<?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-5568425587847662704</id><updated>2012-03-19T00:16:38.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Incognito</title><subtitle type='html'>The girl next door. Only more unexpected.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568425587847662704.post-6820729546575828800</id><published>2012-03-08T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-03-08T19:30:38.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Unkissed</title><content type='html'>The touch, just your touch I crave. I know you feel it too. Sometimes during the day I get this catch in my chest and my heart beats fast, then slow, then fast and then I know you're thinking about me. I know it sounds crazy, possibly restraining orderish crazy but I truly think I know when you are thinking of me.&lt;br /&gt;I feel you.&lt;br /&gt;I know you want me too. Your touch told me you wanted me. A tug of my hair as I had to leave, unkissed. But not unsatiated.&lt;br /&gt;Today just your touch mattered, just you being you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5568425587847662704-6820729546575828800?l=girl-incognito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/6820729546575828800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/03/girl-unkissed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/6820729546575828800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/6820729546575828800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/03/girl-unkissed.html' title='Girl Unkissed'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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-5568425587847662704.post-1522527078394152247</id><published>2012-03-07T19:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-03-07T19:55:56.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Angsty</title><content type='html'>When there's wine and weed....... and a full moon and broken promises..... it makes for a perfect storm of gritty angst. Of loss and love. And finding oneself no matter where it takes you, no matter what the cost.&lt;br /&gt;Am I ready? Am I strong enough? I don't know if I'm strong enough.&lt;br /&gt;The angst is real, the passion is undeniable and the future is uncertain.&lt;br /&gt;The hardest part is the first step, the leap of faith.&lt;br /&gt;The universe is telling me, screaming at me..... Just. Jump.&lt;br /&gt;Why is this so hard??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5568425587847662704-1522527078394152247?l=girl-incognito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/1522527078394152247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/03/girl-deconstructed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/1522527078394152247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/1522527078394152247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/03/girl-deconstructed.html' title='Girl Angsty'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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-5568425587847662704.post-355858777335096226</id><published>2012-02-16T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-16T11:28:13.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Deconstructed</title><content type='html'>Ok, not really. Maybe a layer or two?? The thing about me is that there are so many layers and lately I've gotten lost trying to get through them all. So here I am. Incognito and vunerable and all that shit.&lt;br /&gt;People tell me their secrets because they can tell I harbor my own. Knowing other people's secrets makes me feel notso alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But secrets take on a life of their own and need to be told before the inner turmoil and angst explode in a fiery burst of emotion that would crush everything. And thus the characters are born. I have to say writing makes me feel a bit schizophrenic because it doesn't always feel normal to spend such an inordinate amount of time on a make believe world where previous conversations are manipulated to the outcome that I prefer and my hair always looks great. One of these days I'll grasp that I'm not entirely normal. Probably more of a job for a highly trained therapist to help with, but for now I've got this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've got you. The most complicated relationship in the whole world is the one that can't exist in other people's minds. But in our minds, in our souls, we exist. With heat, with passion, with that pins and needles feeling in our fingertips when we touch, we exist.&lt;br /&gt;To do this, to really do this I have to unshield my heart and be ready for whatever comes next.&lt;br /&gt;Let the story ebb and flow and it will tell itself in it's own due time, but it will tell. And it never ends, just evolves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I ready?? Are you?&lt;br /&gt;We have lots to catch up on.&lt;br /&gt;Girl Incognito&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5568425587847662704-355858777335096226?l=girl-incognito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/355858777335096226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/02/girl-deconstructed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/355858777335096226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/355858777335096226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/02/girl-deconstructed.html' title='Girl Deconstructed'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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-5568425587847662704.post-2230199425331572265</id><published>2012-02-07T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T12:08:03.008-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Harleys and heels</title><content type='html'>I've never been the kind of girl to go all googly eyed and stupid over a biker boy. Nothing against them, they've just never been on my radar before, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until this Harley. Not just any Harley......yours. I have a similar Jeep fantasy, but I digress...... Something about that bike that turns me into a giggly goeey mess. And it also makes me really wet. &amp;nbsp; I've never even ridden a motorcycle as an adult and suddenly all I can think about is how much I want my legs wrapped around your waist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So are we going back to your house soon?" I asked. " It's getting kinda cold out here and I didn't even think to bring jacket. Then again I didn't really expect you to take me out for my first real bike ride of adulthood. I was just coming over to bring back the tupperware I borrowed" I said this part with a hint of a mischievious gleam in my eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, we can go back now" you said with the same amount of smirk. "Here, take my jacket for the ride home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So chivalrous" I said and smiled while you helped me into your black leather jacket. It was still warm from your body heat and I melted into it immediately. The sumptious smell of leather mixed with the yummy smell of you was starting to make me a bit crazy. &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Hold on tight" you say as we started back. I slip my arms around your waist and bury my head in your back taking in your smell. Now, I'm not sure if it was all that fresh air, or maybe all the vibrating from the bike but by the time we get back to your house I am practically dripping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll be back in just a second, you stay here" I say as I head into the house towards the bathroom. I wanted nothing more than to fuck you at that very moment, but all these pesky clothes were getting in the way. &amp;nbsp;I stripped down to nothing but the black leather jacket you let me borrow and kept my 4 inch red heels on. Hmmm, red heels and black leather. &amp;nbsp;I walked out to the garage to see if you approve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Holy hell come here" you said very gruffly as you realized what I wasn't wearing. You push me up against your bike and kiss me so hard my world starts to spin. And just when I think I can't get any wetter you start to unzip my jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh uh, not yet" I say. "You are still fully clothed and I think you need help with some of this" I said while pulling your shirt over your head. I let my hands graze over your perfect arms, chest and stomach while gently biting your ear. I drop my lips to yours and get