<?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-16885349</id><updated>2011-04-22T05:45:19.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Secret Hiding Place</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-114518593983646970</id><published>2006-04-16T19:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T19:15:00.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To: Cute Little Girl   From: Prawn</title><content type='html'>Some time ago, I was known as a prawn,&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am accidentally again the love’s pawn.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t know how it started,&lt;br /&gt;Just hoping the process will be splendid.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t know what are her feeling,&lt;br /&gt;Leaving me to do some guessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about that Good Friday,&lt;br /&gt;I just have so much to say.&lt;br /&gt;Absence makes the heart fonder,&lt;br /&gt;Seeing her makes my face redder.&lt;br /&gt;Upon seeing me, she sticks out her tongue,&lt;br /&gt;In a jest, I shot back mine.&lt;br /&gt;These small little actions,&lt;br /&gt;Summarize the feeling of not meeting up for ages.&lt;br /&gt;By the bay of the seas of Manhattan,&lt;br /&gt;We feast upon fish dishes on pan.&lt;br /&gt;The old Cathy contained fond memories,&lt;br /&gt;Of those couples in the Seventies.&lt;br /&gt;A hilarious movie of Ice Age Two,&lt;br /&gt;Make us laugh out too.&lt;br /&gt;Noticing she was shivering like a cat,&lt;br /&gt;I reprimanded myself for not bringing a jacket.&lt;br /&gt;A night was to end like that,&lt;br /&gt;Where we bade farewell and left.&lt;br /&gt;Reminiscing the beautiful sight of her,&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking happily ever after…&lt;br /&gt;All these might just be a wishful thinking of mine,&lt;br /&gt;But I will try to make it a reality in time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4201/1528/320/prawnjoytruck2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-114518593983646970?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/114518593983646970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=114518593983646970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/114518593983646970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/114518593983646970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2006/04/to-cute-little-girl-from-prawn.html' title='To: Cute Little Girl   From: Prawn'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112823898547334492</id><published>2005-10-02T15:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T15:43:08.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A run.</title><content type='html'>I saw you holding onto a bunch of roses, &lt;br/&gt;Standing by the corner striking a pose.&lt;br/&gt;I tried to capture down your charming moment, &lt;br/&gt;But you took off in an instant.&lt;br/&gt;Leaving behind the roses,&lt;br/&gt;That I picked for you from the bushes.&lt;br/&gt;I chased after you down the pebble path,&lt;br/&gt;And you continued to sprint south.&lt;br/&gt;Hearing your fainting and far laughter, &lt;br/&gt;With all my strength I muster.&lt;br/&gt;Finally under a tree palm,&lt;br/&gt;I caught you in my arms.&lt;br/&gt;Looking into your eyes deeply, &lt;br/&gt;I found that you look so lovely.&lt;br/&gt;Suddenly you disappeared in front of me,&lt;br/&gt;Cause all these were just a dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112823898547334492?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112823898547334492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112823898547334492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112823898547334492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112823898547334492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/10/run.html' title='A run.'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112730973556485798</id><published>2005-09-21T21:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T21:35:35.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear B...</title><content type='html'>I would rather talk more about the next girl, B!&lt;br/&gt;This special girl is smart, talented, cute, pretty, and lovable. Her smiles are so enticing that I think I was mesmerized by her when my eyes first set upon her. I’ve known her in the starting of this year, and we were part of a group of an overseas trip by our school to Maldives to help with the rebuilding of an island that was damaged during the Dec 26 tsunami. So I think we got to know each other during the trip. I had a great time doing work there and enjoying the company of so many wonderful people, especially her. I still clearly remembered the times when we were playing with hermit crabs. She looks like an angel when playing with them. &lt;br/&gt;Even though we may not be the best friends, we may not be an item, but the fact that we are still friends, still keeping in touch, and the group of Maldives people, my life is dearly touched and sort of completed.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Ich werde dich immer lieben…&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;My feelings for you will be there, keeping them in my heart, waiting for you to open.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112730973556485798?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112730973556485798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112730973556485798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112730973556485798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112730973556485798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/dear-b.html' title='Dear B...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112730880949359894</id><published>2005-09-21T21:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T21:20:09.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of Y</title><content type='html'>Well, I’m back! Throughout my four secondary years, I must have taken liking to some girls. There was this one significant girl name Y. actually the whole episode with her was a little screwed. Screwed? Screwed in a sense that it all started wrongly. I don’t know why it even started in the first place. I’m not sure about my feelings at that point and I guessed we plunged into it, without the build-up process. Foundation is weak, so the whole thing collapsed. I think it’s my entire fault, let her down. But it’s better to end something that will not last. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I’m sorry to you Y…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112730880949359894?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112730880949359894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112730880949359894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112730880949359894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112730880949359894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/story-of-y.html' title='Story of Y'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112722652859804288</id><published>2005-09-20T22:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T22:28:48.613+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl of my life part 1</title><content type='html'>Other than my mother, there are other girls who are special to me up till now in my life. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I remembered when I was in primary school; I got to know this girl named J. we were in the same class from primary 2 to primary 5, in the second best class. During the years, I’ve known her pretty well, did some projects together and we had this group of common friends. &lt;br/&gt;I can still vaguely recall that dearly episode. It was a morning and we arrived school early for some remedial. Then I guess our friends were bored and we played a game in the canteen. I was supposed to kiss her. Back then, I think we were primary 4, know nothing about birds and bees, only what we saw on television. So our friends placed a paper between, and act as though we were doing it. (apparently after that, the friend who held that piece of paper, withdrew it at the last minute, and I might have kissed her cheeks)&lt;br/&gt;So after pri 5, I did well and was promoted to the best class. That last day of school, she cried. Is it for me? I don’t know, but I know I’m sorry…&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I think we kind of drifted away, and after primary school, we lost contact. It was only till secondary four that I tried to contact her again. With the help of SK, got her contacts and I invited her to watch a movie on that fateful Mid-autumn Day 2 years back. The movie we watched was “turn left, turn right”. Sadly, the movie depicts our ending, 2 days after the movie; she said she had a boyfriend. I was a little devastated, as I think I put in a little effort only. So after that, our live lines are back to parallel, never to intersect again…&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;2 more episodes to go… watch out for the story of Y and B!