<?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-8093066823101002061</id><updated>2011-04-22T05:08:57.725+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokesareus - Humour</title><subtitle type='html'>Humour &amp; Jokes</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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>82</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8093066823101002061.post-4896895299672011126</id><published>2010-03-24T23:25:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T23:29:06.956+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Fwd: Nancy Reagan</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=4&gt;&lt;b&gt;We could all learn so much from this elegant and gracious lady.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=5&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=4&gt;&lt;b&gt;You might recall that John Hinckley was a seriously deranged young &lt;br&gt; man who shot President Reagan in the early 1980's.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=5&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=4&gt;Hinckley was &lt;br&gt; absolutely obsessed with movie star Jodie Foster and, in his twisted mind, &lt;br&gt; loved Jodie to the point that to make himself well known to her, &lt;br&gt; he attempted to assassinate President Reagan.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=5&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=4&gt;There is speculation Hinckley may soon be released having been rehabilitated. &lt;br&gt; Consequently, you will appreciate the following letter from Nancy Reagan to John Hinckley.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=5&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=4 color="#001FE2"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;To: John&amp;nbsp; Hinckley&lt;br&gt; From: Mrs. Nancy Reagan&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; My family and I wanted&amp;nbsp; to drop you a short note to tell you how pleased &lt;br&gt; we are with the great strides you are making in your recovery. &lt;br&gt; In our country's spirit of understanding and forgiveness, we want you to know &lt;br&gt; that we bear no grudge against you for shooting President Reagan. &lt;br&gt; We are fully aware that mental stress and pain could have driven you to &lt;br&gt; such an act of desperation. We're confident that you will soon make a complete &lt;br&gt; recovery and return to your family to join the world again as a healthy and productive man.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Best wishes,&lt;br&gt; Nancy Reagan &amp;amp; Family&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; P.S. While you have been incarcerated, Kevin Rudd has been banging Jodie Foster &lt;br&gt; like a screen door in a tornado. You might want to look into that.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=5&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4896895299672011126?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4896895299672011126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4896895299672011126&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4896895299672011126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4896895299672011126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2010/03/fwd-nancy-reagan.html' title='Fwd: Nancy Reagan'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2152561955578534285</id><published>2010-01-07T22:32:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:32:25.292+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;b&gt;SECURITY ALERT&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt; The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have raised their security level from &amp;quot;Miffed&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Peeved.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to &amp;quot;Irritated&amp;quot; or even &amp;quot;A Bit Cross.&amp;quot; Londoners have not been &amp;quot;A Bit Cross&amp;quot; since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from &amp;quot;Tiresome&amp;quot; to a &amp;quot;Bloody Nuisance.&amp;quot; The last time the British issued a &amp;quot;Bloody Nuisance&amp;quot; warning level was during the great fire of 1666. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Also, the French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from &amp;quot;Run&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Hide.&amp;quot; The only two higher levels in France are &amp;quot;Surrender&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Collaborate.&amp;quot; The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; It's not only the English and French that are on a heightened level of alert. Italy has increased the alert level from &amp;quot;Shout Loudly and Excitedly&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Elaborate Military Posturing.&amp;quot; Two more levels remain: &lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Ineffective Combat Operations&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Change Sides.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual, and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Germans also increased their alert state from &amp;quot;Disdainful Arrogance&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs.&amp;quot; They also have two higher levels: &amp;quot;Invade a Neighbour&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Lose.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2152561955578534285?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2152561955578534285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2152561955578534285&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2152561955578534285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2152561955578534285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2010/01/security-alert-english-are-feeling.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-8200598347712952616</id><published>2010-01-07T22:29:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:29:48.459+11:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mate of mine told me this...</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Verdana" size=7 color="#800000"&gt;A true Bundy Rum Fishing Story&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=4 color="#800000"&gt;BUNDY RUM (Bundaberg Rum)&amp;nbsp; =&amp;nbsp; Queensland's famous product! Forget Jamaica or any other rubbish! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=5 color="#800000"&gt;A Mate of mine told me this story and &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size=5 color="#800000"&gt;swears it's &lt;i&gt;Fair dinkum.