<?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-16353320</id><updated>2012-02-01T04:08:09.751+11:00</updated><title type='text'>What a mind job.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-115521341989707753</id><published>2006-08-10T22:45:00.001+10:30</published><updated>2006-08-10T23:48:16.483+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Science of Tasty Doughnuts &amp; Addictive Coffee</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/chatswood_6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Food chains must think we are fucking stupid. Until this very moment, they have faked openness and wholesomeness, and have pulled it off well. Here, I present a number of big secrets. Some things you shouldn’t know. The elements that make Krispy Kreme and Starbucks taste so good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;1. Reused oil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Trans-fats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Refined sugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Unpronouncable additives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;5. Abused cow-teets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5. Trance-states&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;Krispy Kreme&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/200/d50_000874-edit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Delightful, aren’t they? People buy them by the box-load, don’t they? Snacks for manic-depressives, KK is guaranteed to make you shine - like some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;ball-less radioactive superhero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;. A nutrient profile any mother would be proud of, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;16g FAT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; with the deadly triad of month-old, reused canola (industrial grade), soybean, and palm oils heated with KKs special trans-fat frying machines that exceed the core temperature of Hell (4,203,544c). Also, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;42g of carbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; with the dicky duo of bleached white flour and hardkore sugar (glucose, sugar, high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup). Add industrial chemicals, like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Dispersing Agent 1520&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; – otherwised used in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:verdana;" &gt;radiator anti-freeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, cosmetics, hair products and deodorants. (The FDA linked this stuff to fatal heart attacks and suspect it is a neurotoxin).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And oh, what psychology. KK generates ‘grand opening’ hysteria with the eager support of generic cockroaches the world over. This is especially the case in KK-virgin countries (e.g., Australia), where duped non-thinking masses wait in a queue, outside, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;in the rain and wind, eagerly, for 2 hours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, only to eat such petroleum-based fried balls of shit by the boxload. BIGGER PICTURE: Sounds fairy floss and shit, but KK &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;“Encourage you to enjoy our doughnuts as a part of an active lifestyle that includes a balanced diet and exercise”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; Excuse me, fuck what? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Balanced diet?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; What happens when you eat a KK donut? Your diet is imbalanced for months, asshole. Also, never forget, the acne-ridden, flu-carrying emo teen handling your doughnuts doesn’t give a shit about you, and neither does KK or its executives. You’ll get fat, they rationalise, and become irritable, unhappy, snappy, impulsive, and only buy more doughnuts to keep your self-hatred moving. FINAL COMMENT: Steer clear from this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;carbo-loaded&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;fat-injected &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;drug-like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;chemical-laced&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; mega-dose of shit turning us into fat, no-necked, irritable short-fused unhappy maniacs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;CONCLUSION: Avoid spontaneous crying, severe depression, uncontrollable urges to swan-dive in front of moving trains, and complete loss of blood flow to the genitals: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Re-sell them for a huge profit to some dumb whore who hasn’t read this article. Then have anal sex with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;Starbucks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/200/b0044455_0245921.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mmm, coffee. So many Starbucks varieties. What do they all have in common? They source their milk from cows with m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;achine-molested teets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, then add &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;trans-fats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, sweeten the fuck out of it with machine-modified sugar to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;hypnotise &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;you into acceptance and oblivion, and THEN, they serve this asshole concoction of slime to you in a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Venti &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;size designer cup – 600ml of fucking mind-numbing sugar, heart-jumping caffeine, and blubber-inducing trans-fats to balloon you into unhappiness, crankiness, and suicidal tendencies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;BIGGER PICTURE: Never forget, the acne-ridden emo teen with the flu making your coffee doesn’t give a shit about you, and nor do the Starbucks executives. They rationalise, generic assholes like you think you’re &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place style="font-family: verdana;" st="on"&gt;Hollywood&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; material because you buy Venti-sized chemically-unstable coffee, and love to be seen drinking with your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;generic cockroach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; buddies. Either that, or you like the world to think you’re stressed, busy, or somehow more important than the fucking statistical rice-grain-sized &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;blip of insignificance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; that you really are. FINAL COMMENT: Steer clear of this seductively lethal-yet-socially-chic-and-glorified frappuccino-of-death that will turn you into a fat psychopath babbling about how busy and stressed you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CONCLUSION: Only buy it to splash all over the face of some generic cockroach who waits in line at KK.