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112722652859804288?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112722652859804288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112722652859804288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112722652859804288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112722652859804288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/girl-of-my-life-part-1.html' title='Girl of my life part 1'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112711321088198397</id><published>2005-09-19T14:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:00:10.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HI</title><content type='html'>this is where i hid myself, this is where, i write my deepest feelings down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112711321088198397?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112711321088198397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112711321088198397' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112711321088198397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112711321088198397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/hi.html' title='HI'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112877558854019973</id><published>2005-09-12T22:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T20:46:59.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have to admit you are better at your words. You express yourself better. I’m a little jealous, because you have been getting quite a lot of attention. Now, I’m asking myself, why have I been targeting you? Why are like most of these entries pointing towards you, with a parang waving like what Christine used to said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I must stop all these. Clear my sinister mindset, accept the goodness of all! I shall try, but it’s hard to eliminate within a day or what. I think I’ve been giving little more cold shoulders to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part is to the girl I admire. Actually I’m not sure what my feelings towards her are. I yearn for her concern, but she sometimes blew hot and cold on me. I yearn to see her everyday, but it all depends on luck. I certainly hope to be good friend with you, sometimes secretly hoping more than that. But as someone said, if the feelings are not there, friends only remain as friends. If there are sparkles, the spark would have ignited long ago. actually, i'm veri satisfied and happy with the present situation where we meet up occassionally and sharing concerns for one another, i shld be content with what i have!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of the sad things, I shall try to be more jolly, spread the happiness to all.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone’s having exams so quite stressed.&lt;br /&gt;Lucks to all including myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*you will always be on my mind*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112877558854019973?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112877558854019973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112877558854019973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877558854019973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877558854019973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-have-to-admit-you-are-better-at-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112877545162895667</id><published>2005-09-09T21:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T20:44:11.630+08:00</updated><title type='text'>more fake...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;u seems to be think too much abt one thing, readin ur blog seems to be over-staturated with the same issue... gettin a little sick of it... i mean it's alright to to remininsce abt it, sometimes tink abt it, BUT every blog entries mentioning abt it, dun u tink it's a little over! *yawns* no "freshness" in reading ur blog anymore... disappointed..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;it's great to think abt friends!! abt the memories!!ur blog is now like more of something that attracts attention from us, n not representing ur feelings....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i prefer the "unknown" blog, it's more u.... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112877545162895667?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112877545162895667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112877545162895667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877545162895667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877545162895667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/more-fake.html' title='more fake...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112877540042655586</id><published>2005-09-05T23:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T20:43:20.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fake</title><content type='html'>A lot of things in this world are just illusion. euphoria, melancholy, desperation, stress are just examples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i felt that i'm being a little fake towards him. i have my restraints when we are together. it's not like the case when i'm with others, i let myself go and show them my true self. maybe it's just to him. maybe because he too is being fake. you don't have to mention every day that you miss them and them. n i mean EVERDAY. i mean, yar, concerns for friends, too much is a little scary?you just think a lot, and sometimes i think is pressurising for others.&lt;br /&gt;i started thinking abbreviation for her, doesn't mean you also have to copy me right?&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm just being too sensitive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think it's bad to have so many of our friends common. that's a lot of common things, and a lot of comparisons to be made. i want to eliminate that. somehow, i think our friendship will not progress and it's not strong, even right from the start. i guess i'm the one not putting in effort, cause i'm wary, cause maybe our characters are not that suited. my friends in secondary school are great, no reservation. teases, insults, praises u mean it, we got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think it all boils down to the common point. we have too many common friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;u know what, i shld stop despising you and look at your good points. i just suck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112877540042655586?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112877540042655586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112877540042655586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877540042655586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877540042655586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/fake.html' title='fake'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16885349.post-112877528782279039</id><published>2005-09-04T16:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T20:41:27.826+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadows...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I don't wish to be associated to him all the time. we are not even the best of friends from the start. i think we just have different views and opinions.maybe at times i want to try to be him, but i restrained myself, i know the true me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;more and more, he's trying to be like me, not that i don't like, it just feels weird.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;maybe he's better at expressing himself, so he does it better. i dun deny the fact he's a great friend, but he's like a shadow of mine, which i can't dispose of.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i asked myself whether i want to detract from my current behaviour, but that will cause me not to be myself. so i shall continue to be like that, treating all my friends the same, being the happy me will bring happiness to them, not like someone who influence others with his pessimistic attitude... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16885349-112877528782279039?l=yeeda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/feeds/112877528782279039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16885349&amp;postID=112877528782279039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877528782279039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16885349/posts/default/112877528782279039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yeeda.blogspot.com/2005/09/shadows.html' title='Shadows...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05625920020275271572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
