<?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-5636040</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:24:41.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nathan Jones: The Legend</title><subtitle type='html'>A Blog where even the purest of Minds can be tainted by the story of Sir Nathan Jones</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-107134202016579425</id><published>2003-12-13T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-13T11:01:08.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This was going to be chapter four until I realized it was more of a followup on chapter three. So, here it is, chapter 3.5! (finally...an update!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This portion of the chapter is devoted to descriptions:&lt;br /&gt;8th grade was more of the same. Teachers were great this time round, with such famous greats as: Mrs. Rand, who taught me the loving embrace of censorship- and how big an impact it can make on a wonderful film. Really…We made a dinosaur movie, and while on a break, we watched some weird ass TV show in which a male lead character spoke to a female leas character, and in some spur-of-the-moment type situation, I decided open my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’s gonna get laid.” I spat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, the wonderful level of maturity that is the eighth grade. Ah well. What doesn’t kill you makes you want to do something even more ridiculously stupid. Another great teacher was Mrs. Correl. She was my new History teacher, and she turned out to be someone I could really cope with. I turned in last minute assignments, and she loved them to no end, often rushing to show others or use mine as a bench mark in which to degrade other students. Granted, they were last minute assignments I worked really hard on, but they were last minute just the same. I loved this sweet old lady. She gave me stuff. Also, when we played a game of “congress…or something…” I got some rebellious role, and I rebelled like a motherfucker. I rebelled so much; she threw my Colonial ass out of the House of Burgesses. I came back to the sound of my fellow Colonial soldiers, all cheering my name and tossing their hats in festive “hurrah”. Oh yea, I’m a pimp Liberal, bitch. Then there was Mrs. Riebe. She was there. Then came Mr. Roden, who was the kindergarten teacher of the eighth grade.&lt;br /&gt;“No, no, big, fat, hairy ones. They’re baaaaad. Don’t take candy from them, because they’ll fucking kill you! Ok, all they do is reduce any number to one, but they can still pull a knife on your ass.”&lt;br /&gt;	And that was eighth grade. Fun stuff. Good times. Oh, I should probably introduce the Gamers Elite, who have since disbanded. Why? Because they appear in many places later on, either to help me on my quest, or to become an obstacle in it.&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;br /&gt;	Josh: egotistical? Yes. Fluent in common sense? No.&lt;br /&gt;Josh is that kinda guy who…knows what he wants, gets his parents to buy it for him, and then rubs it in your face. Seriously, if I had to name a leader of this group, it’d be him. He’s nice…when he wishes to be, and back in these days, he would “b3 g104ting 4b0u+ h1z l33t g4m1ng skillz” (l33t speak* translation: gloat of his above average abilities in the gaming world.) Josh was an old school kind of guy, and though he was what I call a “main stream gamer”, he still found his favorite games within his old Super Nintendo.  Now a days, Josh finds great pleasure in walking in front of moving vehicles, flipping them off, and then laughing about it. Seriously, he’s cool to hang out with, but I wouldn’t want to take a walk with him. I’m not stopping for his ass….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	Tai: been described, so fuck that…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	Ryan: Most likely the most sane/peace keeper.&lt;br /&gt;Back in the day, this kid was…eh…kinda dorky. Like me. He wore nothing but Dragon Ball Z tee-shirts (hey, Josh still does that! J/k*…not all the time…) . He used to be head game master of souls and transvestite dwarfs and goblins in a game called “Dungeons and Dragons”. Supposedly, nerds flock to this game, something about an aura caressing it, causing any nerd with in the area to become a dumb ass and play this game on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. Go ahead. Roll the dice. See how many pieces of toilet paper it takes to slay the demon in the cave. Go on. It’s “fun”.&lt;br /&gt;Now a days, Ryan spends most of his time with his girl friend, Natalie, who’s as big a band dork as he is. They’re both awesome though, so more power to them. Except for when she kicks me, because I usually end up with a bruise. That little holy woman bitch….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	Keith:&lt;br /&gt;	Dork to jock. Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	Kyle: He was way the fuck out of there when eighth grade let out. He transformed from Uber geek to Super Punk. His transformation was so smooth, yet so sudden. I watched as the shirt on his back went from reading “Kuji Yamakasakakujikukudjin” to “Kill stuff and eat things: Some Rock Band, The Fuck You Tour.” It was odd, but predicted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	That pretty much covers the gamers elite. Let’s play some Tetris motherfucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other people that existed then will be described as they come, but come on people, all the chapters so far have been descriptive, so shut up and eat your pie.