-12-19T18:59:00.014+11:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T06:05:11.269+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music for the Soul'/><title type='text'>"Love Letter" by Clairy Browne &amp; The Bangin' Rackettes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ikSqMG22l0w?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="459" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The opening track from the debut LP "Baby Caught The Bus." Now available on itunes, or purchase by mail order from the official website. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Check it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.clairybrowne.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://www.clairybrowne.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Also, Vote #1 Love Letter by Clairy Browne on JJJ's Hottest 100!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Go on, all it takes is 5 minutes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.abc.net.au/triplej/hottest100/11/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://www.abc.net.au/triplej/hottest100/11/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-7788135935494783670?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/7788135935494783670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=7788135935494783670&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7788135935494783670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7788135935494783670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-letter-clairy-browne-bangin.html' title='&quot;Love Letter&quot; by Clairy Browne &amp; The Bangin&apos; Rackettes.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ikSqMG22l0w/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-1258739650191215010</id><published>2011-12-16T15:19:00.011+11:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T06:04:58.449+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daddy'/><title type='text'>Sleep deprived ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been 34 hours since I have slept. For two days there have been workers here at the units replacing all of the balistrades and repairing damaged concrete with angle grinders and concrete saws. Starting their work at 7 am and ending at around 3 pm, it has been impossible for me to get any sleep, and just earlier today I finished a 13 hour shift on the road at 5.30 am. By the end of it I struggled to stand and I could barely keep my eyes open. Strangely enough, I am now so tired that for some reason I cannot even sleep. I feel that I have moved beyond the point of exhaustion ... to something new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would give anything just to hear your voice ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To hear you say my name ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D x&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-1258739650191215010?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/1258739650191215010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=1258739650191215010&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/1258739650191215010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/1258739650191215010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/12/sleep-deprived.html' title='Sleep deprived ...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-3708814208053666972</id><published>2011-11-27T18:55:00.002+11:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T06:04:25.563+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired ...</title><content type='html'>of being taken for granted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-3708814208053666972?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/3708814208053666972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=3708814208053666972&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/3708814208053666972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/3708814208053666972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/11/tired.html' title='Tired ...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-4429084887358888810</id><published>2011-09-15T17:11:00.027+10:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T06:04:11.671+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Body and Soul - Amy Winehouse and Tony Bennett video</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What can I say, other than I am still devastated over the death of my favourite artist. At last, the long awaited release of Body and Soul is finally here ... and it is bittersweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" id="player-element" width="460" height="288" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/get/flashplayer/current/swflash.cab"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://static.movideo.com/flash/movideo_player.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashVars" value="apiKey=movideoNinemsn&amp;alias=flash-embed-universal&amp;playerId=movideoNinemsn_flash-embed-universal_1316078591802&amp;mediaId=129859"/&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.movideo.com/flash/movideo_player.swf" quality="high" bgcolor="#000000" width="460" height="288" name="player-element" align="middle" play="true" loop="false" quality="high" allowScriptAccess="always" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="window" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer" flashVars="apiKey=movideoNinemsn&amp;alias=flash-embed-universal&amp;playerId=movideoNinemsn_flash-embed-universal_1316078591802&amp;mediaId=129859"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GTXFCSqu2KE/TnHJqDVc3SI/AAAAAAAAAhA/woq4J_t0hXo/s1600/Amy%2Band%2BTony2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652520731613650210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GTXFCSqu2KE/TnHJqDVc3SI/AAAAAAAAAhA/woq4J_t0hXo/s320/Amy%2Band%2BTony2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--O4nfrrOPaI/TnHJqE5yKCI/AAAAAAAAAg4/9Z6znATbFFU/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse%2Band%2BTony%2BBennett.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652520732034476066" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--O4nfrrOPaI/TnHJqE5yKCI/AAAAAAAAAg4/9Z6znATbFFU/s320/Amy%2BWinehouse%2Band%2BTony%2BBennett.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rx_MVHDtK8U/TnHJp1XYtHI/AAAAAAAAAgw/wbGwq7wfN2k/s1600/Amy%2Band%2BTony..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652520727863669874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rx_MVHDtK8U/TnHJp1XYtHI/AAAAAAAAAgw/wbGwq7wfN2k/s320/Amy%2Band%2BTony..jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-4429084887358888810?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/4429084887358888810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=4429084887358888810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4429084887358888810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4429084887358888810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/09/body-and-soul-amy-winehouse-and-tony.html' title='Body and Soul - Amy Winehouse and Tony Bennett video'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GTXFCSqu2KE/TnHJqDVc3SI/AAAAAAAAAhA/woq4J_t0hXo/s72-c/Amy%2Band%2BTony2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-7755304451669574686</id><published>2011-09-08T06:35:00.042+10:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T06:03:51.847+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doo-wop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jazz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motown'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Northern Soul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music for the Soul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blues'/><title type='text'>Clairy Browne &amp; the Bangin' Rackettes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_6bTrKCuHyE/TmqXCkx3tjI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/fcXeq1BAL0U/s1600/ShePlaysUpToYou7SingleCoverArt.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 259px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650494752978089522" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_6bTrKCuHyE/TmqXCkx3tjI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/fcXeq1BAL0U/s200/ShePlaysUpToYou7SingleCoverArt.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://banginrackettes.bandcamp.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;http://banginrackettes.bandcamp.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If only we had more of this style of music on our radio's as opposed to the amount of crap that we are subjected to on a daily basis - my world would certainly be a happier place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After a recent performance at the Spiegeltent in Brisbane, it was said that Clairy Browne and the Bangin' Rackettes entertained guests with her smoky vocals and smooth styling, giving a taste of what it might be like if Amy Winehouse and Adele had managed to produce a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;That's a pretty huge compliment if ever I heard one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Check Clairy and the band out. I promise you won't be disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/23890967?title=0&amp;amp;byline=0&amp;amp;portrait=0" frameborder="0" width="400"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/23890967"&gt;http://vimeo.com/23890967&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/studiobento"&gt;Studio Bento&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-7755304451669574686?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/7755304451669574686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=7755304451669574686&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7755304451669574686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7755304451669574686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/09/check-it.html' title='Clairy Browne &amp; the Bangin&apos; Rackettes'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_6bTrKCuHyE/TmqXCkx3tjI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/fcXeq1BAL0U/s72-c/ShePlaysUpToYou7SingleCoverArt.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-5643409646346767356</id><published>2011-08-25T10:15:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T10:16:00.299+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Muddy Waters "Tom Cat".</title><content type='html'>This is one of my favourite all time Blues classics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;iframe height="330" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/IynJBgrG2pw?rel=0" frameborder="0" width="400"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-5643409646346767356?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/5643409646346767356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=5643409646346767356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/5643409646346767356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/5643409646346767356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/08/muddy-waters-tom-cat_9559.html' title='Muddy Waters &quot;Tom Cat&quot;.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/IynJBgrG2pw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-646145837370395926</id><published>2011-07-30T10:51:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T09:46:09.869+10:00</updated><title type='text'>To Anonymous</title><content type='html'>If that was you who  called the other morning just after 3am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love for you to try again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-646145837370395926?