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size=3 color="#800000"&gt;Here's what he told me:&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=4 color="#800000"&gt;I finally got around to going fishing this morning but after a while I ran out of worms.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Then I saw a King Brown (For you overseas people..a King Brown is one of the deadliest snakes on earth) with a frog in his mouth, and frogs are good bass bait. Knowing the snake couldn't bite me with the frog in his mouth, I grabbed him right behind the head, took the frog and put it in my bait bucket.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Now the dilemma was how to release the snake without getting bitten. I grabbed my bottle of Bundaberg rum and poured a little rum in its mouth.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His eyes rolled back, he went limp, I released him into the lake without incident, and carried on my fishing with the frog.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A little later I felt a nudge on my foot.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; There was that same snake with two frogs in his mouth.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt; &lt;font size=3&gt;Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-8200598347712952616?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/8200598347712952616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=8200598347712952616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8200598347712952616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8200598347712952616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2010/01/mate-of-mine-told-me-this.html' title='A Mate of mine told me this...'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2772375999105229707</id><published>2009-07-15T20:17:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T20:22:30.471+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Fw: How Marriage works</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote type=cite class=cite cite=""&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;A newlywed couple had only been married for two weeks.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The husband, although very much in love, couldn't wait to go out on&lt;br&gt; the town and party with his old buddies ...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So, he said to his new wife, 'Honey, I'll be right back.'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 'Where are you going, honey bunch?' asked the wife.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 'I'm going to the bar, pretty face.&amp;nbsp; I'm going to have a beer.'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The wife said, 'You want a beer, my love?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She went and opened the door to the refrigerator and showed him 25&lt;br&gt; different kinds of beer brands from 12 different countries: Germany ,&lt;br&gt; Holland , Japan , India ,etc.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The husband didn't know what to do, and the only thing that he could&lt;br&gt; think of saying was, 'Yes, lolly pop...but at the bar...you&lt;br&gt; know...they have frozen glasses...'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He didn't get to finish the sentence, because the wife interrupted him&lt;br&gt; by saying,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 'You want a frozen glass, puppy face?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She took a huge beer mug out of the freezer, so frozen that she was&lt;br&gt; getting chills just holding it.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The husband, looking a bit pale, said, 'Yes, tootsie roll, but at the&lt;br&gt; Bar they have those hors d'oeuvres that are really delicious... I&lt;br&gt; won't be long, I'll be right back. I promise. OK?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; You want hors d'oeuvres, poochi pooh?' She opened the oven and took&lt;br&gt; out 5 dishes of different hors d'oeuvres: chicken wings, pigs in&lt;br&gt; blankets, mushroom caps, pork strips, etc.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 'But my sweet honey... At the bar... You know...there's swearing,&lt;br&gt; dirty words and all that...'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 'You want dirty words, Dickhead? Drink your f***ing beer in your&lt;br&gt; Goddamn frozen mug and eat your motherf***ing snacks, because you are&lt;br&gt; Married now, and you aren't f***ing going anywhere!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Got it,&lt;br&gt; A**hole?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So he stayed home............&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ........and, they lived happily ever after.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt; Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2772375999105229707?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2772375999105229707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2772375999105229707&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2772375999105229707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2772375999105229707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2009/07/fw-how-marriage-works.html' title='Fw: How Marriage works'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4503244253429319107</id><published>2009-06-24T12:03:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T12:03:26.539+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Fwd: Crocs</title><content type='html'>&lt;dl&gt; &lt;dl&gt; &lt;dl&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;dd&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=4&gt;Two Crocodiles were sitting at the side of&lt;/font&gt; lake burleigh griffith&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=4&gt;The smaller one turned to the bigger one and said, 'I can't understand how&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;you can be so much bigger than me. We're the same age, we were the same size&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;as kids. I just don't get it.'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;'Well,' said the big Croc, 'what have you been eating?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;'Politicians, same as you,' replied the small Croc.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;'Hmm. Well, where do you catch them?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;'Down the other side of the river near the parking lot by the Houses of Parliament .'