<?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-8588347191662764342</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:03:00.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UnContented</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8588347191662764342.post-2095810946330473735</id><published>2007-12-28T14:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T14:41:17.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No sex watch...a year is approaching</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I can't believe that fact that I'm approaching my 40 year mark, and I still have the shittiest sex life I could ever imagine. I had more sexual contact with my high-school girlfriend and we didn't have intercourse. Fucking lame times 10!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p class='poweredbyperformancing'&gt;Powered by &lt;a href='http://scribefire.com/'&gt;ScribeFire&lt;/a&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/8588347191662764342-2095810946330473735?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/2095810946330473735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=2095810946330473735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/2095810946330473735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/2095810946330473735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-sex-watcha-year-is-approaching.html' title='No sex watch...a year is approaching'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-3230687140275448933</id><published>2007-12-28T14:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T14:39:05.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not going to give in...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;As much as I want to, I am not going to give in. When the question is finally asked:"Why are still sleeping the couch?" And my answer(s) is/are given: I am not going to sleep in the same bed as someone that obviously doesn't want to have anything to do with me physically. That doesn't just include sex, if you aren't going to proactively (is that a word?) make the effort to be affectionate or intimate then you can sleep by yourself. I'm past eating my pride on this one. Massaging your back isn't enough. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p class='poweredbyperformancing'&gt;Powered by &lt;a href='http://scribefire.com/'&gt;ScribeFire&lt;/a&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/8588347191662764342-3230687140275448933?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/3230687140275448933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=3230687140275448933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/3230687140275448933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/3230687140275448933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-not-going-to-give-in.html' title='I&amp;#39;m not going to give in...'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-3208705237888084187</id><published>2007-11-29T19:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T19:53:10.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No particular rants lately</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;It's been about a week without any rants, or complaints or internal dialogs made external. I'm sure one will pop out soon. Lucky you!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p class='poweredbyperformancing'&gt;Powered by &lt;a href='http://scribefire.com/'&gt;ScribeFire&lt;/a&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/8588347191662764342-3208705237888084187?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/3208705237888084187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=3208705237888084187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/3208705237888084187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/3208705237888084187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/11/no-particular-rants-lately.html' title='No particular rants lately'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-5571103960563170851</id><published>2007-11-24T12:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T12:44:48.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One track mind.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;So I made a mistake with my son this weekend. I felt he was working the "go into bed" thing and actually he was afraid because it was too dark. So of course he gets upset and mom comes to the rescue. And of course my wife goes off on me how she's &lt;b&gt;so &lt;/b&gt;tired of how I interact with the kids. She's uses an example of my Stepmom and brings up the whole song and dance related with her. She also states that the lack of whatever that happens with the kids is 90% of the issue she has with me and how she doesn't want to work on the marriage because of that. &lt;br/&gt;What's funny is that how I feel I am treated (or not treated) by her is exactly the same way as her example of my stepmom.&lt;br/&gt;For me it's like there is this glass that is rubbed with vaseline, and it obscures everything else. Most of the time I'm like what the fuck. As soon as a I get home, everything is clouded with the fact that she can't expend one ounce of energy for any kind of affection. If it wasn't for me there wouldn't be any contact at all. &lt;br/&gt;I could be wrong, but I think that a huge problem is that for her the kids are everything. Granted they are just about the most important part of our lives but, and it's a big but, they aren't everything in our lives. It's no wonder we haven't had an intimate relationship since our daughter was born. Once that happened all other concerns got pushed to the side.&lt;br/&gt;Wake up and realize that!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p class='poweredbyperformancing'&gt;Powered by &lt;a href='http://scribefire.com/'&gt;ScribeFire&lt;/a&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/8588347191662764342-5571103960563170851?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/5571103960563170851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=5571103960563170851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/5571103960563170851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/5571103960563170851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/11/one-track-mind.html' title='One track mind.'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-5795761860334021659</id><published>2007-11-19T08:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T08:46:08.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex Watch weekend: none!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Wait you didn't have sex again for the umpteenth weekend in a row? That's crazy! &lt;br/&gt;Actually it's fucking lame. I'm good enough to be used as a masseuse but as a sexual partner. Getting physically close and intimate (not just sex) is as easy as getting intimate with a sea urchin. I still can't wait for when it gets brought up. "Well we would have some intimacy if you slept in bed with me." My response: "I only sleep where I'm wanted, and it's obvious to me that I'm not wanted in the bedroom, you can barely tolerate any affection as it is."