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/646145837370395926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=646145837370395926&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/646145837370395926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/646145837370395926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/07/to-anonymous.html' title='To Anonymous'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-6254910699436466100</id><published>2011-07-29T09:22:00.065+10:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T16:11:13.701+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amy Winehouse'/><title type='text'>Remembering Amy Jade Winehouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2y3iVVYdLn0/TjNN5YJS4LI/AAAAAAAAAe8/4CYEnExtMj4/s1600/Amy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 139px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634933206899941554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2y3iVVYdLn0/TjNN5YJS4LI/AAAAAAAAAe8/4CYEnExtMj4/s200/Amy.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dXpR1Zgk9Wo/TjNM-jKLRkI/AAAAAAAAAes/D1etg81jtLw/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse%2B2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 143px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932196244145730" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dXpR1Zgk9Wo/TjNM-jKLRkI/AAAAAAAAAes/D1etg81jtLw/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse%2B2010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E2EyROy0K-E/TjNMlY_ATQI/AAAAAAAAAds/q9dH2qKXd7U/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse%252C.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 156px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634931764016205058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E2EyROy0K-E/TjNMlY_ATQI/AAAAAAAAAds/q9dH2qKXd7U/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse%252C.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3LmLHas4E_M/TjNMlx9Gl8I/AAAAAAAAAeE/G4A2eT0VhSs/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse%2B2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634931770719115202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3LmLHas4E_M/TjNMlx9Gl8I/AAAAAAAAAeE/G4A2eT0VhSs/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse%2B2009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--gw6whSGaSw/TjNMliCXo-I/AAAAAAAAAd8/Kvur26bcuHg/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse......jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634931766446236642" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--gw6whSGaSw/TjNMliCXo-I/AAAAAAAAAd8/Kvur26bcuHg/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse......jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WEmTsmrHjh8/TjNM-XOQHMI/AAAAAAAAAek/wIq3ew3MEDw/s1600/Amy%2BWnehouse%252C%2BOctober%2B2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932193040014530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WEmTsmrHjh8/TjNM-XOQHMI/AAAAAAAAAek/wIq3ew3MEDw/s200/Amy%2BWnehouse%252C%2BOctober%2B2010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mPWSvvQ1tYw/TjNNXAhRmxI/AAAAAAAAAe0/R6ARM8f9Y0U/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 120px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932616442518290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mPWSvvQ1tYw/TjNNXAhRmxI/AAAAAAAAAe0/R6ARM8f9Y0U/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse....jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1gCzyJgOC9c/TjNaRsAwZkI/AAAAAAAAAfk/D2UduV3ydno/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 136px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634946818689230402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1gCzyJgOC9c/TjNaRsAwZkI/AAAAAAAAAfk/D2UduV3ydno/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse-.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WNigTs_Sm64/TjNM938lN-I/AAAAAAAAAeU/hTfyQrmGw7E/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse...jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932184644401122" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WNigTs_Sm64/TjNM938lN-I/AAAAAAAAAeU/hTfyQrmGw7E/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse...jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UXndP634oqw/TjNM-AuD2uI/AAAAAAAAAec/x-WgMV_99to/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse.....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 142px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932186999413474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UXndP634oqw/TjNM-AuD2uI/AAAAAAAAAec/x-WgMV_99to/s200/Amy%2BWinehouse.....jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wcBFf_0PXMU/TjNaRR1v91I/AAAAAAAAAfc/gSEK6oVgeF4/s1600/Amy%2BWwinehouse2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 188px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634946811663742802" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wcBFf_0PXMU/TjNaRR1v91I/AAAAAAAAAfc/gSEK6oVgeF4/s200/Amy%2BWwinehouse2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xBYi65CpRP0/TjNQeuxulOI/AAAAAAAAAfM/VD1KlnV9VzY/s1600/Amy...png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 174px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634936047653524706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xBYi65CpRP0/TjNQeuxulOI/AAAAAAAAAfM/VD1KlnV9VzY/s200/Amy...png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pEolJqp8EAo/TjNWcnfcG8I/AAAAAAAAAfU/mhBcAe0KZys/s1600/Amy.....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 156px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634942608407796674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pEolJqp8EAo/TjNWcnfcG8I/AAAAAAAAAfU/mhBcAe0KZys/s200/Amy.....jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading all the news since Amy Winehouse's passing has left a huge lump in my throat. But what has saddened me even more are the many comments left by people on news articles and other Internet sites who, for some unknown reason, find it impossible to see that there was a woman, another human being with human emotions behind the media's portrayal and their exploitation of Amy's lifestyle during the last years of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;I have been disgusted upon coming across comments such as 'live like a junkie, die like a junkie', 'at last the junkie mole is dead - good riddens', and shit like 'she deserved what she got'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;It makes me hang my head in sorrow and in shame and I am left wondering about how people can be so brutally cold and removed from the suffering and the struggle that others clearly experience throughout their lives. In a day and age of cyberspace, it appears that social media has increasingly become a dumping ground for toxic comments - a place for cowards to take great delight in sitting and hiding behind their computers as they troll the internet, breeding nothing but their bile and hate. I feel sorry for these people. I feel even sorrier that at a time like this they feel that they can take it upon themselves to write those sorts of things on tributes payed to Amy, while others are grieving for the loss of a loved one and for the loss of a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never been the type of person who got crazed or caught up on famous people and their lives, but Amy's music and the way that she sang truly touched my soul and made a huge impact on &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy Winehouse was a human being just like you and I. And sadly, it should never have come to this. No matter what anyone says about her, it will always be her music that I remember her by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is a snippet that I have taken from a piece written by Alexandra Topping from the Guardian in the UK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'The analysis of what caused her eventual demise, on Saturday 23 July, aged 27, will be dissected minutely over the coming weeks. But, said Charles-Ridler, those who peered into her life should also take a moment to look at their own.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes she did this to herself, yes she was self-destructive, but she was a victim too," he said. "We all have to take a bit of responsibility, us the public, the paparazzi. She was a star, but I want people to remember that she was also just a girl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1668008/amy-winehouse-salaam-remi.jhtml"&gt;http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1668008/amy-winehouse-salaam-remi.jhtml&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-6254910699436466100?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/6254910699436466100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=6254910699436466100&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6254910699436466100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6254910699436466100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/07/remembering-amy-jade-winehouse.html' title='Remembering Amy Jade Winehouse'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2y3iVVYdLn0/TjNN5YJS4LI/AAAAAAAAAe8/4CYEnExtMj4/s72-c/Amy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-4147051817185392151</id><published>2011-07-25T09:45:00.054+10:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T10:34:57.821+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amy Winehouse'/><title type='text'>Rest In Peace Amy Jade Winehouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o0Q-ZN5PE6A/Ti9EQbHqiYI/AAAAAAAAAck/_vuSasm29nQ/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o0Q-ZN5PE6A/Ti9EQbHqiYI/AAAAAAAAAck/_vuSasm29nQ/s320/Amy%2BWinehouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633796707812280706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fplO1ySah8I/Ti9EJZRLVzI/AAAAAAAAAcc/HzNvE3RIxgQ/s1600/Amy%2BWinehouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was only on Saturday that I decided to take my Amy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Winehouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cds from the shelf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, get in my car and go for a drive.  I spent hours driving through the mountains with Amy blasting through my speakers, as I have done so many times before.  It has always bought me happiness to listen to her music. I know that might sound  a little odd given that most of what she sang about was the pain and heartache she experienced throughout her life, but I felt honoured to be exposed to the honesty of her lyrics and deeply moved by the sound of her voice - that voice that was, and still is, unmistakable! But now... the thought of listening to her music brings me sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her song (There Is) No Greater Love has always been one of my favourites - she truly does sing it so beautifully.  It is one of those tracks that I play over and over and over again and never tire of.  For me, that song will always remain as one of those special, soulful, timeless classics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In comparison, whenever I listened to Amy, I was continually reminded of how most other artists seem so... &lt;span&gt;ordinary&lt;/span&gt;.  Not many singers have the ability to compel me to rush out and buy their music -  that is a very rare occurrence indeed.  But Amy was definitely at the top of my  list.  Let me tell you, it has been quite some time since I went out and bought and album (her's being the last), and it has been over 15 years since I have willingly parted with money from my pocket to spend on a concert ticket, but I always said that if she ever graced us with an Australian tour, then I would certainly go.  And now I will never get the chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;While at work early on Sunday morning I read that Amy had passed away.  There was the headline on my phone "Amy Winehouse Dead".  