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;'Same here. Hmm.. How do you catch them?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;'Well, I crawl up under one of their utes and wait for one to unlock&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;the car door.&amp;nbsp; Then I jump out, grab them by the leg, shake the shit out of&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;them and eat 'em!'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt; &lt;dd&gt;'Ah!' says the big Crocodile, 'I think I see your problem. You're not&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=4&gt;getting any real nourishment. &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;See, by the time you finish shaking the shit&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;out of a Politician, there's nothing left but an arsehole and a briefcase.'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/dl&gt; &lt;/dl&gt; &lt;/dl&gt;Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4503244253429319107?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4503244253429319107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4503244253429319107&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4503244253429319107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4503244253429319107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2009/06/fwd-crocs.html' title='Fwd: Crocs'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-985072266881863437</id><published>2009-03-24T22:50:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T22:50:55.403+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Fw: Full Disclosure...it's the LAW!</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote type=cite class=cite cite=""&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3 color="#000080"&gt;The law says you must give full disclosure of any problems with a house when you sell it.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20090324224859.028d28a8@ebearweb.net.1" width=640 height=480 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-985072266881863437?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/985072266881863437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=985072266881863437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/985072266881863437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/985072266881863437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2009/03/fw-full-disclosureits-law.html' title='Fw: Full Disclosure...it&apos;s the LAW!'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-1752474826908585650</id><published>2009-01-27T17:34:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T17:35:13.790+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Fw: Blonde</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Century Gothic, Avant Garde" size=3 color="#800080"&gt; You are blonde and on a bus, when you suddenly fart.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Luckily the music is very loud.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So every time you fart, you time it with the music.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; When you start making your way to the door as you exit the bus&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Everybody is throwing dagger looks at you, and you suddenly realize.&lt;br&gt; ..........&lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; . &lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; .&lt;br&gt; You're listening to your I-pod&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt; &lt;font size=3&gt;Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-1752474826908585650?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/1752474826908585650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=1752474826908585650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1752474826908585650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1752474826908585650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2009/01/fw-blonde.html' title='Fw: Blonde'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-8507608195088658069</id><published>2008-08-22T23:08:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:53:29.449+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Fw: Australian Letter of the Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote type=cite class=cite cite=""&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;Australian Letter of the Year&lt;br&gt; &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;dl&gt; &lt;dl&gt; &lt;dl&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;Dear Mr. Minister,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;I'm in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe this.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;How is it that K-Mart has my address and telephone number, and knows that I bought a Television Set and Golf Clubs from them back in 1997, and yet, the&amp;nbsp; Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;My birth date you have in my Medicare information, and it is on all the income tax forms I've filed for the past 40 years. It is on my driver's&amp;nbsp; licence, on the last eight passports I've ever had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before being allowed&amp;nbsp; off the planes over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that I've filled out every 5 years since 1966.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;Also..would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's name is Audrey, my Father's name is Jack, and I'd be absolutely fucking astounded if that ever changed between now and when I drop dead!!!...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;SHIT!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;I apologize, Mr. Minister. But I'm really pissed off this morning. Between you an' me, I've had enough of all this bullshit! You send the application to my house, then you ask me for my fucking address!! What the hell is going on with your mob?&amp;nbsp; Have you got a gang of mindless Neanderthal arseholes workin' there!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;And another thing, look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I can't even grow a beard for God's sakes. I just want to go to New Zealand&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; and see my new granddaughter. (Yes, my son interbred with a Kiwi girl). And would someone please tell me, why would you give a shit whether I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days?