&lt;br /&gt;	This year was special to me for another reason, and I will now explain why as I divert myself from what I was going to write this chapter about. This year revealed itself as a seed, my seed, in the sarcastic soil of the Powell Family. When I first met Mason over Pokemen cards, I had no idea that in a couple years time I would be sporadically entering their home, even at times where I was un-welcomed. So, without further adieu, I will now Describe (some more) the Powell family in order of importance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	Chipper is one of those: I don’t care, so get away from me and warship me from a distance kind of cats. Seriously, this cat owns my soul. Yours too, your just don’t know it yet.&lt;br /&gt;	Jamie was one of those dogs that didn’t like people. I mean, he was one of those dogs who just…liked to bite you. On more than one occasion, I found myself ending one of our many conversations with:&lt;br /&gt;	“There’s a good boy, now go lay down an..holy shit, that hurt. You fucking prick! Cindy, your stupid dog bit me”&lt;br /&gt;	“You had it coming, retard.” Mason would chuckle.&lt;br /&gt;	“I’m going to bite you back you son of a bitch!” (haha, get the pun?…never mind…)&lt;br /&gt;	Yeah, five years have passed, and to this day Jamie still barks randomly at me until I shove my hand in his face. Then he recognizes the stench.&lt;br /&gt;	Cindy is the mother figure for the family. I think. She acts more like a bigger sister sometimes, one who gets a lot of migraines and starts using her Texan heritage to call us names we’ve only heard from sailors and prisoners. Not joking, one of these days, if someone starts causing shit one day, and she’s around, I’m just going to hit her with something heavy, and then turn her towards the little bastard. That’ll teach him.&lt;br /&gt;	Cindy is usually pretty lax. One day, when we me and Mason we’re dragging this guy we hit with her car across the carpet to bury in the back yard, she only made us scrub the really stained parts of the rug. The only thing she’s ever really gotten mad about is when this huge tree used its magnetic powers and summonsed her car, which was in park (she told us so herself) and beat it senselessly. That stupid magnetic tree cost Cindy…some sort of large sum of money. She was pretty freakin pissed. Somehow it was my fault too. It always is.&lt;br /&gt;	Next is Garth. Garth is Garth. I’m pretty sure he’s killed people. Shhhh. Don’t talk. He’s fixing something…&lt;br /&gt;	And because every family needs a failure, there’s Laura. In all fairness, Laura gets better grades than Mason and she applies herself to everything she does, and she’s not too bad, considering most little sisters are…gay and stuff. We just give her endless amounts of hassling because, lets face it, that’s what little sisters are made for. Harassing. Better than any stress ball…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	That all being said, you now know my secondary family units. I guess it’s not really fair to my real family that I haven’t described them in great detail, but until a time comes where they’re completely necessary to my story, screw it. I’m tired of describing people. &lt;br /&gt;	And so, time continued to pass, and Laura wrote something, Something baaaaaad. She called Matthew a dirty name. Baaaaad.&lt;br /&gt;	Stupid mother fucker. She called him a stupid motherfucker. Oops. I’m getting repetitive now. I’m getting repetitive now. Now, I’ve, on more than one occasion, called Matt the same thing. BUT, I’ve never, ever turned in an insult to my science teacher. Wanna know who did? Laura! She was so smart about it- because that teacher knew Matt’s teacher/mother/person who buys me stuff. Yea. Laura is dumb like that. &lt;br /&gt;	Well, Eighth grade was…fantastic? Yea, that’s the word for it. A lot of the same. Mason and I got the same scores on our History finals again, and that was the most exciting part of that year. Well, congratulations, you’ve made it through four chapters of mindless babble. Yea, remember way back to the title page, you know, the one that says “Guide to FRESHMAN AND SOPHMORE years in HIGHSCHOOL?” Yea, well, your reward for sitting through the mindless years of my life is the fun mindless years of my life. You’ve all been introduced to Mason and Matt, who you will all find have played major roles in my development. You’ve met Mason’s family, skipped mine, met the Gamers Elite, read how evil I was as a child, and how I got the chicken pox. Well, now things get interesting, even more so than the nuns at my Baptist pre-school…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-107134202016579425?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/107134202016579425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/107134202016579425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107134202016579425' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106989591404271607</id><published>2003-11-26T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-26T17:19:06.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HI! Ok, now that things are kinda rolling along again, I'm about to buy my domain and make myself a decent site, etc. Anyway, until the site is designed and all that (should be up after christmas), I'm gonna make a mailing list. since I'm once again working on the bios, and you want to keep posted on updates, e-mail me at &lt;strong&gt;SephirothClone@adelphia.net&lt;/strong&gt;. Until the next update (soon! Promise!) cya around!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106989591404271607?