I couldn't believe my eyes, I had to read it again. And in all honesty, it really is one of the saddest things that I have ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that the world and those who truly appreciate musical talent have been robbed of an exceptionally gifted and unique soul, who's music will live on far beyond  most of the shit that we are subjected to on a daily basis, through platforms such as commercial radio and the Top 40.  Her death really is a tragic, tragic loss... and I really cannot believe that she is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest In Peace, Amy  - I miss your music already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2011/jul/24/russell-brand-amy-winehouse-woman"&gt;http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2011/jul/russell-brand-amy-winehouse-woman&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/3427980236525698912-4147051817185392151?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/4147051817185392151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=4147051817185392151&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4147051817185392151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4147051817185392151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/07/rest-in-peace-amy-jade-winehouse.html' title='Rest In Peace Amy Jade Winehouse'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o0Q-ZN5PE6A/Ti9EQbHqiYI/AAAAAAAAAck/_vuSasm29nQ/s72-c/Amy%2BWinehouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-8738675173077610410</id><published>2011-07-15T09:22:00.008+10:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T09:57:09.163+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Always on my mind...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CQhlNjdt15I/Th96c-2y1zI/AAAAAAAAAb8/kMRxSkDWGGQ/s1600/Virago.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CQhlNjdt15I/Th96c-2y1zI/AAAAAAAAAb8/kMRxSkDWGGQ/s400/Virago.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629352697564157746" 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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nearly bought one of these the other day.  I can't stop thinking of getting on my sweet ride and taking off for the weekend without a care in the world.  Just me and my bike - no thoughts of a particular destination... just riding on the road and seeing where I end up for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day soon... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-8738675173077610410?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/8738675173077610410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=8738675173077610410&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/8738675173077610410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/8738675173077610410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/07/always-on-my-mind.html' title='Always on my mind...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CQhlNjdt15I/Th96c-2y1zI/AAAAAAAAAb8/kMRxSkDWGGQ/s72-c/Virago.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-1131581412852928957</id><published>2011-01-24T15:49:00.017+11:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T17:20:52.134+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>Four months on...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Sadly, four months ago today my Nan passed away from symptoms related to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Dementia&lt;/span&gt;, which were accelerated by the stroke she had just over a couple of years ago. She lived her life with such dignity, but towards the end she was reduced to a small, fragile woman, who's body held on until it could no longer function. And watching her go out that way truly broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nan was a generous and caring woman who always wanted the best for her family.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I remember her very fondly as a classy, elegant, gracious woman who offered me more love than any kid could ever wish for during their childhood - and even throughout my life as an adult.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Over the years, she was always there. She was a constant part of my life no matter what was going on; nothing was too much of an effort for her as she was the kind of woman who got so much pleasure just from the simple act of giving love to those who needed it.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I think it made her feel important, especially &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; to her family was the most important thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One of the things that stood out about my Nan was the time when my father was diagnosed with cancer eleven years ago. She was very adamant about wanting to donate one of her Kidneys so that my dad could have a better chance of surviving, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;even though&lt;/span&gt; at that point it was a little too late for my dad.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That's the kind of woman she was.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She was truly amazing; an amazing and generous woman, who again, felt the need to want to give, and she did it with so much grace... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now that she has gone the world certainly does feel very different without her in it:&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The colours; the sounds; the way things smell... it just all feels different.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A little emptier perhaps, but I guess that's all just a part of my grief in play.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A dear friend recently said to me, "you can't intellectualise grief, it just hurts", and I reckon she was bang on the buck!&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Having said that, I like to think that now there is one more star shining &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;brightly&lt;/span&gt; in the sky at night, and that she will be looking down at us and lighting the way on the paths we choose to walk as individuals... with her forever in our hearts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was an honour to share my life with her and I will never forget her.&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She was one of a kind; a class-act, and they just don't make them like her anymore...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-1131581412852928957?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/1131581412852928957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=1131581412852928957&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/1131581412852928957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/1131581412852928957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2011/01/four-months-on.html' title='Four months on...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-2513558772623298593</id><published>2009-11-21T09:52:00.010+11:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T20:06:24.647+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A door closes...'/><title type='text'>Mister comes to an end.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I am closing down this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;blog spot&lt;/span&gt;, but before I go, I just wanted to thank everyone who ever took the time to respond to my posts, offer words of encouragement, and made my day that little bit brighter. I really have appreciated the people who I have conversed with through this site.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;It has been a hell of a lot of fun.  I might be back one day, but right now I just feel that it's time to move on.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-2513558772623298593?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/2513558772623298593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=2513558772623298593&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/2513558772623298593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/2513558772623298593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/11/mister-comes-to-end.html' title='Mister comes to an end.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-3827753823061559884</id><published>2009-11-05T12:07:00.004+11:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T12:15:29.452+11:00</updated><title type='text'>On Tuesday there was the Melbourne Cup, today there is this...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span lang="EN"&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;This is some sick shit - another classic example of a bloke thinking he can stick it wherever he pleases...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;　&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Man jailed for sex with horse"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Nov 05, 2009&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A man caught having sex with a horse in a South Carolina stable has been sentenced to three years in prison.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Multiple media outlets report that Rodell Vereen was sentenced on Wednesday after pleading guilty to buggery.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A judge also ordered Vereen to get counselling and stay away from the Lazy B stables when he was released.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Authorities charged Vereen after a woman set up a surveillance camera and caught him on tape having sex with her horse in July.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Horse owner Barbara Kenley said she staked out the stable and caught Vereen sneaking into the barn days later, holding him at shotgun point until police arrived.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Kenley had seen Vereen before. He pleaded guilty last year to having sex with the same horse and was put on probation and ordered to register as a sex offender.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-3827753823061559884?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/3827753823061559884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=3827753823061559884&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/3827753823061559884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/3827753823061559884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/11/on-tuesday-there-was-melbourne-cup-and.html' title='On Tuesday there was the Melbourne Cup, today there is this...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-4729683106061242634</id><published>2009-10-25T07:59:00.014+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T08:39:50.687+11:00</updated><title type='text'>The things people say...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span lang="EN"&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;During the course of a discussion about my lifestyle and gender identity, I recently had someone ask me: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"Do you think you turned out the way you are because your mum left you when you were a child, and some part of you seeks what you missed with her in your relationships with women?" (obviously asking if that is the reason why I am attracted to women).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;My response: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"Ahh, no, I blame my grandma for this one, you see... it was all those bloody Golden Gaytimes she used to buy me as a kid." *wink*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;To this day, whenever I bite into one it makes me smile...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-4729683106061242634?