&amp;nbsp; If I ever got the urge to do something weird to a sheep or a horse, believe you me, I'd sure as hell not want to tell anyone!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;Well, I have to go now, 'cause I have to go to the other end of the city, and get another fucking copy of my birth certificate, and to part with another $80 for the privilege of accessing MY OWN INFORMATION! &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot, to assist in the issuance of a new passport on the same day?? Nooooo.. that'd be too fucking easy and makes far too much sense.&amp;nbsp; You would much prefer to have us running all over the place like chickens with our fucking heads cut off, and then having to find some high society wanker to confirm that it's really me in the goddamn photo! You know the photo..the one where we're not allowed to smile?! ...you fucking morons&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;Signed - An Irate Australian Citizen.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;P.S Remember what I said above about the picture, and getting someone in high-society to confirm that it's me? Well, my family has been in this country since before 1850! &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;In 1856, one of my forefathers took up arms with Peter Lalor. (You do remember the Eureka Stockade!!)&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;I have also served in both the CMF and regular Army something over 30 years (I went to Vietnam in 1967), and still have high security clearances.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;I'm also a personal friend of the president of the RSL.. and Lt General Peter Cosgrove sends me a Christmas card each year.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;However, your rules require that I have to get someone 'important' to verify who I am; You know.. someone like my doctor; WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN FUCKING&lt;/b&gt; PAKISTAN!!!......a country where they either assassinate or hang their ex-Prime Ministers, and are suspended from the Commonwealth for not having the 'right sort of government.'&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;You are all Fucking idiots&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;dd&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;/dl&gt; &lt;/dl&gt; &lt;/dl&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt; Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; This week&amp;nbsp; Chaweng Beach.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&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/8093066823101002061-8507608195088658069?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/8507608195088658069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=8507608195088658069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8507608195088658069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8507608195088658069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/08/fw-australian-letter-of-year.html' title='Fw: Australian Letter of the Year'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-8174623244289528762</id><published>2008-08-22T10:38:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:53:29.453+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Fwd: NEW OFFICE POLICY</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote type=cite class=cite cite=""&gt;&lt;font size=3 color="#000080"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;DUE TO &lt;/u&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;u&gt;BUDGET CUTS, THIS IS YOUR NEW CUBICLE &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.9" width=751 height=563 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.10" width=758 height=568 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.11" width=764 height=573 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.12" width=768 height=576 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.13" width=773 height=580 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.14" width=779 height=584 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.15" width=774 height=581 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.16" width=768 height=1024 alt="[]"&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080822103622.06d09120@ebearweb.net.17" width=758 height=569 alt="[]"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; EFFECTIVE AUGUST 1, 2008&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; NEW OFFICE POLICY&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Dress Code:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 1) You are advised to come to work dressed according to&lt;br&gt; your salary.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 2) If we see you wearing Prada shoes and carrying a&lt;br&gt; Gucci bag, we will assume you are doing well financially&lt;br&gt; and therefore do not need a raise.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 3) If you dress poorly, you need to learn to manage your&lt;br&gt; money better, so that you may buy nicer clothes, and&lt;br&gt; therefore you do not need a raise.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 4) If you dress just right, you are right where you need&lt;br&gt; to be and therefore you do not need a raise.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Sick Days:&lt;br&gt; We will no longer accept a doctor's statement as proof&lt;br&gt; of sickness. If you are able to go to the doctor, you are able to come to work.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Personal Days:&lt;br&gt; Each employee will receive 104 personal days a year.&lt;br&gt; They are called Saturdays &amp;amp; Sundays.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; Bereavement Leave:&lt;br&gt; This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing&lt;br&gt; you can do for dead friends, relatives or co-workers. Every&lt;br&gt; effort should be made to have non-employees attend the&lt;br&gt; funeral arrangements in your place. In rare cases where&lt;br&gt; employee involvement is necessary, the funeral should be&lt;br&gt; scheduled in the late afternoon. We will be glad to&lt;br&gt; allow you to work through your lunch hour and&lt;br&gt; subsequently leave one hour early.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; Bathroom Breaks:&lt;br&gt; Entirely too much time is being spent in the toilet.