&lt;br/&gt;Uncontented with a capital &lt;b&gt;T&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p class='poweredbyperformancing'&gt;Powered by &lt;a href='http://scribefire.com/'&gt;ScribeFire&lt;/a&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/8588347191662764342-5795761860334021659?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/5795761860334021659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=5795761860334021659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/5795761860334021659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/5795761860334021659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/11/sex-watch-weekend-none.html' title='Sex Watch weekend: none!'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-2238977812938265134</id><published>2007-11-16T11:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T11:09:02.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Seriously, is it that hard to drive? The controls are pretty simple left-right, forward-backward. Try being assertive when coming onto the freeway from an on-ramp. As in, get up to speed and join the Flow of traffic. Your goal should be not to impede the aforementioned flow. If you're going to turn, turn! Try taking your foot off the gas, instead of using your brake.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p class='poweredbyperformancing'&gt;Powered by &lt;a href='http://scribefire.com/'&gt;ScribeFire&lt;/a&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/8588347191662764342-2238977812938265134?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/2238977812938265134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=2238977812938265134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/2238977812938265134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/2238977812938265134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/11/driving-issues.html' title='Driving issues'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-8475707793562049046</id><published>2007-11-15T13:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T13:44:16.778-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catchphrase...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Here's the catchphrase I want to say all the time now: Booo-Fucking-Hooo!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p class='poweredbyperformancing'&gt;Powered by &lt;a href='http://scribefire.com/'&gt;ScribeFire&lt;/a&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/8588347191662764342-8475707793562049046?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/8475707793562049046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=8475707793562049046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/8475707793562049046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/8475707793562049046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/11/catchphrase.html' title='Catchphrase...'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-6683511332738235383</id><published>2007-11-15T12:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T08:41:48.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex, wouldn't it be nice?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;It would really be nice to have some. Unfortunately I'm in a state of unwanted celibacy. Fucking great. I figure at some point I'm going to have to ask and say, do you (spouse) think you are going to want to engage in a physical relationship anymore? Cuz if not, things are going to have to change. I've gone for about 9 years without a decent sex life, and I'm not going to do it anymore, it's bullshit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8588347191662764342-6683511332738235383?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/6683511332738235383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=6683511332738235383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/6683511332738235383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/6683511332738235383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/11/sex-wouldnt-it-be-nice.html' title='Sex, wouldn&amp;#39;t it be nice?'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</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-8588347191662764342.post-5744888651596531228</id><published>2007-11-15T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T09:55:56.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>UnContented</title><content type='html'>Here's the first post of UnContented. I need something to vent on about the bullshit that is my personal life, and this seemed like one of the best places to do it. Warning: If you don't like the word "Fuck" and it's lesser cousins like "Shit," "Crap," "Bullshit," "God-Fucking-Dammit," then this is not the place for you.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm frustrated, once again another stupid argument with my spouse, and OF course I'm so frustrating to communicate with. Well Fuck that! So we had some food items and I took one of two. At the end of a good phone call my wife brings up the fact that it would be nice if I see two edible items, not to eat one so that other people in the house could have some. Wait, did you not leave them out for everyone to eat? I'm sorry but if it's food I'm going to eat it, unless somebody tells me not to eat it. Plenty of food gets wasted because if I don't eat the rest of the family won't.  Especially leftovers.&lt;br /&gt;So my tactic from now is going to be: "Can I eat this/these? Should I set some aside so that I know which stuff I can eat?" "Is that acceptable?" Meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, no-fucking-wonder I don't sleep in the same bed with you. Especially when you (my wife) say it's so frustrating to communicate with me. Well maybe if you opened the blinders and understood the subtext of what you were saying, whether you intended to have subtext or not. Subtext: You can't eat stuff that is out, everybody else in the house always has first dibs and it's not you.&lt;br /&gt;Here's an idea, communicate the fact that you might want to eat them for breakfast and say, "Can you save some we haven't had any.",Or, "I was planning on giving them to the kids." By now you should know that If you set it out in a plastic bag on the counter I'm going to eat it. It's fair game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8588347191662764342-5744888651596531228?l=uncontented.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/feeds/5744888651596531228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8588347191662764342&amp;postID=5744888651596531228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/5744888651596531228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8588347191662764342/posts/default/5744888651596531228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uncontented.blogspot.com/2007/11/uncontented.html' title='UnContented'/><author><name>Generally Frustrated</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15876862700536569108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