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/4729683106061242634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=4729683106061242634&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4729683106061242634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4729683106061242634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-people-say.html' title='The things people say...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-927578830684669752</id><published>2009-10-03T11:10:00.045+10:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T17:58:08.271+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hunger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drive'/><title type='text'>Those little encounters that help to fuel one's passion.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SsbjMQlyKcI/AAAAAAAAAX8/i3ea0EL97J0/s1600-h/Mister%27s+Place.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 150px; float: left; height: 200px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388243803946756546" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SsbjMQlyKcI/AAAAAAAAAX8/i3ea0EL97J0/s200/Mister%27s+Place.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span lang="EN"&gt;This morning whilst at the gym I met a truly inspirational woman who is currently in training four days a week to make the grade for next years &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;NSW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; body sculpting competitions. She manages to do all of this and make time to attend her training sessions, which she commences at 5:30am, for 40 minutes at a time, then showers at the gym and races off to be in her office by no later than 6:45am - where she runs her own business; a business that she created from scratch some 15 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;What I also find inspirational about this woman, is that about a year and a half ago she was a size 16, and she could barely make it up a flight of stairs without having to stop for a break. If you could see how this woman looks now - muscle wise she has a body that even I envy - you might be able to understand why I think this woman is pretty amazing. What can I say: I admire her drive; I admire her dedication and how much she focuses on what she wants, and how she doesn't make up excuses for not being able to attain what she desires. She keeps her 'eye on the prize', so to speak, and she just goes out and gets it. She decided that she no longer wanted to live the way she was living; as a size 16; as a woman in her late 30s who was also close to death, due to her weight and her state of health, and she dedicated time to turn things around and to make a huge, life altering change. And women like her are the sort of people that I find myself craving to be around at this stage of my life. Women like her are the sort of people who feed my own passion and my own drive for going after what I want from life... especially as for the last few years most of my time has been taken up caring in some way for two members of my family - my Nan and my mum who, sadly, have both suffered from strokes... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;For the last 3 years I felt like my time was not my own, I barely had the energy to focus, let alone to do the things I really wanted to do, as I was always so bloody exhausted. And when I did manage some time to do the things I wanted to do, believe me it was often a struggle - I was struggling with chronic fatigue. At one point - in mid 2007 - I had to quit studying for my Diploma of Surveying, and I haven't really been able to work full time since then due to the high demand of caring for family and, later on, from also being so physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausted - I felt completely sucked dry. But now that my time is finally my own - as Nan was recently placed into 24 hour care because her stroke has accelerated her dementia, and mum manages to get by most of the time living where she does - God help anyone who stands in my way of going out and getting what I want from life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;The bottom line is that keeping my 'eye on the prize' was the only thing that got me through most days for the last 3 years or so, as I sacrificed and I stuck it out and stayed in a &lt;strike&gt;city&lt;/strike&gt; town that I hate being in; a town where there is very little employment, and barely even a queer scene worth mentioning, just to be here for my mum and my Nan. So much of my life has been affected; my lifestyle, my social life, my health, my studies, work opportunities that presented themselves, friendships, and even my own personal, intimate relationship(s) have had to be put on hold as a consequence...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;And now with this new found sense of 'freedom', I find that I truly value and appreciate what time I do have to myself these days, and I try not to waste it, because I know just how &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;precious&lt;/span&gt; time can really be, and I also know what it's like to have to really struggle to get through each day, due to having to care for others who were unable to look after themselves, whilst at the same time also trying to keep myself and my own life afloat. Trust me, I know what it's like to have to sacrifice and I know what it's like to 'go without', because I pretty much did that in order to do the right thing by my family. And I am grateful for the people - like the woman I met this morning - who come into my life, albeit briefly, and who manage to rub off something magical; something that I recognise within myself, which, in turn, helps to fuel even more my own passion for life and feed this hunger that I have for going after what I desire. A hunger and a desire that is so strong that I can almost taste it in my mouth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I guess in short, as I sit here and reflect on the last few years or so of my life and also on the choices that I have made, I am left with a certain feeling that begs me to think: Watch out World cos here I come, you had better try and keep up with me - and that also goes for anyone who wants to tag along for the ride.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;* I too strive for the kind of physique required for body sculpting competitions, but as you'd &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; get me into a bikini *wink* (Gee can you imagine this Butch in a bikini?) I guess I'll just have to give the competitions a miss and train solely for the purpose of self-satisfaction - being the vain bugger that I am *wink*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-927578830684669752?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/927578830684669752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=927578830684669752&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/927578830684669752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/927578830684669752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/10/those-little-encounters-that-help-to.html' title='Those little encounters that help to fuel one&apos;s passion.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SsbjMQlyKcI/AAAAAAAAAX8/i3ea0EL97J0/s72-c/Mister%27s+Place.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-6751422995591715278</id><published>2009-09-23T11:12:00.029+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:00:59.469+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Butch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='platonic friendships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Femme'/><title type='text'>What a Crock of Sh*t!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have to laugh, as today I heard someone say that Butches see Femmes as 'fair game'. Well, speak for yourself, buddy, as I have never viewed any woman as 'fair game' - regardless of whether she were a Femme, or however else she cared to identify. Over the years, I have had, and maintained, many friendships with women where the thought of dating, or even the possibility of having sex with her, never, ever crossed my mind, let alone came up during the course of a conversation - be it in person or online. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-6751422995591715278?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/6751422995591715278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=6751422995591715278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6751422995591715278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6751422995591715278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-crock-of-sht.html' title='What a Crock of Sh*t!'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-4444492779871201597</id><published>2009-09-15T09:56:00.035+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:00:52.714+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Lightsaber Kitties.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't take much to get a rise out of me, especially when I come across entertaining photos of cats. What can I say, I have always been a lover of all things 'feline' and I could easily spend countless hours hanging out with my boy Vanyon, who never ceases to amuse me when he gets up to no good at home. Apart from sleeping the best part of the day out in the sun, his mischievous manner is certainly also something he is renown for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it looks as though this lot can all be just as naughty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7cm_QBoRI/AAAAAAAAAWk/577h5HHMQ50/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381481167126110482" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7cm_QBoRI/AAAAAAAAAWk/577h5HHMQ50/s320/1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7dlK_C7pI/AAAAAAAAAWs/i0QQVIERAMg/s1600-h/2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 293px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381482235428007570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7dlK_C7pI/AAAAAAAAAWs/i0QQVIERAMg/s320/2.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7eSB8LNQI/AAAAAAAAAW0/UPhiBTtMrL0/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 262px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381483006094161154" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7eSB8LNQI/AAAAAAAAAW0/UPhiBTtMrL0/s320/3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7eSB8LNQI/AAAAAAAAAW0/UPhiBTtMrL0/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7k__gOkmI/AAAAAAAAAXE/qorsLPOEQa8/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 277px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381490392783819362" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7k__gOkmI/AAAAAAAAAXE/qorsLPOEQa8/s320/5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7ehyU0qTI/AAAAAAAAAW8/e2xsU7V2q24/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381483276780480818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7ehyU0qTI/AAAAAAAAAW8/e2xsU7V2q24/s320/4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7ehyU0qTI/AAAAAAAAAW8/e2xsU7V2q24/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7ehyU0qTI/AAAAAAAAAW8/e2xsU7V2q24/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-4444492779871201597?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/4444492779871201597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=4444492779871201597&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4444492779871201597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/4444492779871201597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/09/lightsaber-kitties.html' title='Lightsaber Kitties.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sq7cm_QBoRI/AAAAAAAAAWk/577h5HHMQ50/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-6653548989942958308</id><published>2009-09-11T12:54:00.007+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:00:46.091+11:00</updated><title type='text'>This pretty much sums up my week thus far...