&lt;br&gt; There is now a strict three-minute time limit in the&lt;br&gt; stalls. At the end of three minutes, an alarm will&lt;br&gt; sound, the toilet paper roll will retract, the stall&lt;br&gt; door will open, and a picture will be taken. After your&lt;br&gt; second offense, your picture will be posted on the&lt;br&gt; company bulletin board under the 'Chronic Offenders'&lt;br&gt; category. Anyone caught smiling in the picture will be&lt;br&gt; sectioned under the company's mental health policy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; Lunch Break: (Love this one)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; * Skinny people get 30 minutes for lunch, as they need&lt;br&gt; to eat more, so that they can look healthy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; * Normal size people get 15 minutes for lunch to get a&lt;br&gt; balanced meal to maintain their average figure.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; * Chubby people get 5 minutes for lunch, because that's&lt;br&gt; all the time needed to drink a Slim-Fast.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Thank you for your loyalty to our company. We are here&lt;br&gt; to provide a positive employment experience. Therefore,&lt;br&gt; all questions, comments, concerns, complaints,&lt;br&gt; frustrations, irritations, aggravations, insinuations,&lt;br&gt; allegations, accusations, contemplations, consternation&lt;br&gt; and input should be directed elsewhere.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; The Management &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt; Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; This week&amp;nbsp; Chaweng Beach.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-8174623244289528762?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/8174623244289528762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=8174623244289528762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8174623244289528762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8174623244289528762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/08/fwd-new-office-policy.html' title='Fwd: NEW OFFICE POLICY'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-8422419498611244655</id><published>2008-08-15T23:28:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T17:47:47.669+10:00</updated><title type='text'>FW: AT LAST!!!!!! - The Truth!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F_U41vLH3gs/SKWFxzV2GpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hAnJNy1Iwe8/s1600-h/image001-739376.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F_U41vLH3gs/SKWFxzV2GpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hAnJNy1Iwe8/s320/image001-739376.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234737232529988242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote type="cite" class="cite" cite=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week  Chaweng Beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-8422419498611244655?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/8422419498611244655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=8422419498611244655&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8422419498611244655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8422419498611244655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/08/fw-at-last-truth.html' title='FW: AT LAST!!!!!! - The Truth!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_F_U41vLH3gs/SKWFxzV2GpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hAnJNy1Iwe8/s72-c/image001-739376.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8093066823101002061.post-5338171515628730949</id><published>2008-08-14T11:45:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T17:47:17.519+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun4U: Presbyophrenia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; -=[----------------------------------------------------------------------]=-&lt;br /&gt;-=[   Fun4you a service of FuN - wOrLd - &lt;a href="http://www.hehe.at/funworld/%A0%A0%A0" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.hehe.at/funworld/   &lt;/a&gt; ]=-&lt;br /&gt;-=[   un/subscribe requests @ &lt;a href="http://www.hehe.at/funworld/fun4you.html%A0%A0" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.hehe.at/funworld/fun4you.html  &lt;/a&gt; ]=-&lt;br /&gt;-=[----------------------------------------------------------------------]=-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma &amp;amp; Grampa are sitting there watching TV when Grandpa decides he's&lt;br /&gt;    hungry for some ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Hey, Grandma - I'm gonna' head to the kitchen and get myself a dish of&lt;br /&gt;    ice cream. You want I should get you some, too?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Sure, Grandpa, sounds good. But you better write down what you're going&lt;br /&gt;    out there for or else you'll forget." replies Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "I will not!" retorts Grandpa. "In fact, tell me what you want on it and&lt;br /&gt;    I'll show you I can remember that, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "OK," says Grandma, "I'll have some chocolate sauce. But you're gonna'&lt;br /&gt;    forget..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Grandpa heads out to the kitchen and disappears for about 20 or 30 minutes,&lt;br /&gt;    accompanied by a cacaphonous banging of pots and pans. Finally he&lt;br /&gt;    emerges, carrying a plate of scrambled eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "See there, Grandpa. I told you you'd forget!" chides Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Whaddya' mean, 'forget,' Grandma? What did I forget?" demands Grandpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "You fool," says Grandma. "You forgot my bacon!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-=[-(r1451)--------------------------------------------------(lp:75.5%)--]=-&lt;br /&gt;-=[  latest jokes online at  &lt;a href="http://funworld.hehe.at/archive/?id=latest%20" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://funworld.hehe.at/archive/?id=latest &lt;/a&gt; ]=-&lt;br /&gt;-=[ NEW!  Go to &lt;a href="http://www.hehe.at/funworld/archive/1451%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0%A0" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.hehe.at/funworld/archive/1451                &lt;/a&gt; ]=-&lt;br /&gt;-=[       to rate this joke from 1 to 5.                                 ]=-&lt;br /&gt;-=[----------------------------------------------------------------------]=-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5338171515628730949?