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106989591404271607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106989591404271607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106989591404271607' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106797510095422065</id><published>2003-11-04T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-04T11:44:58.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Fruity: Alrighty ya weirdo, STILL LOVE YA!!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One can only hope...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106797510095422065?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106797510095422065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106797510095422065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106797510095422065' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106797497356415454</id><published>2003-11-04T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-04T11:42:51.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Farewell for now? maybe...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'll be working really hard soon on getting a New site up. That's right, I'm going to purchase a domain name, and have an actual website for my bios, art, life, and all sorts of stuff. I promise to work really hard on it so...oh, lets face it, I shit everything together last minute...lol. Oh well, I hope you can all bear with me as I develop, move, and organize everything..but before that, I have to work on my personal life first, as you will read in the following passage. Oh, and before I go on my little break, I will have an insert (one of those little stories about me) up and MAYBE the fourth chapter, but thats a big MAYBE. Oh well, take care, and check back in for updates on the move and what not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106797497356415454?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106797497356415454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106797497356415454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106797497356415454' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106797468648961139</id><published>2003-11-04T11:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-04T11:38:04.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dramatic, Ain’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has these little dramas. As you progress through your many years, you will encounter all of them, which was set before you by some all powerful force, depending on your faith. Now, I seem to come across these little dramas many a time, and over the course of this life, not only do these dramas belong to me, but also to those whom I know. My life, as it would seem, crosses over into countless other’s flowing lives, and I just can’t seem to make it with out bashing into the little jagged rocks that are these dramas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, once again, I run into one of these rocks, and I’m stuck for the time being- slowly attempting to fix the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real problem? Melissa hates me. Melissa is my one of my dearest and best friends, and I never meant to hurt her. I just wasn’t ready. I am still so confused. I am tangled, drowning in the endless amount of trouble that flows within the life stream. Good things bring malice, and all I want is to fix the problems at hand. Ok…what I’m trying to say is…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might not be up and running to site for a while. I really have no time for writing, and the great deal of homework certainly isn’t helping. To those who share concerns, I greatly appreciate it, but until I can get my life back in order, I can’t bring myself to let you laugh (along with me, of course) at it. So, until I can get back to the site, and actually set things right, there won’t be much work done to the site. (kinda like how I haven't poted much anyway)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106797468648961139?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106797468648961139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106797468648961139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106797468648961139' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106558317947967331</id><published>2003-10-07T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-07T20:19:39.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;El Procrastinator.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, I put it off, and now I'm getting flack for not keeping good on my promise. I began writing the fourth chapter on september 29th, and was like "I can either shit this up and have it done by my due date, or I can make it decent and post it...someday. Before chapter four comes out, I'll have another special up, so stay tuned for that, mmmk? Oh, and on a side note, I made a cool friend named Tasha, thanks to Davie, who I dont get to talk to anymore. Things are hellish, thanks to school and such. Oh well, keep believing that someday, I will post that fourth chapter, and we'll all live in harmonic guitars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106558317947967331?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106558317947967331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106558317947967331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_10_01_archive.html#106558317947967331' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106399631361909273</id><published>2003-09-19T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-19T11:31:53.