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-115521341989707753?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/115521341989707753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=115521341989707753' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/115521341989707753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/115521341989707753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2006/08/science-of-tasty-doughnuts-addictive_10.html' title='The Science of Tasty Doughnuts &amp; Addictive Coffee'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-115175335589022639</id><published>2006-07-01T21:01:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2007-04-02T13:51:08.166+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The 3 Golden Rules of Communication</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/conversation.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Remember, no one gives a fuck about you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may, at some stage, feel compelled to share intricate details of your life with other people. Sure, you rationalise, "I’m pretty important, I live an interesting life". Sure, you jest, people will be fixated on your words like a fat bitch loves mud cake. But, consider one fact, if you would: &lt;strong&gt;Your life is pathetic.&lt;/strong&gt; And, you are boring. No one wants to hear you speak, let alone digest random ramblings about your irrelevant existence and the particular way in which you perceive it. What you do, interests nobody beyond yourself. So, before you decide to tempt fate (and ask for an elbow to the face), spare the poor piece of shit you are conversing with. Unless such disclosure is solicited (see out clause below), &lt;strong&gt;simply shut the fuck up&lt;/strong&gt;. It really works, I promise. Now, how's that for a dose of reality, you &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;babbling fuck-stick&lt;/span&gt;? Good! Keep reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;OUT CLAUSE&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt; This rule need not be heeded if you are detailing: 1) how you won more than $1,000,000 in a lottery draw, and 2) how you plan on buying the listener a range of quality gifts, like a couple of &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Mont Blanc Starwalker pens&lt;/span&gt;). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SIDE NOTE:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Readers are now able to donate any number of Mont Blanc Starwalker pens (genuine only, please) to the author of this blog – the noble Yayo Banderas. In return, he will publicise your name, photograph, personal message, and then publicly honour you with a 500-word essay about how you rule his world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Don’t go visiting when you are sick&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen here, you germy, sniffily motherfucker. What balls you have, splashing your active snot into the faces of innocent people. You have one very brief out-clause:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;OUT CLAUSE:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; This rule is not applicable if your listener ‘friend’ is really a miserable fuckball. You know, that annoying motherfucker who repeatedly violates rule #1 above? Fuck them. Visit them, under the guise of honest, open friendliness. Smile, wave. Then breathe on that sorry piece of shit. (DISCLAIMER: This advice has not been evaluated by the FDA. Not intended for serious contagious illnesses, only the common cold. Jees, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;what the fuck were you thinking, you sadistic asshole?&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Don’t answer your mobile phone when talking to a real human&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear that, you &lt;strong&gt;pseudo-important ‘consultant’ hero&lt;/strong&gt;? Why does that annoying gimp who calls your mobile phone automatically attract more attention than the real human you are exchanging tangible words and values with? But there you are, staring off into space, duped into the illusion that you are some kind of movie star. Your voice is elevated, your posture is erect, your eyebrows are raised, and your breathing is shallow. Yes, that’s right. The hallmark characteristics of a &lt;strong&gt;bamboozled fag&lt;/strong&gt;. Yet, you think you’re special? Privileged? I jest not, little one. Reality-perception means valuing the real-life human you can see, touch, and feel. Pseudo-stardom means thinking you’re ‘the shit’ when someone rings your mobile phone. Now, respect yourself, turtle head. Don’t make a cock of yourself. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Turn that shit flip/twist/slide Nokia off. NOW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;OUTCLAUSE:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; The only two exceptions to this rule are calls from the state lottery consultant, and your mother. Don’t disrespect your mother. You got that, coconut-ass? Good, now fuck off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-115175335589022639?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/115175335589022639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=115175335589022639' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/115175335589022639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/115175335589022639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2006/07/3-golden-rules-of-communication.html' title='The 3 Golden Rules of Communication'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-112778172536771033</id><published>2005-09-27T09:55:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2005-09-27T15:41:32.520+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Science of Good Chocolate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/chocseks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/chocseks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chocolate manufacturers must think we are fucking stupid. They think we don’t know what constitutes good chocolate. Well, not any more. Here, I present a secret. A big fucking secret. Something you shouldn’t know. The three elements that make chocolate good.