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5338171515628730949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5338171515628730949&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5338171515628730949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5338171515628730949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/08/fun4u-presbyophrenia.html' title='Fun4U: Presbyophrenia'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2558725331976735534</id><published>2008-08-03T17:37:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T22:08:09.749+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Fwd: True!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;From an annual contest at Texas A&amp;amp;M University calling for the most appropriate definition of a contemporary term.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year a definition was required for the contemporary term,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Political Correctness'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The winner wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Political Correctness is a doctrine, fostered by a delusional, &lt;b&gt;illogical minority,and rabidly promoted by an unscrupulous mainstream media, which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd by the clean end.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt; Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week  Chaweng Beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2558725331976735534?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2558725331976735534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2558725331976735534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2558725331976735534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2558725331976735534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/08/fwd-true.html' title='Fwd: True!!'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2619167254056826742</id><published>2008-07-29T22:38:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:43:00.405+10:00</updated><title type='text'>One Fine Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    One day, long, long ago...... there lived a woman who did not whine, nag or bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="cid:7.1.0.9.2.20080729223650.06cb4bf8@ebearweb.net.1" alt="[]" height="339" width="243" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this was a long time ago.......and it was just that one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2619167254056826742?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2619167254056826742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2619167254056826742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2619167254056826742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2619167254056826742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/07/one-fine-day.html' title='One Fine Day'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-9159183475978192289</id><published>2008-07-01T16:12:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T17:34:40.188+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour - Fresh Water</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Fresh Water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man is cupping his hand to scoop water from a highland stream in Scotland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gamekeeper spots him and shouts, 'Dinnae drink thon water min, it's foo o' coo's shite n pish.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replies, 'my good fellow, I'm English ... repeat that in English.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gamekeeper replies, 'I said use both hands - you get more that way.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;       &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them.&lt;br /&gt;Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way.&lt;br /&gt;The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;       &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updated regularly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-9159183475978192289?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/9159183475978192289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=9159183475978192289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/9159183475978192289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/9159183475978192289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/07/humour-fresh-water.html' title='Humour - Fresh Water'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-1856069856776582226</id><published>2008-05-05T22:36:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T17:34:10.557+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Fw: The haircut</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote type="cite" class="cite" cite=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000080;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;THE HAIRCUT !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt; One day a florist goes to a barber for a haircut. After the cut he asked about his bill and the barber replies,&lt;br /&gt; 'I cannot accept money from you. I'm doing community service this week.' The florist was pleased and left the shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the barber goes to open his shop the next morning there is a 'thank you' card and a dozen roses waiting for him at his door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, a cop comes in for a haircut, and when he tries to pay his bill, the barber again replies,&lt;br /&gt; 'I cannot accept money from you I'm doing community service this week.' The cop is happy and leaves the shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning when the barber goes to open up there is a 'thank you' card and a dozen donuts waiting for him at his door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day, a college professor comes in for a haircut, and when he tries to pay his bill, the barber again replies, 'I cannot accept money from you. I'm doing community service this week.' The professor is very happy and leaves the shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning when the barber opens his shop, there is a 'thank you' card and a dozen different books, such as 'How to Improve Your Business' and 'Becoming More Successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Then, an MP comes in for a haircut, and when he goes to pay his bill the barber again replies,&lt;br /&gt; 'I cannot accept money from you I'm doing community service this week.' The MP is very happy and leaves the shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning when the barber goes to open up, there are a dozen MPs lined up waiting for a free haircut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, my friends, illustrates the fundamental difference between the citizens of our country and the members of our Parliament.