<?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-21166270</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:52:44.212-07:00</updated><category term='Pretoria'/><category term='freaks of nature'/><category term='idols'/><category term='kekeke'/><category term='cows'/><title type='text'>Leave google at the door</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-6810920925618246570</id><published>2007-03-06T05:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T18:41:50.266-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pretoria'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kekeke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='idols'/><title type='text'>Tshwane wants to be the next idol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H69z7qAt1KE/Re1q0FSJRuI/AAAAAAAAAAM/cZmcs_JJl6E/s1600-h/tshwane.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H69z7qAt1KE/Re1q0FSJRuI/AAAAAAAAAAM/cZmcs_JJl6E/s320/tshwane.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038801001101477602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the City of Tshwane's logo. WTF? It looks like a city logo in goth drag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it got me thinking, why do we not discourage people from idiocracy? Its kinda like the fools who want to be the "next idol" but couldn't hit a note, even if they fell on a piano. Surely at some stage, they sang for someone and asked for feedback. If we were just honest with these people in the first place, then so much pain and suffering would be avoided. The same for the Tshwane logo. Why didnt somebody speak up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-6810920925618246570?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/6810920925618246570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=6810920925618246570' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/6810920925618246570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/6810920925618246570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2007/03/tshwane-wants-to-be-next-idol.html' title='Tshwane wants to be the next idol'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H69z7qAt1KE/Re1q0FSJRuI/AAAAAAAAAAM/cZmcs_JJl6E/s72-c/tshwane.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-5844203847907993477</id><published>2007-02-19T00:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T00:18:09.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cape Town Traffic Circles</title><content type='html'>I was in Cape Town recently, and besides the coked up vintage hippies with their pretentious glasses and oversized curtain-like dresses... people in Cape Town &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CANNOT&lt;/span&gt; drive. There seems to be no understanding that in the art of driving, especially when there is an oversupply of cars, it does not make sense to cut into lanes when its not your turn... you just hold up traffic. The sum of the whole is greater than its individual parts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides this madness, they have these massive four lane traffic circles. Yes, I know, four lane traffic circles? Obviously this was the breeding ground for the genia (pronounced jeen-ee-i) that mapped out Pretoria. What I can only guess is an attempt to correct moronic Cape Townian driving, they have put in traffic lights &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;IN&lt;/span&gt; the traffic circle. Huh? Isn't it reduntant to have both?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-5844203847907993477?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/5844203847907993477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=5844203847907993477' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/5844203847907993477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/5844203847907993477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2007/02/cape-town-traffic-circles.html' title='Cape Town Traffic Circles'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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-21166270.post-116967368601366637</id><published>2007-01-24T13:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T05:51:21.048-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pretoria'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kekeke'/><title type='text'>Freekin Pretoria</title><content type='html'>I had to go to Pretoria today- Pretoria should actually be a question by itself, and the question would quite simply be: Why? But, I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Pretoria today. I HATE Pretoria. It defies the laws of logic, common sense and evolution. Firstly, you dont leave the same way you enter the city. The N14 literally ends. And then *surprise* you are in Pretoria central. So you can forget the idea of "backtracking".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the city centre has 3-lane one ways. Come on! Could you seriously not have made ONE freeking lane go in the opposite direction? If you make a wrong turn, a simple u-turn evolves into a L-shape recovery as you try to negotiate the one ways back to where you started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then to leave the city centre, you have to "find" the N14 again. I say "find" because well, the bloody thing disappeared 8km's to the left of where you are now heading. The whole place is basically what happens when a city planner develops a sense of humour- at your expense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am told however, that much of my Pretoria angst would be solved if I just enter at the "UNISA side" of Pretoria. But, does anyone actually know how to get there?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-116967368601366637?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/116967368601366637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=116967368601366637' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/116967368601366637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/116967368601366637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2007/01/freekin-pretoria.html' title='Freekin Pretoria'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-116427674938388553</id><published>2006-11-23T02:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T02:12:29.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aquafresh</title><content type='html'>Back from blogging obscurity :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But more importantly, how does Aquafresh toothpaste always come out the tube stripy? No matter how you squeeze it, at an angle, from the side, it always comes out in the perfect aquafresh stripe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally I think it may be witchcraft, but I am open to suggestions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-116427674938388553?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/116427674938388553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=116427674938388553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/116427674938388553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/116427674938388553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/11/aquafresh.html' title='Aquafresh'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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-21166270.post-114799435761471648</id><published>2006-05-18T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T16:19:17.