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sqm8SXJLVBI/AAAAAAAAAWc/cRLC5oV_B-8/s1600-h/image002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 153px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380038253506941970" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sqm8SXJLVBI/AAAAAAAAAWc/cRLC5oV_B-8/s200/image002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only I wouldn't be standing there dressed in those clothes because then I would feel like I were in drag... *wink*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-6653548989942958308?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/6653548989942958308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=6653548989942958308&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6653548989942958308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6653548989942958308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-pretty-much-sums-up-my-week-thus.html' title='This pretty much sums up my week thus far...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/Sqm8SXJLVBI/AAAAAAAAAWc/cRLC5oV_B-8/s72-c/image002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-6310203526708994709</id><published>2009-06-12T19:27:00.028+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:00:23.229+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='taking responsibility'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the human Spirit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the power of choice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the art of mindfulness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='that thing called &apos;life&apos;'/><title type='text'>The Power of Choice.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Something I read not too long ago really struck a chord with me today&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; “Your life isn’t defined by what happens to you&lt;strong&gt;;&lt;/strong&gt; you define your life by how you choose to respond to the things life throws at you. That is the power of choice.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It reminds me of a quote I came across after doing some research on the author Viktor E. Frankl, whose book (Man's Search for Meaning) I just finished reading. It follows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Between stimulus and response, there is a &lt;strong&gt;space&lt;/strong&gt;. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-6310203526708994709?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/6310203526708994709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=6310203526708994709&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6310203526708994709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6310203526708994709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/06/something-i-recently-read-stuck-with-me.html' title='The Power of Choice.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-7642561223955493095</id><published>2009-05-29T12:02:00.022+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:00:04.500+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tenderness'/><title type='text'>Little...</title><content type='html'>I will hold you to that Banana Split,&lt;br /&gt;and when we share it I will savour each and every moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-7642561223955493095?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/7642561223955493095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=7642561223955493095&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7642561223955493095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7642561223955493095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/05/little.html' title='Little...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-5093275218002248493</id><published>2009-05-25T12:59:00.065+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:59:57.878+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Rubik's Cube and the Ballpoint Pen not the only things Hungary has going for it...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Every morning I take time to reflect on life and to ready myself for what needs to be done during the day ahead. Every morning I also go out very early for breakfast, and afterwards I sit and sip on my cup of lemon and ginger tea and take time to read the morning paper. Not only am I interested in what goes on locally, but I am also interested in what goes on globally. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;In this mornings edition of the paper I came across a rather curious little article that had me scratching my head, which eventually led me to remember some of the stories my gran used to proudly go on about her Homeland. That is, sadly, the stories she used to spin before her dementia set in.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Afterwards, I chuckled and thought to myself, gee, if only gran could see this one... I reckon it would give her a bit of a chuckle too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;High-Heel Sprint in Budapest:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;May 23rd, some 100 women took part in the race wearing high- heeled shoes with a required minimum height of 8cm for a $6200 prize.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShoQZt-wLSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/HYSCNyjk5c8/s1600-h/High-Heel+race.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 199px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339598342226717986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShoQZt-wLSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/HYSCNyjk5c8/s200/High-Heel+race.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShoQZt-wLSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/HYSCNyjk5c8/s1600-h/High-Heel+race.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;Please correct me if I am wrong, but I am not too sure if this is something the Hungarians actually whipped up all on their own (even though gran sure would like to think that the Hungarians were responsible for everything great that happened in the World) or, come to think of it, why some women would subject themselves to something which looks rather dangerous to me, just for the chance of a $6,200 prize. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;Okay, sure, $6,200 could be considered a substantial amount of money to some, while for others, a race of this sort might be considered fun to run in a pair of killer heels - although, from a distance, it's hard to tell based purely by the look on their faces, but under close observation (runner #80) it actually suggests to me otherwise - but Hell, I wouldn't last 5 damn steps in a pair of heels, not that you'd ever catch me in a pair of heels, that is *wink* but you know, I'm, well, I'm just saying. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;f truth be told, I am more of an &lt;em&gt;admirer &lt;/em&gt;of women who wear heels, especially when worn with a lovely pair of seamed stockings, but hey, let's not get me started on that one...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;It did get me thinking however, that perhaps this type of event is something we could stage over here for drag queens at the next Fair Day, to be held in Sydney next year. Who knows? We could hold a National competition for all the drag queens from all around the land to come and take part in, at the same time, using it as an opportunity to help raise money for charity, or to raise money to help educate and campaign for issues such as homophobia and violence against members of our community.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Yep, anyway, I certainly can visualise a bunch of beautiful, screaming queens tearing down Broadway in all of their finest. After all, it's not exactly the first time I would be a witness to such things *wink*. I know a couple that I have worked with over the years as a club DJ who would just love to enter... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Miu Miu patent leather pumps anyone?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShoQZt-wLSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/HYSCNyjk5c8/s1600-h/High-Heel+race.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShpLeFXo7rI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Lb9XIcu1BJ4/s1600-h/High-Heel+race2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 199px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 158px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339663288410631858" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShpLeFXo7rI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Lb9XIcu1BJ4/s200/High-Heel+race2.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShoQZt-wLSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/HYSCNyjk5c8/s1600-h/High-Heel+race.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-5093275218002248493?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/5093275218002248493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=5093275218002248493&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/5093275218002248493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/5093275218002248493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/05/rubiks-cube-and-bic-pen-not-only-thing.html' title='Rubik&apos;s Cube and the Ballpoint Pen not the only things Hungary has going for it...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/ShoQZt-wLSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/HYSCNyjk5c8/s72-c/High-Heel+race.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-8854078919560534265</id><published>2009-05-14T13:36:00.055+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:59:48.438+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't you just love it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I was just reading through a conversation which was passed on a little while back by an ex of mine after she discovered two people had had a nice little discussion about me and my life. Anyway, whilst reading through this conversation, I became aware that one of the latest rumours - based purely on conjecture - much like most of what was said during this tasty morsel of gossip - is that I apparently have a bit of a Harem going on LOL. I am not too sure how any of you would react after reading something like that, but it literally had me falling off my seat from fits of laughter. And for the life of me, after not being able to get my hands on an available date for last Saturday night, I sure as hell would like to know where my Harem of Femmes are at? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;You know, I was recently thinking to myself, perhaps if I invested in a palace complex, built some private living quarters out the back, decorated the inside with rich, lavish furnishings, threw in a couple of eunuchs and a few servant girls here and there, then they might come..? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Let me fill you in on a little secret, this way you actually get to hear the truth straight from the horses mouth, as opposed to the usual bullshit that gets bandied about on the internet by people who claim to know who I am, or anything about my life&lt;strong&gt;: &lt;/strong&gt;I am a 'one Femme at a time kind of Butch', and those who are actually important to me and who know me well, know that it has been this way for quite some time... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-8854078919560534265?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/8854078919560534265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=8854078919560534265&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/8854078919560534265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/8854078919560534265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/05/dont-you-just-love-it.html' title='Don&apos;t you just love it?'