<?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-5600894</id><updated>2011-05-04T00:28:18.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SBTB: Junior Year</title><subtitle type='html'>SBTB: Junior Year</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-114133718909759127</id><published>2006-03-02T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T14:06:29.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Wrestlemania!Female wrestler Kristy Barnes rolls into Bayside to teach everyone a Very Important Lesson about gender roles. So Important is this Lesson, as it turns out, that there is no time for Jessie to learn that "pigism" isn't actually a word, nor for the rest of us to learn why Coach Sonski has a mysterious accent straight outta Newark. But at least we all now know how to escape a choke </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/114133718909759127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/114133718909759127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114133718909759127' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-114133711540783752</id><published>2006-03-02T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T14:13:50.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Bullshit Aptitude TestSharpen those No. 2 pencils, kids, and get ready to wade through the bullshit! If this episode is to be believed, taking the SATs is the most important thing you'll ever do in your life (ever), colleges pay no attention to students' grades or activities and offer scholarship packages that include cars, caesar salads come with anchovies, people will believe you're from </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/114133711540783752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/114133711540783752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114133711540783752' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-111685946952479522</id><published>2005-05-23T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T07:44:29.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>All we are saying is give chocolate-covered grasshoppers a chanceThe Earth experiences a seismic shift of record proportions after Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and Susan B. Anthony collectively roll over in their graves upon witnessing the weak-ass plastic foam protest planned by Jessie and Graham. Elsewhere, Zack is apparently too consumed with the task of trying to outwit Belding and sneak </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/111685946952479522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/111685946952479522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111685946952479522' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-110895923599198367</id><published>2005-02-20T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T08:31:37.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>College girls are easyZack meets a desperate 35-year-old "college student" at the Max, and she takes him and the guys to the club where all the desperate 35-year-old "college students" hang out. And what do you know? They run into The Sketchinator, cheating on Kelly! What are the odds? Of course, Zack fails to consider the fact that his mom is also part of the over-35 set, and therefore the odds </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/110895923599198367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/110895923599198367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html#110895923599198367' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-108706462194207144</id><published>2004-06-12T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-12T11:23:41.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Even puppies need trainersJessie's evil (and not entirely unattractive) stepbrother comes to town, intent on sexually harassing Lisa and one-upping preppy puppy Zack and his lover--er, trainer, Slater.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108706462194207144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108706462194207144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108706462194207144' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-108706441250327949</id><published>2004-06-12T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-12T11:20:12.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>That's Ms. Chick to youOr is it Mr. Chick? All we know is, in this episode, Jessie claims that if she were a guy, she'd punch her evil stepbrother. And then...she punches him. Yeah, you don't have to be a mathematician to add that one up. Even the math-challenged Lisa Turtle could figure it out.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108706441250327949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108706441250327949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108706441250327949' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-108316529565686356</id><published>2004-04-28T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:49:18.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Let's take a trip to the Wild West, Bayside styleConsidering that the Bayside universe is approximately the size of a postage stamp, is it any wonder that Zack is constantly running into his ex and the guy she dumped him for? After trying to make Kelly jealous by dancing with a member of the tribe of the orange scrunchie at the Max, Zack realizes there's only one thing to do: He challenges The </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108316529565686356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108316529565686356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108316529565686356' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-108316314895016604</id><published>2004-04-28T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:49:52.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Welcome to the meat marketThe Carlton Banks of Bayside High makes Lisa feel like an airhead, which is totally unfair because he's not even that smart. (Judging by his pronunciation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, he obviously thinks the book takes place at a college in Indiana.) Also, Jessie continues to be a psycho (although we kind of see her point this time), and Zack learns a Very Important </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108316314895016604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108316314895016604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108316314895016604' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-108316162533191693</id><published>2004-04-28T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:50:44.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Lisa Turtle: The thing malpractice suits are made ofZack suffers a near-fatal injury after...um, running into Mr. Belding in the locker room. Fortunately, he's under the care of the most incompetent candy striper in Bayside Hospital history, Lisa Turtle. Go into the light, Zack! And take Lisa with you before she harms any more patients.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108316162533191693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/108316162533191693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108316162533191693' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881058690774270</id><published>2003-07-21T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:51:21.