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;1. Cocoa to sugar ratio&lt;br /&gt;2. Quality of ingredients used&lt;br /&gt;3. Absence of colourings and chemicals&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Collectively, these factors dictate how chocolate tastes, feels in your mouth, and makes you feel afterwards. Research you may have heard promising that 'chocolate can be beneficial for your health' needs to be clarified. When that story broke out, fat women everywhere started eating chocolate by the trolley-load, feeling liberated in their menstruation-induced chocolate-fury. But, fuck no. That shit is incorrect and out of context. It’s really the COCOA in chocolate that has any healthful effects. The COCOA contains &lt;strong&gt;flavonol’s&lt;/strong&gt;, which are the mystical &lt;strong&gt;phytonutrients&lt;/strong&gt; that prevent oxidation, stimulate your immune system, and fight cancer. So, let’s look at the top 3 and worst 3 chocolates you can eat, based on these criteria. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WORST 3 Chocolates ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/hersheys2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Hershey’s.&lt;/strong&gt; Nasty chocolate that traditionally has some form of peanut in it, which is invariably sourced from the &lt;strong&gt;pits of Kazakhstan&lt;/strong&gt;. Their chocolate is also packed with&lt;strong&gt; stabilisers&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;pesticides&lt;/strong&gt;, not to mention colourings. The taste is bland and overly sweet (36%), and they add fuck all cocoa (around 18%). &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Eat one square a year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/2mms1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. M&amp;amp;Ms. &lt;/strong&gt;Cheap chocolate intelligently enclosed in a sugar-shell full of vibrant colourings and pesticides that &lt;strong&gt;will make your testicles shrink, breasts sag, and your emotions messy&lt;/strong&gt;. These traditionally contain more sugar (68%) than cocoa (17%). The ingredients are also super-refined and &lt;strong&gt;trans-fatty&lt;/strong&gt;. Their consistency is a blend between crunchy and sticky, and the crunchy bits tend to stick to your teeth and dislodge in your esophageus, causing &lt;strong&gt;internal bleeding&lt;/strong&gt;. Inappropriately sweet. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Steer clear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/1cadbury.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Cadbury. &lt;/strong&gt;Cheap chocolate modelled on the worlds best plastic. Enough chemicals, additives, and colourings to cause your intestines to quiver in a rage of constipation, and possibly make you &lt;strong&gt;severely depressed&lt;/strong&gt;. This chocolate has more sugar (73%) than cocoa (14%). It is made from super-refined ingredients which can only be handled &lt;strong&gt;bald men in white lab coats&lt;/strong&gt;. The consistency is more like cooking chocolate, and tends to invade and stick to the teeth. Inappropriately sweet. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Throw away, or give away as a present to some dumb whore who hasn’t read this article&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BEST 3 Chocolates ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/guylian2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Guylian Seashells.&lt;/strong&gt; Oh baby. High-end chocolate, made with relatively fine ingredients that are sourced from the &lt;strong&gt;Mediterranean&lt;/strong&gt;. The hazelnuts are &lt;strong&gt;slow-roasted&lt;/strong&gt;, and the chocolate is made with &lt;strong&gt;Belgian milk&lt;/strong&gt;. The cocoa comes from real cocoa beans sourced from West Africa – the only place it should come from. Traditionally, has a high cocoa content (40%+), no pesticides, and a perfect blend of sweetness (25%) and chocolate to the palate. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Fucking delicious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/lindt702.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Lindt 70% Cocoa. &lt;/strong&gt;Almost perfect. Has very little sugar (10%) and a 70% cocoa. This is &lt;strong&gt;REAL chocolate, motherfucker&lt;/strong&gt;. Very few ingredients, but what they use are exceptional in quality, sourced from &lt;strong&gt;eastern Europe and west Africa&lt;/strong&gt;. Absolutely no pesticides, colourings or chemicals. Texture is superb, &lt;strong&gt;velvety and intense&lt;/strong&gt;. 70% west African cocoa gives you &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;the flavonol’s you need to succeed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/lindt852.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Lindt 85% Cocoa.&lt;/strong&gt; Bam. Perfect. Put simply, the best fucking chocolate available on the planet. Only try this if you are as hardcore as me, and are prepared to cope with an &lt;strong&gt;energy boost, booming erection, constant smile, white teeth, and fuckloads of dopamine&lt;/strong&gt;. So little sugar (8%), so much cocoa (85%), no colourings, no pesticides, pure ingredients. Texture is velvety and very intense and dark. This is the chocolate of all chocolates, motherfucker. Eat,&lt;strong&gt; and you will get laid, win a million dollars, and be famous&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are you waiting for, you generic asshole?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-112778172536771033?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/112778172536771033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=112778172536771033' title='84 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112778172536771033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112778172536771033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2005/09/science-of-good-chocolate.html' title='The Science of Good Chocolate'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>84</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-112777664788701032</id><published>2005-09-27T09:44:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2005-09-27T09:47:27.893+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Who the fuck are you, cockroach?</title><content type='html'>Leave me a comment, and tell me who the fuck you are, cockroach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do it, generic asshole. Leave a comment. Or I will steal your numberplates and drive past your local police station at 280km/h, or 174 mph if you are stupid enough to live in a country that uses mph. Fucker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-112777664788701032?