<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/Monogamy"><title>Between Life's Beginning and End - Blogit</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/</link><description>Somewhere between the first and last day you breathe life happens.  I write it the way it happens.  At least I strive to.  The things that people actually say and do have the most meaning,  because people do not live in dreams or in fantasies.  I stay faithful to the truth in life and everyday occurences. </description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252690" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252676" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252394" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/251579" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250873" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250554" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250442" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250102" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/249856" /><rdf:li resource="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/249227" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252690"><title>Pennies On The Roof</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252690</link><description>Sincerely, I toe the line and drop pennies down because I don't like anyone in this city. Even if the urban myth isn't true I can pretend to see heads gushing and the population dropping like flies. I spit and piss off the top, through the glory holes in the fence I breathe hot victory and...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252676"><title>Fecal Matter</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252676</link><description>On the concept of waiting Daniel Chinnou says there is no such thing as wasting time but Chinnou is a car fanatic. He lounges at stop signs, and idles at red lights, and waits for people to cross. I've hit people, and sprinted through reds, only to blatantly ignore stop signs. I laugh baroquely...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252394"><title>Hmnn..</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/252394</link><description>I'll return tomorrow.</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/251579"><title>Those Gargantuan Thighs</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/251579</link><description>I won't write about nothing, so I'll write about something inconsequential. A pair of humungous thighs wrapped around me that make me wonder if you wonder whether I am a boy or a girl and whether or not that matters because large thighs lead to something larger. They lead to shame and something...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250873"><title>Felix Was A Painter</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250873</link><description>My love from Ecuador, from California, from a land where sugar mommas support the arts, you came to school all crying and what not, not knowing what to do with your drugs and your sketchbook full of pictures of a dead girl. You fell in love with every girl but me, and I felt bad for you, without...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250554"><title>I Remember Dan Fante</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250554</link><description>Lately I have been very into beat writers. Just the amount of horrible truth that they express. It makes me squirm in my seat, in an oh-so-delicious type of way. I've always said that cuss words and whores are not shock material if you have lived that life, or any life at all. This is also for a...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250442"><title>Charles H. Bukowski, Last American Hero</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250442</link><description>He really is my hero and everyone else's The last man who could speak his mind and still make sense. Pretty words were a no- no and plain speak was god. He called Whores whores and thieves thieves and that's what made me fall in love with a drunk and a poet. Last American hero and last man to...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250102"><title>The Answer Is Resounding</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/250102</link><description>In the peak hours yesterday I met a liar who was hard to follow and complicated like relationships but had wide eyes that made you want to believe in coincidences. For someone to speak so clearly through smoke is a mystery how he could hold a cigarette and laugh all at once without looking a fool...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/249856"><title>Cleareyed/  Bugeyed</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/249856</link><description>Clear-eyed, bug-eyed kids in the lot behind this house where construction is being held but is on intermission Sioux says she is starting a band, and she plays air guitar, does handstands so, that's her talent. Grey's uncle owns this house that's been abandoned where these dreamy kids landed to...</description></item><item rdf:about="http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/249227"><title>Homeless Nuts</title><link>http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Monogamy/249227</link><description>Mother brought me down to the main town where everything smells like nuts roasting in butter and sugar water. The streets were covered in heat waves and homeless people, dirt and the demons of sensory overload. Who would be so bold but to go upstairs where cool breezes were man made but they...</description></item></rdf:RDF>