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;El Visual&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've put up a link to Matt's "Fat Wallets and Coconuts" site. Its a good story, if u like bizzare humour (i.e. my bios) go there and check it out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106399631361909273?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106399631361909273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106399631361909273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106399631361909273' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106281524381917268</id><published>2003-09-05T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-05T19:27:23.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Hey y'all...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...I was &lt;em&gt;going&lt;/em&gt; to write the fourth chapter this week, but then I..just didn't? Eh, writting's been fuzzy lately, and I have so much homework now that it's not ever funny...More like...shoot myself in the foot....kinda stuff. Oh well, I PROMISE that before Septembers end, I will have the fourth chapter up and running, mmmk? alrighty then. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106281524381917268?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106281524381917268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106281524381917268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106281524381917268' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106272907955299411</id><published>2003-09-04T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-04T19:31:19.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;New...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I've got the Blog re-furbrished. Got seperate links for every chapter and so forth. happy days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106272907955299411?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106272907955299411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106272907955299411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_09_01_archive.html#106272907955299411' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-106211802411282808</id><published>2003-08-28T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-28T17:47:04.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of work is going to be done to Natesbio! It will soon have individual sections for each chapter, and it'll have a new layout.&lt;br /&gt;I've been away due to three thins:&lt;br /&gt;1.Computer Virus&lt;br /&gt;2.Soul Calibur 2&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;3.Fooly Cooly. (homework assignment from Will...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, more to come, i &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; began (just began meaning I havent really started, but i plan to within the week) the fourth chapter, and that should make its appearance within the next couple days (next copule of days meaning whenver i sit down and write it..and feel like posting it)&lt;br /&gt;Until then,&lt;br /&gt;burning your house and your house with my omega mental powers,&lt;br /&gt;Nathan Jones&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-106211802411282808?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106211802411282808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/106211802411282808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106211802411282808' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-105988516637996191</id><published>2003-08-02T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-02T21:32:46.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>INTERESTING FACT TIME!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to know where I picked up the name Nate!?!?! I'll tell ya if you reaaaaaaaaally want to know! Ok, fine, I'll tell ya anyway!&lt;br /&gt;Well, it was first grade, and I was in mrs. Doulburgs class, and the teacher asked me for my name.&lt;br /&gt;"Ok class, now in the name of all that is hippie and sacred, I'm going to go around and ask you all for your names. Now, Names bind us to mortal flesh, so we are going to get into touch with our spiritual roots. mmmk?"&lt;br /&gt;So she went around the room, almost all the students scared straight out of thier minds. It seemed fine, most which went as follows:&lt;br /&gt;"Hello there spirit waker. May I ask your name?"&lt;br /&gt;"Um....." he/she would respond, shaking and stuttering, afraid that this woman was about to snap any moment.&lt;br /&gt;"My...uh...name is....geh...guh....agergdfh...may I please go to the bathroom?"&lt;br /&gt;"Not until you've named yourself, my little Star Child..."&lt;br /&gt;"My name is....shit....um, Jeffery..."&lt;br /&gt;"goooooood...mmmk?"&lt;br /&gt;and so the line grew smaller, and by the time she had gotten to me, I had mustered the courage to name myself.&lt;br /&gt;"And you, little bug eyed one?"&lt;br /&gt;"Naherghsn....shit...Nathan"&lt;br /&gt;"Nate?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, Nathan."&lt;br /&gt;"I see, Nate is a lovely name."&lt;br /&gt;"No. Are you stupid? Nathan."&lt;br /&gt;"thank you nate, take your.."&lt;br /&gt;"N-A-F (like I said, illiterate)-han"&lt;br /&gt;"mmmmmmmmmmmmmk, what is it you're trying to get across to me Nate?"&lt;br /&gt;"Can I go to the bathroom?