lost in the fluid motion of our intertwined tongues until I can barely breathe. &amp;nbsp;I stop to catch my breath and let you unzip my jacket. &amp;nbsp;Your hands slip under the soft leather and all of a sudden my body is electric with goosebumps, my nipples sensitive and aching to be touched and licked. You very quickly complied and started kissing your way down my neck while you rolled on of my nipples between your thumb and finger. &amp;nbsp;I think I tried to talk, but all that came out was squeaks and moans, so I just had to go with that. The anticipation was killing me. I wanted you to slide inside of me so bad I couldn't stand it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands drifted down your hips and over to the concealed bulge of your growing cock. I frantically work to get the button on your jeans undone and somehow can't seem to get your zipper down....... are you kidding me??? Ok, deep breaths, slow down...... You are thoroughly amused by my evident abundance of coordination and start laughing (not at me). This relaxes me a bit and I bend down to help you out of your jeans and boxers. I kiss my way back up. Up your legs, stopping at those incredible thighs,then dragging my tongue lightly over your rock hard dick. I briefly take you in my mouth.... just an inch or so in my mouth and let my tongue swirl circles all around the head. &amp;nbsp;I want to stay here a little longer, but my wet pussy was begging to be pet. I kiss my way back up your chest and giggle like a high school girl when I look into your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this" you say as I grin. You cup my face in your hands and kiss me again while pulling my body against yours. I feel your fingers start to glide down my chest, then my hips, and start to tease my waiting pussy. I'm pretty sure I'm just going to explode with anticipation right then and there, but I manage to keep my cool. I have even less capacity for words at this point as my back arches into you as you slip a finger into me. "Oh my fucking god" I moan breathlessly as you slip in a second finger. I say your name. A few times. Mostly followed by "oh my god" again. I know, not so original but damn I can't think right now. Your fingers feel amazing and for a good couple of minutes I let you finger fuck me while resting on your bike to hold steady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathless. Fuck, it leaves me so breathless. Every nerve in my body is electrified and I'm starting to feel like I can't get you inside me fast enough. I want to guide your hips when you thrust in and out of me. I want to wrap my legs around you and make you moan my name in my ear over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;We'll get to that.&lt;br /&gt;Anticipation................................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5568425587847662704-2230199425331572265?l=girl-incognito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/2230199425331572265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/02/harleys-and-heels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/2230199425331572265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/2230199425331572265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/02/harleys-and-heels.html' title='Harleys and heels'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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-5568425587847662704.post-4329767328825189767</id><published>2012-02-06T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T19:47:38.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets and Addictions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;The party. The people. All those people and none of them know our secret.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;No one saw you whispering "I want you so bad" in my ear as you walked by me. No one saw the way we looked at each other.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;No one saw the way you let your hand drag down my back and rest on my ass. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;No one saw the kiss we stole at the end of the night.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;You are my biggest secret. And my biggest addiction. I can't get enough of you. You haunt my world. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;Your arms all around me, smelling perfect like you usually do. Your hands going to places that you shouldn't go with all your friends around. The promise of your tongue licking anywhere I want.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;Secrets and addictions. They are just the beginning of what you think you know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;Til there's a next time,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt; Girl Incognito&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/sIaNf5n4_wU?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5568425587847662704-4329767328825189767?l=girl-incognito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/4329767328825189767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/02/secrets-and-addictions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/4329767328825189767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/4329767328825189767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/02/secrets-and-addictions.html' title='Secrets and Addictions'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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://img.youtube.com/vi/sIaNf5n4_wU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568425587847662704.post-2410466530630742046</id><published>2012-01-26T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T18:28:38.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px;"&gt;My mind jumps from one place to the next so fast that most days I don't slow down long enough to record anything pertinent. But some days I need to. I need to get this out. These stories of mine. Of others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px;"&gt;The real beginning was almost 3 years ago. Girl Incognito was born from necessity 2 1/2 years ago. The stories I hear..... and the stories I can tell........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px;"&gt;But I start with this. Lust. Want. Need. The beginning. And still now. But beginnings are the sweetest. And when I say I want you..... fuck I mean &amp;nbsp;I really want you. This is the most complicated thing ever.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/DuRjiNUDQ3s?fs=1" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5568425587847662704-2410466530630742046?l=girl-incognito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/2410466530630742046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/01/beginnings_26.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/2410466530630742046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/2410466530630742046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/01/beginnings_26.html' title='Beginnings'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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://img.youtube.com/vi/DuRjiNUDQ3s/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568425587847662704.post-4304712872389256660</id><published>2012-01-26T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T18:25:30.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shut Up &amp; Kiss Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;It's simple really. Stop talking. Stop making excuses. I know you want me, as much as I want you. We'll get to that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;For the moment....... just shut up and kiss me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8RJucof-v78?fs=1" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5568425587847662704-4304712872389256660?l=girl-incognito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/feeds/4304712872389256660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/01/shut-up-kiss-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/4304712872389256660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5568425587847662704/posts/default/4304712872389256660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girl-incognito.blogspot.com/2012/01/shut-up-kiss-me.html' title='Shut Up &amp; Kiss Me'/><author><name>Girl Incognito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18355763488666085205</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://img.youtube.com/vi/8RJucof-v78/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
