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	<title>Todd R. Townsend</title>
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	<description>Sailor, Writer, Wanderer</description>
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		<title>The Smell of Cobblestones.</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/12/the-smell-of-cobblestones/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/12/the-smell-of-cobblestones/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 12 Dec 2011 17:57:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Tale Waggin']]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=629</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[He had never told her that he spoke Spanish. It was a guilty pleasure to listen to her speak it. They had walked arm in arm for weeks, through the plazas of Cartagena&#8217;s old city. Her broken English sufficed when they talked. Her Spanish melted the hard edges of his frozen heart when he only [...]]]></description>
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		<title>New Review</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/12/new-review/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/12/new-review/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 12 Dec 2011 01:41:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Music]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=622</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My dream job is listening to and writing about music.  Occasionally, I get to do this dream job volunteering over at WYCE on the CD Review Crew.  In order to get some momentum back for writing season, I thought I post my latest review here.  If you&#8217;re quick and run over to the WYCE Music [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Esquire Fail</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/10/esquire-fail/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/10/esquire-fail/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 26 Oct 2011 19:26:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Tale Waggin']]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=609</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Esquire Magazine is 78 years old. They decided to celebrate by having a writing contest; a 78 word short short story contest. Apparently, Colum McCann, or whoever is vetting for him, didn&#8217;t like mine. That&#8217;s cool. I have started a deliciously crazy love/hate relationship with Flash Fiction [a buzz word for short short fiction].  One [...]]]></description>
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		<title>My man, Spike.</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/10/my-man-spike/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/10/my-man-spike/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 21 Oct 2011 02:17:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=601</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Damien had his numbers &#8211; the mark of the beast.  There are days I think I&#8217;m just a mark.  I&#8217;ve got one of those faces that panhandlers seem to love; the mark of a sucker.  It doesn&#8217;t help that I decided a few years ago to greet people.  I tend to wander the earth face [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Pancho&#8217;s Fish Fry</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/09/panchos-fish-fry/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/09/panchos-fish-fry/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 05 Sep 2011 14:49:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Greatest Hits]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[I swear]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=582</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#160; In 1995 or so, I lost the tip of my finger. I was rebuilding a thermoforming machine and the weight of a large gear assembly shifted. WHAM! It just clipped a tiny chunk of fingertip on a funky angle, but I came out of the Emergency Room with a bandage on my middle finger [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Pony League Football</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/08/pony-league-football/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/08/pony-league-football/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 28 Aug 2011 16:25:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Rambling]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Real World]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Think and Feel]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=575</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I was a sorrowful, ridiculous sight standing on the football field with uncomfortable shoulder pads and an oversized jersey soured from years of too much sweat and too little washing.  And pants two sizes too big.  A coach had tried to tape the pads and pants around my thighs to hold them up, but the [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Kitchen Table Drunk</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/08/kitchen-table-drunk/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/08/kitchen-table-drunk/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 28 Aug 2011 02:30:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Nonsense]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[On The Road]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=563</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I was digging through my notebooks to find something else, but ran across this strange verse.  Its either just an angry poem or the germ of a country song.  Not sure how it came out this way exactly, but there&#8217;s some juicy bits in there. Some food for thought. It was written some lonely night [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The Warthog Princess</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/05/the-warthog-princess/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/05/the-warthog-princess/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 23 May 2011 19:27:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA['riting in retail]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Real World]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=541</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Self righteousness wafted about her like the musk of a warthog. Her nose, more like a snout with each step, inclined as she lumbered toward me.  She smiled conspiratorially and I half expected tusks to spring from under her ample cheeks.  I shook my head in an effort to lose the vision of wallow mud [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
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		<title>Panther in an herbal jungle.</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/04/panther-in-an-herbal-jungle/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/04/panther-in-an-herbal-jungle/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 27 Apr 2011 15:21:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA['riting in retail]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=525</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Even in the yellowy commercial lighting, way up in the ceiling, she glowed with confidence and beauty.  She was stunning.  With each step, her jet black hair, like a panther&#8217;s coat, shuffled and twitched with a motion all its own, waves of light shimmied down its length.  She was oriental, vaguely Japanese, and extraordinary.  The [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>I am the Ostrich, goo goo g&#8217;joob.</title>
		<link>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/04/i-am-the-ostrich-goo-goo-gjoob/</link>
		<comments>http://toddrtownsend.net/2011/04/i-am-the-ostrich-goo-goo-gjoob/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 11 Apr 2011 19:53:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>trt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA['riting in retail]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toddrtownsend.net/?p=521</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[She was friendly enough, perhaps.  Standing at the door, at attention, she greeted customers with military precision.  Leaning in toward the anticipated customers, who would enter next through the automatic doors, like hogs in a slaughterhouse.  She stared unblinkingly at the inside of the door &#8211; waiting.  She did nearly nothing else.  If she wrangled [...]]]></description>
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