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so for the whole year, I was known as Nate, and by years end, the name had stuck. So for all of you who don't like my name, the Hippie lady was at fault. Too tired, and really not having the patience to fight it any longer, I found that Nate had less letters to write anyway. I later learned that she had gotten my name from a book calle d"Nate the Great" which, I had no patience to read either. So, I took my new name, and listened to years of growth of a song from:&lt;br /&gt;"Nate Nate, stupid Nate, Went to bed to hibernate"&lt;br /&gt;to&lt;br /&gt;"Nate Nate, dumbass Nate, too damn dumb to close the gate"&lt;br /&gt;to&lt;br /&gt;"Nate Nate, fagish Nate, likes to go and Masterbate"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there were countless others. In fact, should you make up one that catches the fancy of a neighbor, or manages to free a gigle from a class mate, go ahead and send it to me, From the email adress listed, or through AIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so ends Episode One of:&lt;br /&gt;"Nathan Jones; A History"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-105988516637996191?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/105988516637996191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/105988516637996191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#105988516637996191' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636040.post-105987997431740537</id><published>2003-08-02T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-02T20:10:42.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Intermission from the Author:&lt;br /&gt;A Quick look at the things I hate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am sitting here, the date is August 2, 2003, and I am reflecting upon things that I hate. I sat down to begin writing chapter three, but with so many things on my mind I’ve found it quite difficult to do so. Many a thing on this list will be dealt with by books end, if I have not already run it down with my lawn Mower of Justice already. The list is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;1.	People.&lt;br /&gt;2.	Moving vehicles I’m not at the helm of.&lt;br /&gt;3.	Girls who know how to manipulate me hormones&lt;br /&gt;4.	Men who can do the same.&lt;br /&gt;5.	British Authors currently residing in Scotland.&lt;br /&gt;6.	White Rappers.&lt;br /&gt;7.	People who have the ability to break from my headlock.&lt;br /&gt;8.	People who aren’t reading my book.&lt;br /&gt;9.	Teh Ghetto.&lt;br /&gt;10.	School.&lt;br /&gt;11.	Movie Sequels.&lt;br /&gt;12.	Eggs. Yea, remember that Catholic Preschool I was telling ya about? They served eggs every morning, and always knew when I was spewing them in the bathroom. They then proceeded to make me eat more.&lt;br /&gt;13.	Catholic Preschools.&lt;br /&gt;14.	Nuns with the hobby of torturing Nate.&lt;br /&gt;15.	Reading.&lt;br /&gt;16.	Having Love that dare not speak its name syndrome.&lt;br /&gt;17.	owning emotions.&lt;br /&gt;18.	Emotions owning me.&lt;br /&gt;19.	Will on two hours of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;20.	Sarah on no sugar.&lt;br /&gt;21.	Mason on Diablo II.&lt;br /&gt;22.	Diablo II.&lt;br /&gt;23.	Matthew on a fetish.&lt;br /&gt;24.	Not owning a guitar case full of guns.&lt;br /&gt;25.	People.&lt;br /&gt;26.	Skipping the chapter where the hero’s finger is bitten off.&lt;br /&gt;27.	An Atherton in a bad mood.&lt;br /&gt;28.	The Chaplin Beating Stick.&lt;br /&gt;29.	People.&lt;br /&gt;30.	People complaining about vacations.&lt;br /&gt;31.	Running out of things to hate.&lt;br /&gt;32.	People who spill cola on my yearbook.&lt;br /&gt;33.	People.&lt;br /&gt;34.	Complaints about cussing.&lt;br /&gt;35.	Fuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so my list draws to a close. With a final:&lt;br /&gt;36.	Parents divorcing.&lt;br /&gt;And that’s all she wrote. Or he. Since I’m a male author. &lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I doubt that I would ever include this section into a publication of this book. But I had to get things of my chest, and I figured the best way to go about doing so was to make a list of all the things I hated. This wasn’t meant to be funny by any means, but at times like this, it’s good to take a deep breath, of pure oxygen, kick back, and write. And Stuff. So, now, I want all of you readers to do the same, I want you all to pull out a piece of paper, any kind will do, or perhaps someone’s arm, or anything a pen will mark upon, and I would like you to go wild with a list of the things you hate. Seriously, do it or no chapter three. Then, submit your lists to SephirothClone@adelphia.net, or better yet, since a computer virus&lt;br /&gt;37.	Computer Viruses&lt;br /&gt;Has been enjoying a little taste of Nate’s computer, I would like you to give me your list via AIM, at the screen name “ChocoboChild33”.&lt;br /&gt;38.	AOL.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your cooperation.&lt;br /&gt;39.	formal thank you’s and apologies.&lt;br /&gt;and I will get around to writing chapter three soon!&lt;br /&gt;40.	Work.&lt;br /&gt;41.	Getting around to things.&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely, Nate.&lt;br /&gt;42. My name.&lt;br /&gt;42. People.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5636040-105987997431740537?l=natesbio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/105987997431740537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5636040/posts/default/105987997431740537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://natesbio.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#105987997431740537' title=''/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06450727352065325194</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></entry></feed>