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The question which flumexed me</title><content type='html'>This is a serious question: What is the difference between a warranty and a guarentee?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114799435761471648?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114799435761471648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114799435761471648' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114799435761471648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114799435761471648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/05/question-which-flumexed-me.html' title='The question which flumexed me'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-114660975528333512</id><published>2006-05-02T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T15:42:35.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Easter Bunny</title><content type='html'>Ok so I have been bad with posting. Sue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's recently been easter etc. Here's what has been bothering me: Where the hell did the easter bunny come from? Easter, passover whatever you want to call it has no symbology (Boondock Saints:1998) of bunnies at all. What disturbs me even more is that these 'Easter' bunnies lay eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to meet the marketing genius who thought that up. He was probably saying to himself, "We need to find a way to commercialise the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ. What shall we do... what shall we do... Oh, I know, we'll market a bunny that lays chocolate eggs. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, they picked an animal that fornicates (ref: shagging like rabbits) at an incredible rate and gives birth to live young? Am I the only one missing the conceptual link here?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114660975528333512?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114660975528333512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114660975528333512' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114660975528333512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114660975528333512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/05/easter-bunny.html' title='The Easter Bunny'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-114380048834310285</id><published>2006-03-31T02:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T02:21:28.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the brits</title><content type='html'>I dont understand the British. They came, saw, conquered etc and left us with the metric system. So most, if not all the colonies are using the metric system. SO could somebody please explain to me the hell the British work in stones and or pounds . And how much is a stone anyway? The Brits also use miles instead of kilometers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do they know something we dont? Maybe the metric system is crap, a hoax, a farce.  Or only good for the help :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114380048834310285?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114380048834310285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114380048834310285' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114380048834310285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114380048834310285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/03/brits.html' title='the brits'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-114312774819276750</id><published>2006-03-23T07:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T07:29:08.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hamsters</title><content type='html'>It has occured to me that with all the ingeneous scientific progress we have made, we have not managed to make a cage that a hamster cant get out of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the surface, hamsters dont seem to be that bright. They smell kinda funky, live in pine shavings and run on a wheel.  So how is it possible for a hamster to escape? Are they the real mice in our Hitch hiker's guide?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114312774819276750?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114312774819276750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114312774819276750' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114312774819276750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114312774819276750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/03/hamsters.html' title='hamsters'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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-21166270.post-114233905478343971</id><published>2006-03-14T04:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T04:24:14.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the case of the appearing Smurf</title><content type='html'>ok this one has been bugging me for a while. I was a huge fan of the Smurfs. If anyone has seen the Smurfs (ie part of the most AWESOME generation to exist EVER), then you will probably remember Pappa Smurf, Vanity, Hefty and of course the only girl Smurfette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here is where the plot thickens. All of a sudden I was watching the Smurfs and there was this red haired freckled smurf girl anmed Sassette. WHERE DID SHE COME FROM? Can Smurfs suddenly reproduce? If so, which Smurfs got it on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless Smurf is code for Mormon and Papa Smurf was a bi-polygamist. I just dont know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114233905478343971?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114233905478343971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114233905478343971' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114233905478343971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114233905478343971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/03/case-of-appearing-smurf.html' title='the case of the appearing Smurf'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-114163545192909761</id><published>2006-03-06T00:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T00:57:31.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ponty</title><content type='html'>How do the people who live at the top of the ponty tower sleep with the flashing 'vodacom' sign?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114163545192909761?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114163545192909761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114163545192909761' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114163545192909761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114163545192909761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/03/ponty.html' title='ponty'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-114107765698130883</id><published>2006-02-27T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T14:00:57.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ski-flying</title><content type='html'>Or that's what they call it Norway. It's also called ski-jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is simple: how the hell do you learn how to do it? I understand the skiing down a mountain over little bumps etc and being airborne for bit. But how the hell do you work your way up to skiing down a ramp and launching yourself for meters in the air???? Do they just push you down and hope for the best?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114107765698130883?