<?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-8748223852964063923</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:46:52.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emerson's Stories</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748223852964063923.post-5699630479812914151</id><published>2009-06-18T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T13:51:28.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflection of the year with the Smartboard</title><content type='html'>I liked how we learned how to use new technology that we havent been able to use before. It was also fun to draw on it and do presentations. It would have been better if we would have got the Centeo's and the Airliner sooner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-5699630479812914151?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5699630479812914151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=5699630479812914151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/5699630479812914151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/5699630479812914151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2009/06/reflection-of-year-with-smartboard.html' title='Reflection of the year with the Smartboard'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-865768935920916015</id><published>2009-06-18T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T13:44:45.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smartboard Reflection</title><content type='html'>I liked the smartboard in the classroom more than not having the smartboard in the room is because with it in the room we could do presentations without having to bring in the projector,laptop and pulling the screen down. We could just log on to the computer and click on the presentation and then present. The centeo's were also really cool and I think almost everybody enjoyed them and the smartboard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-865768935920916015?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/865768935920916015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=865768935920916015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/865768935920916015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/865768935920916015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2009/06/smartboard-reflection.html' title='Smartboard Reflection'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-4283839767289573163</id><published>2009-05-08T09:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T09:57:57.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Day</title><content type='html'>My favorite day is when my mom and I went to Disneyland! We traveled their on a plane and when we got there we were really tired and hungry, so we ate supper in the restaurant at the hotel. After that we just watched TV and slept. The next day we went to Disneyland theme park and rode some of thee rides most of the rides had really long lines so we only got to ride a few them that day but it was still fun. That night we walked over to the local convenience store to get some food because the hotels food was too expensive! The next day we walked around the Disneyland Park and found a Quiznos and their subs were really good and every time we ate there I had the meat sub it had Bacon, Pepperoni, Ham, and Turkey on it. Our goal was to ride every single ride there and we did, our favorite ride was California  Screamin’ because it sends you from zero to sixty mph in half a second, and then it spins and twirls and does an upside down loop. The next day we went to Vans Skate Park it was really fun and it was based on a place off of Tony Hawks American Wasteland it’s a video game. The week was over and we had to go home so we checked out of our hotel and rode the vacations bus to the Los Angeles airport, that airport had state of the art security devices. The plane that we got on was the nicest plane I have ever seen in my life; the meals there were really good. When we got home it just didn’t seem the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; By: Emerson Gaber     The End&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edited by: Brett Kentz, Jacob Banin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-4283839767289573163?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4283839767289573163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=4283839767289573163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/4283839767289573163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/4283839767289573163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-favorite-day_08.html' title='My Favorite Day'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-7720095595499576941</id><published>2009-04-03T12:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T12:17:46.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Robbed a bank in a gorilla suit</title><content type='html'>Name: Stan Stoluck&lt;br /&gt;Where: New Jersey, Manitoba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I went to the costume store and got the gorilla suit and drove to the bank and when I got there I yelled “Everyone get on the floor!” then I grabbed the cashier by the collar and said “Gimme the money!” Then she said “Gimme, Gimme, never gets don’t you know your manners yet.” Then she oped the cashier because I had a mean look in my eyes. I grabbed the money out of her hands and then I ran to my car and drove to my cosins Dimitri’s house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-7720095595499576941?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7720095595499576941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=7720095595499576941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/7720095595499576941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/7720095595499576941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2009/04/robbed-bank-in-gorilla.html' title='Robbed a bank in a gorilla suit'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-2012768727508649653</id><published>2009-01-16T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T07:32:51.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Over the holidays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.edupics.com/en-coloring-pictures-pages-photo-christmas-tree-p10338.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 404px" alt="" src="http://www.edupics.com/en-coloring-pictures-pages-photo-christmas-tree-p10338.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was one of the best Christmas’ ever. My mom and I headed up to my grandparents house on Christmas day. We had lunch as soon as we got there and after lunch we started opening presents, I got guitar hero 4, Pure, Shaun White snowboarding, two calendars, and Far Cry 2. I played my Xbox 360 The rest of the day, and on the day after Christmas we headed home. When we got home we started working on my room which we were redoing. By that night I was moved back into my room. I can’t wait until next Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Years eve was the most fun of them all. I spent new years eve at my friends house. We played video games the rest of the night. I got home at 4:00 am and went to bed at 5:00 am and then got up at 2:00 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Editers:Andrew s., Jesse buettner, and Jakob.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-2012768727508649653?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2012768727508649653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=2012768727508649653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/2012768727508649653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/2012768727508649653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/over-holidays.html' title='Over the holidays'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-3790404893563356552</id><published>2008-12-03T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T09:43:23.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbara</title><content type='html'>Last month a lady named Barbara and some assistants came to St. Gregory and had the kids make little paper boxes so that she could make a city out of them. All of us thought that there would be a huge city out of them with huge skyscrapers and medium buildings. But it was a huge let down when we found that the boxes had been place on pieces of cardboard, when we all thought that there was going to be a huge city made out of them. I rate it 2 out of 5 stars because she gave us a really really big let down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-3790404893563356552?