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/112777664788701032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=112777664788701032' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112777664788701032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112777664788701032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2005/09/who-fuck-are-you-cockroach.html' title='Who the fuck are you, cockroach?'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-112773681454059530</id><published>2005-09-26T22:43:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2005-09-26T22:51:22.066+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Pseudo-intellectual kernal head</title><content type='html'>What, are you fucking stupid?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generic asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll fucking king hit you with a microphone stand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-112773681454059530?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/112773681454059530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=112773681454059530' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112773681454059530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112773681454059530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2005/09/pseudo-intellectual-kernal-head.html' title='Pseudo-intellectual kernal head'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-112644509634200219</id><published>2005-09-11T23:51:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2005-09-11T23:57:45.326+10:30</updated><title type='text'>4WD owners need to be bashed</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/typical.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/typical.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You know, 4WD vehicles are increasingly popular today. But, there are only two types people who own them: 1) those who live in the crevices of a mountain made of stone, dirt, gravel and manure, and 2) those who live in suburbia on perfectly normal, sealed roads.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;So, let’s examine the second group more closely. Yes, the sad, insecure cohort of life-rejects who drive big 4WDs in regular suburbs and cities. Here is a consideration of the statistics:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/IQ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/IQ.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it looks like inner-city 4WD drivers do need to be run off the road and into concrete pylons. Either that, or bashed with high-quality steering wheel locks. They will always remain insecure, intellectually touched assholes that continue to plough through the suburban roads thinking they dominate other traffic, and everything that moves. Yep, who’d a thought buying a 4WD could turn a softcock jerkoff into a real man. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-112644509634200219?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/112644509634200219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=112644509634200219' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112644509634200219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112644509634200219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2005/09/4wd-owners-need-to-be-bashed.html' title='4WD owners need to be bashed'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-112608507588041679</id><published>2005-09-07T19:48:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2005-09-07T23:31:51.493+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Crazy frog – New age drug dealer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/frog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/frog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Would it surprise you that the crazy frog concept has raked in over $24 million dollars since it began? Absolutely not! Look at the market the creators are exploiting! &lt;strong&gt;Teenie dumbfucks&lt;/strong&gt; … to drill down this demographic more specifically, I suspect they are predominantly female virgins under 15 years of age who own colourful mobile phones. Don’t forget, they have rich parents who will buy these fuckin’ brats anything they whine for.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/dingding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/dingding.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, these fucksticks will consume anything! Anything that is perceived as ‘cool’. They go through stupid phases like wearing &lt;strong&gt;g-strings&lt;/strong&gt; at age 13, getting a &lt;strong&gt;tattoo on their ass crack&lt;/strong&gt;, and wearing ¾ length bike pants. Now they suck up every fuckin’ variation of the original “ding ding” ringtone – which, incidentally, was recorded on a shit microphone by some European heap of shit who decided to imitate a scooter. Now if this doesn’t give you some insight into the intelligence of the creator of the crazy frog, I really don’t know what does. I can see it now! Euro trash creator of crazy frog gets a phone call, “&lt;strong&gt;heyy, let’s go out man, big party tonight, pussy everywhere”…&lt;/strong&gt; to which he replies “&lt;strong&gt;nooo man, I’m real busy here, I’m imitating a scooter and recording it on my shitty computer! ding ding!”&lt;/strong&gt;. You get the idea, what a fucking jerkoff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, this shit is more profitable than drugs or a hardcore mafia business combined. It will soon be worth &lt;strong&gt;$100 million&lt;/strong&gt;. Where else could you make profits like this, with so little effort, and do it legally? This mobile phone craze has to come to an end. Perhaps when these stupid little fucks &lt;strong&gt;learn the art of piracy&lt;/strong&gt;, and learn how to use Bluetooth/wireless/data cables to transfer their own shit and ditch the scamming companies that charge them $5 per gay ringtone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-112608507588041679?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/112608507588041679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=112608507588041679' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112608507588041679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112608507588041679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2005/09/crazy-frog-new-age-drug-dealer.html' title='Crazy frog – New age drug dealer'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-112600689889909791</id><published>2005-09-06T22:02:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2005-09-06T22:16:24.846+10:30</updated><title type='text'>I hate Kirstie Alley</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/kirstey1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/kirstey1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a fat, sweaty, worthless drug-fucked whore she is. She appears on my TV screen every lunchtime and dinner, screaming out “&lt;strong&gt;fat chick” mantra’s&lt;/strong&gt; while bouncing on a trampoline. She harasses the viewer like a true nutjob with her trademark™ &lt;strong&gt;cocaine-induced&lt;/strong&gt; husky voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She raves on about how Jenny Craig allows her to eat&lt;strong&gt; “chocolate cake!