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>How am I supposed to...sing when your face is so freaking close to mine?Zack and Kelly have a heart-wrenching breakup on "their" picnic table, during which Zack quotes lines from his hit song "Did We Ever Have a Chance." Meanwhile, Jessie gets up in Slater's face and makes a dying-cow noise that I guess we're supposed to assume is singing. Is it just me, or was she not this bad when she was in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881058690774270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881058690774270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881058690774270' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881047697172916</id><published>2003-07-21T11:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:52:16.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Peace on earth, and goodwill to all the good-looking homeless peopleMore Christmas spirit, as the gang pimps Moody's Store for Men using some really awful British accents in the loosest adaptation of Dickens ever. Oh, and they also befriend some token homeless people.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881047697172916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881047697172916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881047697172916' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881049017109474</id><published>2003-07-21T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:51:50.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jingle Bells, Bayside smellsIt's Christmas, which means it's time for the gang to learn some important lessons. Like how to tape the bottom of a box before you wrap it. And how you shouldn't buy a doll that pees all over you.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881049017109474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881049017109474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881049017109474' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881043207029203</id><published>2003-07-21T11:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:53:20.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Palm Springs II: Revenge of the Aerobics BimboJessie learns that two fake headaches, a cancelled dinner, an attempted drowning and a few semi-mean insults are not enough to get a wedding cancelled, so she finally gives in. But not before she traipses around the golf course looking like Mary Poppins.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881043207029203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881043207029203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881043207029203' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881044844019075</id><published>2003-07-21T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:52:51.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jessie is so, so scared....that her stepmom is an Aerobics Bimbo!!The gang heads to Palm Springs for the wedding of Jessie's dad. Jessie acts like a royal [bleep], Slater meets the princess of a made-up country, Zack hooks up with Kelly (but only after trying to get with Jessie's future stepmom), and Screech says stuff like "I hear ya, blood!"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881044844019075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881044844019075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881044844019075' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881034499094828</id><published>2003-07-21T10:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:59:01.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Let's Stay Together Baby and be Friends ForeverThe Zack Attack struggles against the odds to achieve worldwide success, then hits rock bottom with a painful breakup but eventually reunites for a reunion tour. And all in only 30 minutes! And with some fabulous sequined outfits! And without Jessie!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881034499094828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881034499094828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881034499094828' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881038063389698</id><published>2003-07-21T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:53:42.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I still haven't found what I'm looking for (at the mall)It's nearly Sunday, bloody Sunday at the mall as the gang finds $5,000 in fake money and gets chased by some thugs. Oh, and Zack cooks up a plan for scalping some U2 tickets that is not at all illegal in any way.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881038063389698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881038063389698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881038063389698' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881032126454449</id><published>2003-07-21T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T10:00:17.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Only users lose drugsThere's no hope with dope! According to the Bayside gang and the late great Brandon Tartikoff, that is. However, Totally Made-Up Famous Movie Star Johnny Dakota begs to differ.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881032126454449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881032126454449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881032126454449' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881024229065310</id><published>2003-07-21T10:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T10:02:09.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Chesski VictorynovichScandal and intrigue (not to mention gambling, assault, robbery, and kidnapping) run rampant at Bayside as Screech prepares to take on Valley's Russian exchange student in a chess championship.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881024229065310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881024229065310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881024229065310' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881027992285817</id><published>2003-07-21T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T10:01:38.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Murder, mayhem &amp; a mango tonic with a kiwi twistIt's the murder-mystery episode. Need we say more?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881027992285817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881027992285817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881027992285817' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600894.post-105881020572664394</id><published>2003-07-21T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T10:02:32.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Is that an oil derrick in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?The gang rescues some much-beloved oak trees that the rest of us have never seen from the hands of a Chris-Noth-lookalike in a string tie. Which doesn't matter much because their beloved pond animals already bit the big one in an oil spill. Tally-HO!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881020572664394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5600894/posts/default/105881020572664394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sbtbjunioryear.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105881020572664394' title=''/><author><name>Clare</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00294132748092443727</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></entry></feed>