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3790404893563356552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=3790404893563356552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/3790404893563356552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/3790404893563356552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/barbara.html' title='Barbara'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-935402655137326944</id><published>2008-12-03T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T09:44:03.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bob Boyer</title><content type='html'>Bob Boyer was born in 1948. He died at a pow wow on august, 30, 2004. He graduated from the University of Regina with a bachelor’s degree in art education he never thought he would be a famous artist and have his paintings scattered throughout Canada. Some of his pieces are in the Mackenzie art gallery, Seen at St. Victors, Self Portrait as Twins, a Seven Arrow Storm, and a Smallpox Issue. I rate it 4 out of 5 stars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-935402655137326944?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/935402655137326944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=935402655137326944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/935402655137326944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/935402655137326944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2008/12/bob-boyer.html' title='Bob Boyer'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-1443706047744781450</id><published>2008-11-20T09:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T09:31:05.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cut and paste</title><content type='html'>When I leave this place I'll pick a fight with roger stevens. Seven trumpets I fly a mountain in a park. I'll kill a shark with a suitcase of nails. I'm dead in the head! The burd burns Shel Silverstien. The grass grows where the sidewalk ends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-1443706047744781450?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1443706047744781450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=1443706047744781450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/1443706047744781450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/1443706047744781450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/cut-and-paste.html' title='cut and paste'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-3840743508417965569</id><published>2008-11-20T08:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T08:54:56.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ballet Review</title><content type='html'>Ballet Review&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; EXRTA, EXTRA St. Gregory went to the youth ballet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I expected to see almost all rock music but there was only one rock song which was at the very end. The dancers weren’t very synchronized to the music it was like dancers falling with style! The music by Queen was good although they had lots of different kinds of music and different kinds of dancing like the traditional dance which had the prince and the princess dancing together and being the prince requires you to lift weights and lift the princess above his head. In one of the dances one of the girls skirt fell down. You don’t need very much skill to do the stuff they were doing. I give it a 2 out of 4 stars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-3840743508417965569?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3840743508417965569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=3840743508417965569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/3840743508417965569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/3840743508417965569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/ballet-review.html' title='Ballet Review'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-270957823045608686</id><published>2008-11-18T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T09:35:36.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Haiku Poem</title><content type='html'>I ran down the street&lt;br /&gt;The trees flew by so quickly&lt;br /&gt;The wind flew by so fast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By:Emerson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-270957823045608686?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/270957823045608686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=270957823045608686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/270957823045608686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/270957823045608686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/haiku-poem.html' title='Haiku Poem'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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-8748223852964063923.post-3812316938393233713</id><published>2008-11-05T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T09:40:57.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr and Mrs Atherton</title><content type='html'>Mr. and Mrs. Atherton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. and Mrs. Atherton were any ordinary couple with an extraordinary house. They lived in Britain in 1711. They were companioned by there dog. The dog didn’t have a name though. Their dog had black spots with a golden orange coat. They had a fireplace, five chairs, one table, one dresser, and a few windows. They had a bathroom with a tinted window; the bathroom had a French bathtub and one very dim light. Their floor was made of wood, and the walls were to. Mrs. Atherton sat around on a chair most of the day because, her dress was so hard to walk around in to do the chores. Mr. Atherton was on his feet most of the day because, he had to do the chores. His wife couldn’t help him because she was wearing the big clunky dress. But when he wasn’t doing the chores he would be sitting at the table having tea with his wife. There dog would sit on the floor most of the day watching Mrs. Atherton but sometimes the dog would run into the entrance like he was chasing something. Every time the dog would do that they would think the dog was crazy! But, one day that all changed! The bench in the corner started wiggling back and forth. At first they thought it was the wind, but the wind couldn’t move a forty pound chair. So they went to the town and told everybody who would listen. Nobody believed them, but one person told them that they could ask a psychic. So they went to a psychic. And she told them that it could be a ghost. She said the only way to get rid of the ghost is to burn dead grass and leather, and to spread the smoke throughout the house on November.16th but it was November.23rd so they had to wait a whole entire year before they could get rid of the ghost. So they waited and waited until it was November.15th and they picked lots of dead grass and a few pieces of leather and then on November.16th they started burning all the dead grass and leather and they spread the smoke throughout the house. After that, the dog never barked or ran into the front entrance, and the chairs and benches stopped moving and everything was back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By:Emerson                Edited by: Andrew.W, Grayson, Ashton&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8748223852964063923-3812316938393233713?l=emersonsstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3812316938393233713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8748223852964063923&amp;postID=3812316938393233713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/3812316938393233713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8748223852964063923/posts/default/3812316938393233713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emersonsstories.blogspot.com/2008/11/mr-and-mrs-atherton.html' title='Mr and Mrs Atherton'/><author><name>Emerson's Stories</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11216405254578415626</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>
