<?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-7716335</id><updated>2011-04-21T10:42:41.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kyle At War!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleatwar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7716335/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleatwar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kyle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08906957104367702500</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>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7716335.post-109052484857288530</id><published>2004-07-22T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-22T21:19:46.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;War!: A Long Time Comming&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have only been a few times in my life when I've really wanted to kill something. This is one of those times. There are these birds outside that won't stop their incessant squeaking. With every piercing screech, I feel it go right into my head. I ran outside to throw something at them, but before I could even get close, they sensed me comming and flew away. "I showed them!" I thought. One minute later, from inside the shelter of a nearby tree, they began their screeching again. These are the same birds who always attack Simba. Every summer, these birds come to our house. They're like turtles returning to their birthplace to spawn, except the only reason they come here is to pester my cat. Every time we let Simba out during summer, he always looks cautiously into the air, searching for his attackers. And sometimes Simba won't come in for a long time, and all we hear outside is screeching. So, we go outside to look for Simba, and he's usually under a chair, trying to take refuge from his winged foes. Usually, I hate my cat, but regardless of our differences, he's like family to me and when someone messes with him, it's like they're messing with me. And, to add on to the whole thing, now they're screeching for no reason...or are they? I think they've averted their evil eyes from Simba and set their sites on the entire household. With a little research, I've found that our friends are Mockingbirds. Fitting, isn't it? Fitting for two reasons: 1.) Oh, how they DO mock. Mock Simba, mock me, mock my whole family. And 2.) What are the chances that my purpose...is to kill the mockingbird?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my feathered friends, this means FULL SCALE WAR! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Agressor:&lt;/strong&gt; The Mockingbird. Status: Multiple agressors, possibly four to five. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Victim:&lt;/strong&gt; Simba. Age: 7, Race: Tabby, Status: Victim of random and unprovoked attacks by the agressor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Retaliator:&lt;/strong&gt; Kyle. Age: 19, Race: Caucasian, Status: Pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of the next few weeks, I will learn about my enemy. Study it. Search it for weaknesses. And eventually, I shall erraticate the Scott home of it's mockingbird problems...forever. Tune in every day as I post updates on the day's events. Tomorrow, I begin preliminary attacks. Footage to be included.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This&amp;nbsp;has been&amp;nbsp;Kyle. Over and out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7716335-109052484857288530?l=kyleatwar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleatwar.blogspot.com/feeds/109052484857288530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7716335&amp;postID=109052484857288530' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7716335/posts/default/109052484857288530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7716335/posts/default/109052484857288530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleatwar.blogspot.com/2004/07/war-long-time-comming-there-have-only.html' title=''/><author><name>Kyle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08906957104367702500</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></feed>