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-7245527756650146249</id><published>2009-05-12T16:38:00.069+10:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T17:58:38.679+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='one go at life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clarity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='making it count'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drugs'/><title type='text'>Another one bites the dust.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Another one bites the dust&lt;br /&gt;Another one bites the dust&lt;br /&gt;And another one gone, and another one gone&lt;br /&gt;Another one bites the dust&lt;br /&gt;Hey, Im gonna get you too&lt;br /&gt;Another one bites the dust&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At 10:12 this morning a text message came rolling in from a friend who I have not seen or heard from in nearly 3 years. It went like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Hey mate it's **** I have some bad news **** died on Sunday. Call me if this is still your number xxx"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason my automatic reaction was to wonder if it was drug related. Without hesitation I immediately made the call and was told that my friends death was in fact due to the abuse of prescription drugs. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Over the years I have had friends who's lives have sadly been lost to drug addiction, drug overdose, and it has me sitting here feeling pretty numb and left wondering if people will ever learn. To me, each time that you decide to put one of those little pills into your mouth - whether it's prescribed or whether it's something like an E - or when you take your next hit or snort that line of what ever it is that you like to indulge in, it's like playing a game of Russian Roulette - each time you take the gamble and put that crap into your body you never really know how your body is going to react (even though you like to think you do), or if this could indeed be the one time where you end up losing your own life, too. Leaving you gone for good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that High humans search for in this fashion ever really worth it in the end? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the long run, and for the most part, I've seen it cause a whole lot of destruction and, ultimately, the early demise of some who have crossed my path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this news, not only am I saddened for the loss of a friend who I met way back in the early Nineties, but I am also once again reminded of something that I consider to be special&lt;b&gt;. &lt;/b&gt;Something that is known as Gratitude. I am damn grateful of the fact that I removed myself from the scene and that I made the conscious decision years ago to lift my game, to live a clean and healthy lifestyle, and to never, ever give into temptation and to never go back. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wish that my old friend had the opportunity to have seen life through my eye's. I wish that he too could have been lucky enough to have seen life as the magical and precious gift that it is; a precious gift that we only get one go at. There are no second chances here. This is it people. So make it count. If not for anyone else, then for yourselves.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-7245527756650146249?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/7245527756650146249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=7245527756650146249&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7245527756650146249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7245527756650146249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/05/another-one-bites-dust.html' title='Another one bites the dust.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-7189327836140338352</id><published>2009-03-07T15:51:00.112+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:59:32.953+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='subversiveness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frocks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blurring the lines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='masculinity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Butch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Butch cock'/><title type='text'>Eggleston Hall: For Butches.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SbMvFJHcTmI/AAAAAAAAAKs/B0zuoXviiSI/s1600-h/Mister..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 144px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310640150992932450" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SbMvFJHcTmI/AAAAAAAAAKs/B0zuoXviiSI/s200/Mister..jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Clearly, this self-identified Butch has way too much time on my hands, and in terms of my droll sense of humour, it certainly doesn't take all that much to get a rise out of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;The other night whilst watching &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ladette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to Lady, I had a bit of a chuckle at the thought of the creators of this latest reality TV series making an episode of "Butch-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to Lady". Now, let me be really honest here (all chuckles aside), the mere thought of an episode such as this even &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;seeing&lt;/span&gt; the light of day was enough to send my head into a spin. Oh my Lord, can you even imagine it? I can just see it now - waking up early one morning at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Eggleston&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Hall and heading down stairs to discover the latest challenge, which is to hear that Mrs &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Harbord&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; announces a zero tolerance policy on Butch cock. Or for something even more dizzying&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; being told that I must now put in my hair curlers, slip into my pantyhose and don a frock! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I don't know about the rest of you Butches, but I still suffer from P.T.D.S (post traumatic dress syndrome) from the class of 1987 - which was the last time I was &lt;strike&gt;forced to wear&lt;/strike&gt; caught in a dress...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;And, even though I don't really consider myself as someone who is overly masculine, let alone as someone who acts as these '&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ladettes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;' do, (i.e. are loud, foul-mouthed, uncultured and unpleasant young women, who like to drink and smoke and who are often sexually promiscuous - according to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wikepedia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), I'm sorry to inform the ill-informed&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; there ain't no lady, or inner-Princess, for that matter, lurking behind this here Butch Daddy. And no matter how hard you'd try, you would never, ever be able to feminise me or get me to change my naughty Butch ways, thus making me into what is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;described&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; as... a real lady. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, perhaps I should rephrase that one. So, let's try again, shall we... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;You could never turn me into something that is seen as less threatening or challenging in relation to my masculinity, or into something that fits &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;snugly&lt;/span&gt; and neatly into what is expected of someone as a woman - especially regarding some of the notions on how someone should present themselves as a woman - commonly known as "societal standards", which, in my mind, can also be interpreted as that good old&lt;strong&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; "a woman who acts like or who &lt;em&gt;looks&lt;/em&gt; like a woman" sort of thing. You know? - we'll have none of that male lesbian sort of thing. Not that I am actually trying to be, or wanting to be a man, but you get the gist *wink*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Yep, think I'll just stick to my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;men's&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; shoes, suits, ties, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;cuff links&lt;/span&gt;, collar stays and french cuffs, thank you very much...&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[insert (non-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) Butch giggle here] *grins*&lt;insert&gt;&lt;insert&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-7189327836140338352?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/7189327836140338352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=7189327836140338352&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7189327836140338352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/7189327836140338352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/03/eggleston-hall-for-butches.html' title='Eggleston Hall: For Butches.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SbMvFJHcTmI/AAAAAAAAAKs/B0zuoXviiSI/s72-c/Mister..jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-2513320115211716043</id><published>2009-02-23T23:56:00.030+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:59:24.020+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tenderness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='caring'/><title type='text'>I don't know where that place is you speak of...</title><content type='html'>But just so you know,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be here when you get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-2513320115211716043?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/2513320115211716043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=2513320115211716043&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/2513320115211716043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/2513320115211716043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-know-where-you-are.html' title='I don&apos;t know where that place is you speak of...'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-1890535002097902015</id><published>2009-02-14T22:41:00.093+11:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T06:55:24.949+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pause'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conflict'/><title type='text'>Reflection.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SZavMwPoXGI/AAAAAAAAAJk/7DxfKJaWkg4/s1600-h/yin-yang.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 138px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 137px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302618244919090274" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SZavMwPoXGI/AAAAAAAAAJk/7DxfKJaWkg4/s200/yin-yang.