&lt;/strong&gt;” and&lt;strong&gt; “fettuccini!”.&lt;/strong&gt; Perhaps that’s the reason why she’s still a&lt;strong&gt; fat fuck&lt;/strong&gt;. There is no doubt she is the mascot for all fat whores the world over, who must feel a jolt of liberation to see a fat woman on TV finally making waves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, this bitch openly admitted to using cocaine in the 70’s to ‘shed pounds’. It induced hardcore psychosis and paranoia. &lt;strong&gt;No shit&lt;/strong&gt;. Watch her on the Jenny Craig ad’s. She appears to have no greater cognitive functioning than our friend Gilbert Grape - however, to her credit, she may actually be a pretty fuckin’ good actor (anyone in Hollywood looking to cast a psychiatric patient please contact Kirstie Alley's booking agent).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: One of Kirstie’s quotes from the 70’s you won’t see on the Jenny Craig website - &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"One great way to lose weight is to become a hopeless drug addict. I've tried it and it really does work”.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Well done Kirstie, you have cemented yourself as the most miserable fat druggie dropkick to have struck a deal with yet another scientifically-warped multinational weight loss company.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-112600689889909791?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/112600689889909791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=112600689889909791' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112600689889909791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112600689889909791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-hate-kirstie-alley.html' title='I hate Kirstie Alley'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16353320.post-112598507284721694</id><published>2005-09-06T15:57:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2005-09-06T18:38:01.606+10:30</updated><title type='text'>How to beat fuel prices</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Roof method&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/oncar%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/oncar%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Class: 7, Skill required,: 9, Risk assessment: 9.8, Impression: 10.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIRECTIONS: Pounce on the roof of a passing car. Secure your &lt;strong&gt;propeller hat&lt;/strong&gt;, set it to “fly”. Gain enough momentum before the asshole driving the car gets caught at a red light. Leap into the air before the car loses momentum. You should find yourself gaining altitude rapidly, indicating your propeller hat is fully functional. Steer yourself with skyward head movements. Hover directly above your designated location, remove hat. You may find yourself plummeting at a speed of 2800ft/sec. This is normal. You may report a loss of vision and/or consciousness. This is also normal. You may want to ignore pre-recorded pleas from the hat to &lt;strong&gt;“pull up, pull up”.&lt;/strong&gt; Perfect for making a grand entrance, and impressing that girl you want to fuck in the ass. Just don’t die doing it, idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Refried Beans method:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/refriedbeans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/refriedbeans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Class: 5, Skill required,: 3, Risk assessment: 4.5, Impression: 7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIRECTIONS: Eat several cans of Refried Beans. Wait for gastic pressure to rise to approx. 400psi/kg. Seat yourself in an &lt;strong&gt;assless chair&lt;/strong&gt;. Take the helm, and fart until you feel the earth, move, under your feet. Soar, up and above, baby. Soar high, and take your chair to the highest of heights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/world.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/world.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;You may run out of gas needed for your journey. This is normal. Simply steer over Europe, and inhale recycled diesel fuel. If this fails to reignite your gastric flatus, proceed to emergency landing procedure: Land in Afghanistan while screaming out “&lt;strong&gt;Allah is great&lt;/strong&gt;”. Several men in white sheets will break your fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rickshaw method &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/1600/rickshaw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/164/1549/320/rickshaw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Class: 10, Skill required,: 0, Risk assessment: 1, Impression: 10.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIRECTIONS: Eat at various fast food chains until you are &lt;strong&gt;400lbs&lt;/strong&gt;. Hire a Rickshaw for 8 cents a day. Bounce your fat ass around in an attempt to make the famished driver go insane. Realise, however, that they have been trained to cart around fat, lazy, over-liberated western fucks like you, and will not be phased by any 'whiteguy' stunts you may pull. You may eat &lt;strong&gt;gourmet meals&lt;/strong&gt; while riding in the Rickshaw, however, under no circumstances should you share any portion of your meal with the famished negro that is carting you around town. That would be unethical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16353320-112598507284721694?l=yayobanderas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/feeds/112598507284721694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16353320&amp;postID=112598507284721694' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112598507284721694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16353320/posts/default/112598507284721694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yayobanderas.blogspot.com/2005/09/how-to-beat-fuel-prices.html' title='How to beat fuel prices'/><author><name>Yayo Banderas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13103369238324840046</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/102/7783/640/stortobello%20copy2a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