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114107765698130883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114107765698130883' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114107765698130883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114107765698130883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/02/ski-flying.html' title='Ski-flying'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-114053059549813867</id><published>2006-02-21T05:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T06:03:15.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sausages</title><content type='html'>Are vienna sausages called viennas in Vienna or are they just called sausages. And are Russians sausages called Russians in Russia or just sausages?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114053059549813867?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114053059549813867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114053059549813867' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114053059549813867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114053059549813867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/02/sausages.html' title='sausages'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-114004130471260487</id><published>2006-02-15T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T14:08:24.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>salt and snow</title><content type='html'>I was in a smowy country recently- and *surprise* it snowed. Which is all good and well.  They put  salt on the sidewalks  to clear the snow- i get that. But why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bear with me: If salt lowers the freezing point of water, then surely it would lower the freezing point of snow. Surely this should result in the snow remaining on the sidewalk and not melting?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-114004130471260487?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/114004130471260487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=114004130471260487' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114004130471260487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/114004130471260487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/02/salt-and-snow.html' title='salt and snow'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-113921895311269586</id><published>2006-02-06T01:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T01:42:34.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>traffic silliness</title><content type='html'>What is up with the two lane traffic circle? Once you are on the inside lane and there is lots of traffic, you are screwed. Its just silly. can someone please explain the rationale behind this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-113921895311269586?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/113921895311269586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=113921895311269586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113921895311269586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113921895311269586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/02/traffic-silliness_06.html' title='traffic silliness'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-113870401132088996</id><published>2006-01-31T02:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T02:40:11.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ostriches</title><content type='html'>In keeping with animals:&lt;br /&gt;ostriches: whats the deal there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean they hide their heads in sand when they are scared- that's real smart. Predators will be fooled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They eat stones- clearly an indication of their small brains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the real bafflement is: If ostriches are poultry read: bird meat, then why is their meat red?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-113870401132088996?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/113870401132088996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=113870401132088996' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113870401132088996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113870401132088996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/01/ostriches.html' title='Ostriches'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-113775170260966214</id><published>2006-01-20T02:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T05:52:02.497-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freaks of nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cows'/><title type='text'>The cow</title><content type='html'>They cant naturally turn around and have to walk in a big arc to go back they way they came. They eat grass, throw it up, then eat it again. In Hinduism it is a holy animal. Today's question is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;                                    Where the hell did cows come from?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;It does not seem logical that the cow slipped through the evolutionary net. They have no natural predators. They have little horns that they can't really use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has been talk of the cow being a domesticated buffalo. Buffalos are fast and are hectic in a stampede. Ever seen a cow in a stampede?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-113775170260966214?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/113775170260966214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=113775170260966214' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113775170260966214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113775170260966214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/01/cow.html' title='The cow'/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21166270.post-113761265447398246</id><published>2006-01-18T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T11:30:54.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think we take too many things for granted. For example, how do they make whisks? More precisely, how are the different metal parts joined? Are they joined together using tension or are they welded together? A fairly simple question right? But what's the answer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the task of this blog is simple: to interogate the little things that go unnoticed in our lives. All are welcome to contribute but there is one rule:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;1. No use of google or any form of referencing. All 'answers' must be through some attempt at reason and/or logic.&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21166270-113761265447398246?l=whisks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/feeds/113761265447398246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21166270&amp;postID=113761265447398246' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113761265447398246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21166270/posts/default/113761265447398246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whisks.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-think-we-take-too-many-things-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Poly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08113539904860791344</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></feed>