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today whilst searching for answers I was drawn to a book on the book shelf in my study that I have had in my possession for many years now. In 1993, I was fortunate enough to come across a copy of 365 Tao, by Deng Ming-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Dao&lt;/span&gt;, in an out-of-the-way bookstore down in sunny Melbourne during one of my annual visits. To this day I can still remember the sense of awe I felt upon opening it, and also how captivated I was by its contents as I let them wash over me for the very first time. Until then I had never been exposed to the principles or the philosophy of Taoism. I wouldn't exactly say that after all of these years of turning to this book in times of need, that I am what you would call a 'devout' follower of Taoism. I mean, I try my best to live a spiritual life, but sometimes there's just so much chaos that goes on around us - and also within us - where we just get so damn caught up with everything and where everything seems to be moving so fast - that I sometimes find myself straying from the path... or forgetting that one even exists... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Which now begs me to ask - for various other reason also - at what point did I start losing sight of myself? Not so much "who am I"?, because I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; know who and what I am, but more in regards to what is right for me and what is not, and also that sense of inner peace which once seemed to be a constant companion of mine. Right now, I suspect that the cause of me questioning all of this is more than likely attributed to having so much conflict surrounding me by external forces (personal and other), which in my mind is not always a good thing. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;After all&lt;/span&gt;, there does come a point in our lives where we find ourselves in situations where we begin to think that enough is enough. And perhaps I am approaching that point sooner than I care to admit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I seem to find a strange sense of comfort in the knowing that every now and then we get a little reminder from the Universe, especially on days like this, where I sat at my desk and reached out for this book without intending to actually sit and read. It wasn't a conscious thought that led me to 365 Tao today, or to my study for that matter, but for some reason all that followed resonated deep within, and it was afterwards that I realised I obviously needed to hear what presented itself before me as I wearily opened up my book, turned to page 4, and began to read...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;REFLECTION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"&gt;Moon above water.&lt;br /&gt;Sit in solitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"&gt;If waters are placid, the moon will be mirrored perfectly. If we still ourselves, we can mirror the divine perfectly. But if we engage solely in the frenetic activities of our daily involvements, if we seek to impose our own schemes on the natural order, and if we allow ourselves to become absorbed in self-centered views, the surface of our waters becomes turbulent. Then we cannot be receptive to Tao. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"&gt;There is no effort that we can make to still ourselves. True stillness comes naturally from moments of solitude where we allow our minds to settle. Just as water seeks its own level, the mind will gravitate toward the holy. Muddy water will become clear if allowed to stand undisturbed, and so too will the mind become clear if it is allowed to be still. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"&gt;Neither the water nor the moon make any effort to achieve a reflection. In the same way, meditation will be natural and immediate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-1890535002097902015?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/1890535002097902015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=1890535002097902015&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/1890535002097902015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/1890535002097902015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/02/reflection_14.html' title='Reflection.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SZavMwPoXGI/AAAAAAAAAJk/7DxfKJaWkg4/s72-c/yin-yang.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-6007263711963450489</id><published>2009-02-02T12:49:00.073+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:58:58.797+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='satisfaction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the dead of night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disgust'/><title type='text'>A Foul Stench in the Dead of Night.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Honestly, what is it with some men who think that they can just whip it out and take a leak whenever or wherever they please?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I was woken by the sound of what I thought was running water somewhere in the front yard. It didn't take long for me to realise - no thanks to the smell of urine which was now wafting through my bedroom window, in what seemed to be a dry and humid 30-degree heat, which I tell you didn't help matters all that much - that is wasn't running water after all, but some dick who decided to take a pit stop, pull out his cock and piss all over the driveway. I thought to myself, you've got to be bloody kidding me? Of all places - not in the bushes, not behind a tree, not on the grass, but &lt;em&gt;on&lt;/em&gt; the driveway! All I could think - still being half asleep and all - was: 'what a dirty prick!'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Top in me then thought, I'll get this guy, you watch, and with that I stood at my window (in nothing but my trusty Y-fronts) and I quickly lifted up the blind and yelled out, &lt;em&gt;"Hey mate, you&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;reckon you could take your Cock and go piss somewhere else?" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was such a great moment as I stood there smirking and feeling rather pleased with myself. I felt this way because I saw how off-guard this guy was and how shocked he was that he had just been caught out. I could tell because of the way his silhouette jumped as he stood before the street light, and also because I could hear that he had now just pissed all over his foot, and all he could manage, as he fumbled while putting his cock back into his pants, was, "sorry mate!". What else could the poor fellow say? To be honest, I was half expecting to have some drunk hurling abuse back at me, or threatening to smash in my window, but no, luckily for me this guy was pretty passive. He casually got back in his car and drove off into the night. Leaving me with not only a sense of satisfaction as I climbed back into bed, but also with what was now only a faint and foul stench of urine wafting through my bedroom window.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-6007263711963450489?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/6007263711963450489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=6007263711963450489&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6007263711963450489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6007263711963450489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2009/02/foul-stench-in-dead-of-night.html' title='A Foul Stench in the Dead of Night.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-8036020506722583079</id><published>2008-11-29T10:04:00.087+11:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T12:10:54.965+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shelter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tenderness'/><title type='text'>Seven Days and One Week.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oUaFLUj7L10/TjSf622EVQI/AAAAAAAAAfs/-lxUW3Yx4yM/s1600/For%2BLo%2Bxxx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oUaFLUj7L10/TjSf622EVQI/AAAAAAAAAfs/-lxUW3Yx4yM/s200/For%2BLo%2Bxxx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635304867250853122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I tossed and turned for most of the night last night after taking myself to bed just after midnight, which is fairly late for me, even for a Friday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;You were in my thoughts, just as you have been for quite some time now, only lately it would appear to be a little more than usual, perhaps, even a little more than you should be. As I lay there I couldn't help but think about your question to me a couple of weeks ago, and even though all I could offer you at the time was a brief reply, as it was late and we were both very tired, I wanted to tell you this.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I just know,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and I will wait for you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;for as long it takes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I gave you my word once that I would be here for you, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;and if there is anything you know for certain about me by now, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;it is that I always stand by my word. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Even after all this time..&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am still here...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;am I not?&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;x&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-8036020506722583079?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/8036020506722583079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=8036020506722583079&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/8036020506722583079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/8036020506722583079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2008/11/seven-days-and-one-week_3323.html' title='Seven Days and One Week.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oUaFLUj7L10/TjSf622EVQI/AAAAAAAAAfs/-lxUW3Yx4yM/s72-c/For%2BLo%2Bxxx.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-6104469815304445045</id><published>2008-11-10T15:32:00.053+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:58:34.874+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='staying active'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time-out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body image'/><title type='text'>Hail Mary, Full of Grace.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266882499957014050" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SRe5uoOoviI/AAAAAAAAACY/YCMMHTNgrE8/s200/29092008(008).jpg" /&gt;Yesterday marked the eighth day without my laptop, no thanks to a break-down in communication somewhere in my Spy-bot directory. Anyway, after spending a ridiculous sum of money to have it all fixed up and cleaned out, it has finally been returned to its rightful owner...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;To think, it is actually possible to exist without the need for it in one's life. Who needs a fix of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cyberspace&lt;/span&gt; on a daily basis, when instead of wasting time procrastinating whilst sitting &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;in front&lt;/span&gt; of a flickering screen, one can be off doing something more productive - like spending more hours in the gym.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I must admit, however, that I have missed conversing with certain friends during this brief period of abstinence, but hey, what can I say? - "It did &lt;em&gt;wonders&lt;/em&gt; for my biceps!" *wink*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Amen!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-6104469815304445045?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/6104469815304445045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=6104469815304445045&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6104469815304445045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/6104469815304445045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-joy_10.html' title='Hail Mary, Full of Grace.