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	<title>Snoobug &#187; husband</title>
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		<title>Wherefore art thou, blog?</title>
		<link>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/2666</link>
		<comments>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/2666#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 03 Dec 2010 05:05:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Giang</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life of Giang]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[husband]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Hello, little blog. Have I forsaken you for a house? I love our house &#8211; haven after unfullfilling days, patient palette for my mad decorating schemes, ultimate cubby hole for my magical stuffs, and resting place of my sweet jackass husband. Be it ever so humble, and all that. I have a new ukelele! It [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Curt&#8217;s little atheist group</title>
		<link>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/2437</link>
		<comments>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/2437#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Jan 2010 06:37:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Giang</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life of Giang]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Curt]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[husband]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Wah, wah, freakin&#8217; wah! UGH. It drives me crazy that my husband participates in this nonsense. (In his defense, he at least is not a brainless leftist-or-die zombie to the anti-god cause. He&#8217;ll still call out bullshit. Even if he is sometimes a jackass about it.) I have as hard a time with organized non-religion [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The late early late late post</title>
		<link>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/2106</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Sep 2009 10:32:14 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Giang</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life of Giang]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[husband]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[It&#8217;s nice to see the spammers still love me, even if I haven&#8217;t blogged for a month. Sometimes it&#8217;s hard to plug in. I can only take so much plugging in; my cord is old and frayed. (That may sound wrong, but it&#8217;s 2 AM and I just tripped over the only pair of high [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Let me count the ways&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/1860</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 29 May 2009 13:43:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Giang</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life of Giang]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Things That Are Awesome]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Curt]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[husband]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Remember that cat &#8211; I call her Clementine &#8211; that the next door neighbors abandoned when they moved? Apparently she was pregnant. A few days ago I noticed she didn&#8217;t have her belly anymore, so yesterday morning I followed her to her nest. She&#8217;d built it in the bush on the fence growing between our [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Haunted</title>
		<link>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/1732</link>
		<comments>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/1732#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Apr 2009 05:26:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Giang</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Baseball]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[husband]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Mary Murray walked the halls of the house at night, and her eyes were accustomed to its many shadows. Six hundred and six pools of darkness on the ground, six hundred and six shifting with the moon. Mary walked, and she counted softly as she went. Three hundred and thirty as her footsteps made no [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Gripe story</title>
		<link>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/1646</link>
		<comments>http://www.snoobug.com/archives/1646#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Mar 2009 04:09:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Giang</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[husband]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m very tired. I&#8217;m going to bed. This is poor, but demonstrative. Whee! Cara stood in front of the car’s open window, and considered her options. If someone saw her do it, she might be arrested. She imagined herself behind bars, having to explain to her husband (or worse, her mother) why it was she’d [...]]]></description>
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