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SRe5uoOoviI/AAAAAAAAACY/YCMMHTNgrE8/s72-c/29092008(008).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-2286182952187884013</id><published>2008-10-26T10:17:00.084+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:58:26.867+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='same-sex marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='same-sex rights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='equality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the right to choose'/><title type='text'>Same-Sex Rights.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SR4NaJISMNI/AAAAAAAAADI/N8o4_22kIek/s1600-h/rings2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 181px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 154px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268663356848484562" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SR4NaJISMNI/AAAAAAAAADI/N8o4_22kIek/s200/rings2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This weekend symbolised a very special time for two friends of mine. My Chiropractor, who I have known for just over 5 years now, married her girlfriend in a beautiful back-yard ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of months ago they both approached me during one of my weekly adjustments, and they asked me if I would like to photograph their day together. Needless to say, that I felt not only excited but also honoured to be asked to do so, and it was a real privilege to be able to share the day with them both, with their family, and with their closest friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up until recently, I never really gave much thought about the fact that members of the GLBT community (or however anyone else identifies under the different umbrella terms associated within this community) could not marry legally - well, at least not here in Australia, as the last time I checked, the Australian Federal/Commonwealth Government has put a ban on the recognition of all same-sex marriages at the national level - and I guess my way of thinking was due to the fact that for me personally, I've never really needed to have my relationships validated by a system (one that has been put into place and where throughout history, and even right up until this day) where my relationship is one that is viewed as one that needs to be approved by a State or by some &lt;strike&gt;bigoted&lt;/strike&gt; religious authority. Sorry, but I have trouble swallowing the part about it having to be "approved", especially by a Religious "authority". I mean, if they had their way, they'd still be burning the likes of me and my kind at the stake *&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (yes, I also spy a small hint of cynicism in my words ha ha - oh well, at least I can have a chuckle about it *wink*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, since being asked to photograph the wedding it got me thinking about my own life, and what it is that I want for myself and for my future partner. It got me thinking that it comes down to so many different things: it comes down to "equality" and it comes down to being granted and afforded the same "basic civil rights" as everyone else - regardless of sex and gender. And, it comes down to "principal" and the right to have a "choice", it comes down to being allowed to choose whether or not I want to marry the person who I love, and who I wish to spend the rest of my life with. Sure thing, I can sit here and go on about how I don't need the approval of some old-fashioned and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;antiquated&lt;/span&gt; institution... but, the crux of the matter for me at this stage, is that with this "approval" comes so many rights that I, and that so many of us do not have access to. With it comes so much that those who are automatically granted these rights (ofter referred to as "heterosexual privilege") will probably never have to give a second thought to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, we've all heard stories of peoples shared experiences, we hear so often of people in same-sex relationships being in situations, where, for example, one partner has been hospitalised and where the other partner has wanted to visit, but was not allowed to because their partnership was not recognised by law and was not deemed as one that is "legal", and where only &lt;em&gt;immediate&lt;/em&gt; family members are allowed to visit. We hear of situations where disgruntled family members who don't "approve" of the &lt;em&gt;type&lt;/em&gt; of relationship they share, or who have some personal disliking or grudge for the partner, and so they try and stop the partner of the ill person from seeing the partner who is ill. Jesus, can you even begin to fathom that or how that would make you feel? Imagine going to visit the one person who you love the most, and who is now in hospital (ill and/or maybe dying) and then being told by someone, "Sorry, but I am afraid you can't go in there, because you don't really have a place or a right being in there because you are &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; recognised as someone who is classed as 'immediate family' or 'next of kin'".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bugger that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, it goes on, because we also hear of situations where a decision may have to be made on behalf of the party who is ill in hospital, and/or where the partner of that person is not allowed to make the final decision (or even have a say) regarding what should/will be the outcome - even though these two people may have discussed in private during the course of their relationship what course of action they want their partner to take if ever a situation like this were to eventuate. We hear of stories where disgruntled family members come on in and take over, and they make executive decisions based on what &lt;em&gt;they&lt;/em&gt; want - whether it's to do with the outcome of the medical condition, or even on what happens in the course of death when it involves an Estate - and they make these decisions without any consideration or respect for the partner of the ill person, or of the wishes of the person who is ill (if it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;involves&lt;/span&gt; including the other partner) and nothing can be done to prevent it from happening, because same-sex marriage is not recognised as one that is legal here in Australia - or in most other counties and states - and in the end, we basically don't have a bloody legal leg to stand on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know that these are only some of the examples that can be made when it comes to the issue of same-sex rights and having our partnerships recognised legally, and, I also know that there are other pressing issues going on globally right now, such as; global warming; the tumbling economy; poverty; people starving in third-world countries; kids living on the streets; the war on drugs; the long struggle for democracy in military-ruled Burma, etc, etc, and believe me all of these issues are issues (along with many other issues) that I think of often, but at present, it is the issue of same-sex rights and same-sex recognition that weighs on my mind the most...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to know that if at some stage I enter into a relationship and I decide that I want to marry, that if I die, then my partner will be okay because she will be entitled to an inheritance, automatically. I want to know that she will be set up financially, and that no one can try and take that away from her. I want to know that she won't have to worry about anything or that she won't lose the house (if we have a house) because someone is daring to challenge her on property rights, or on anything else that we have worked so hard to create and establish together, as a "couple".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As someone who focuses on, and who takes great care and pride in creating and providing a safe and secure environment for the woman that I love, it is &lt;em&gt;imperative&lt;/em&gt; that I know that she will be okay if anything should happen to me; whether that's me becoming impaired in any way (mentally or physically) or once I have gone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, at the end of the day, I really don't think that it's too much to ask for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-2286182952187884013?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/2286182952187884013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=2286182952187884013&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/2286182952187884013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/2286182952187884013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2008/10/same-sex-rights.html' title='Same-Sex Rights.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SR4NaJISMNI/AAAAAAAAADI/N8o4_22kIek/s72-c/rings2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3427980236525698912.post-5126110447773854308</id><published>2008-10-20T09:49:00.064+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T06:58:17.877+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gas mask'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><title type='text'>Fetish.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SPu5l1aOo9I/AAAAAAAAABs/5-uHs80My20/s1600-h/Israeli+gas+mask.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259001049528574930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SPu5l1aOo9I/AAAAAAAAABs/5-uHs80My20/s400/Israeli+gas+mask.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I have been feeling a little uninspired lately, to be honest, it's been at least two months since I picked up my SLR's and spent some time out and about capturing whatever takes my fancy on any given day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After spending the early morning hours sitting here behind my laptop sifting through some of my earlier work in the hope of finding something that moves me; sitting here in the hope of finding something that just might help to reignite that spark, I came across this photo that I took of my favourite gas mask, which is part of a series of photographs that I worked on last year, which was based around the theme of "fetish" and my penchant for this particular style of gas mask (along with other favourable items) that I thought I would share. After all, this blog has been lingering here in cyberspace looking rather empty for just over a year now, and I figured that it was high time I got it up and running.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3427980236525698912-5126110447773854308?l=butchtop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/feeds/5126110447773854308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3427980236525698912&amp;postID=5126110447773854308&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/5126110447773854308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3427980236525698912/posts/default/5126110447773854308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butchtop.blogspot.com/2008/10/fetish_20.html' title='Fetish.'/><author><name>Mister!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00637170225492461325</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JxpQuBiJnCM/TwN0mVkQt2I/AAAAAAAAAhM/KwEt34cW9FY/s220/BERNIE%2BDEXTER%2BROCKABILLY%2BWAX%2BPOMADE%2BGREASE%2BLimited%2BEdition.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0h-SkK0ZENc/SPu5l1aOo9I/AAAAAAAAABs/5-uHs80My20/s72-c/Israeli+gas+mask.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