--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vote carefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;x-sigsep&gt;&lt;/x-sigsep&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Bujinkan: Martial Arts of the Samurai and Ninja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/bujinkan/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week  Chaweng Beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-1856069856776582226?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/1856069856776582226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=1856069856776582226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1856069856776582226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1856069856776582226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2008/05/fw-haircut.html' title='Fw: The haircut'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5175673572091700672</id><published>2007-08-20T18:16:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T18:16:34.514+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour</title><content type='html'>Words for 2007&lt;p&gt;SALAD DODGER&lt;br&gt;An excellent phrase for an overweight person.&lt;p&gt;SWAMP-DONKEY&lt;br&gt;A deeply unattractive person.&lt;p&gt;TESTICULATING&lt;p&gt;Waving your arms around and talking bollocks.&lt;p&gt;BLAMESTORMING&lt;br&gt;Sitting round in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a &lt;br&gt;Project failed, and who was responsible.&lt;p&gt;SEAGULL MANAGER&lt;br&gt;A manager who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, and &amp;hellip;&lt;br&gt;then leaves.&lt;p&gt;ASSMOSIS&lt;p&gt;The process by which people seem to absorb success and advancement by&lt;br&gt;sucking up to the boss rather than working hard.&lt;p&gt;SALMON DAY&lt;br&gt;The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get&lt;br&gt;screwed and die.&lt;p&gt;CUBE FARM&lt;br&gt;An office filled with cubicles.&lt;p&gt;PRAIRIE DOGGING&lt;br&gt;When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube farm, and people&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;heads pop up over the walls to see what&amp;#39;s going on. (This also applies to&lt;br&gt;applause for a promotion because there may be cake.)&lt;p&gt;SITCOMs&lt;br&gt;Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. What yuppies turn into&lt;br&gt;when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with &lt;br&gt;the kids or start a &amp;quot;home business&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;SINBAD&lt;br&gt;Single working girls. Single income, no boyfriend and desperate.&lt;p&gt;AEROPLANE BLONDE&lt;br&gt;One who has bleached/dyed her hair but still has a &amp;#39;black box&amp;#39;.&lt;p&gt;PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE&lt;br&gt;The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to&lt;br&gt;work again.&lt;p&gt;ADMINISPHERE&lt;br&gt;The rarefied organisational layers beginning just above the rank and file.&lt;br&gt;Decisions that fall from the &amp;quot;adminisphere&amp;quot; are often profoundly&lt;br&gt;inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve.&lt;br&gt;This is often affiliated with the dreaded &amp;quot;administrivia&amp;quot; - needless&lt;br&gt;paperwork and processes.&lt;p&gt;GOING FOR A Mc****&lt;br&gt;Entering a fast food restaurant with no intention of buying food, you&amp;#39;re&lt;br&gt;just going to the bog. If challenged by a pimply staff member, your&lt;br&gt;declaration to them that you&amp;#39;ll buy their food afterwards is known as a&lt;br&gt;Mc**** with Lies.&lt;p&gt;404&lt;br&gt;Someone who&amp;#39;s clueless. From the World Wide Web error message &amp;quot;404 Not&lt;br&gt;Found&amp;quot; meaning that the requested document could not be located.&lt;p&gt;AUSSIE KISS&lt;br&gt;Similar to a French Kiss, but given down under.&lt;p&gt;OH - NO SECOND&lt;br&gt;That minuscule fraction of time in which you realize that you&amp;#39;ve just Made&lt;br&gt;a BIG mistake (e.g. you&amp;#39;ve hit &amp;#39;reply all&amp;#39;).&lt;p&gt;GREYHOUND&lt;br&gt;A very short skirt, only an inch from the hare.&lt;p&gt;JOHNNY-NO-STARS&lt;br&gt;A young man of substandard intelligence, the typical adolescent who works&lt;br&gt;in a burger restaurant. The &amp;#39;no-stars&amp;#39; comes from the badges displaying&lt;br&gt;stars that staff at fast-food restaurants often wear to show their level &lt;br&gt;of training.&lt;p&gt;MILLENNIUM DOMES&lt;br&gt;The contents of a Wonderbra, i.e. extremely impressive when viewed from &lt;br&gt;The outside, but there&amp;#39;s actually naught in there worth seeing.&lt;p&gt;MONKEYBATH&lt;br&gt;A bath so hot, that when lowering yourself in, you go: &amp;quot;Oo! Oo! Oo! Aa! &lt;br&gt;Aa!&lt;br&gt;Aa!&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;MYSTERY BUS&lt;p&gt;The bus that arrives at the pub on Friday night while you&amp;#39;re in the Toilet&lt;br&gt;after your 10th pint, and whisks away all the unattractive people so the&lt;br&gt;pub is suddenly packed with stunners when you come back in.&lt;p&gt;MYSTERY TAXI&lt;br&gt;The taxi that arrives at your place on Saturday morning before you wake &lt;br&gt;up, whisks away the stunner you slept with, and leaves a 10-Pinter in your &lt;p&gt;bed instead.&lt;p&gt;BEER COAT&lt;br&gt;The invisible but warm coat worn when walking home after a booze cruise At&lt;br&gt;3:00am.&lt;p&gt;BEER COMPASS&lt;br&gt;The invisible device that ensures your safe arrival home after booze&lt;br&gt;cruise, even though you&amp;#39;re too drunk to remember where you live, how you&lt;br&gt;got here, and where you&amp;#39;ve come from.&lt;p&gt;BREAKING THE SEAL&lt;br&gt;Your first pee in the pub, usually after 2 hours of drinking. After&lt;br&gt;breaking the seal of your bladder, repeat visits to the toilet will be&lt;br&gt;required every 10 or 15 minutes for the rest of the night.&lt;p&gt;TART FUEL&lt;br&gt;Bottled premixed spirits, regularly consumed by young women.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;PICASSO BUM&lt;br&gt;A woman whose knickers are too small for her, so she looks like she&amp;#39;s Got  &lt;p&gt;4 buttocks.&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.	.	.	.	.	.	.	.	.&lt;p&gt;Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt;Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt;The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let&amp;#39;s get this right folks , it&amp;#39;s an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;p&gt;.	.	.	.	.	.	.	.	.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Stephen&amp;#39;s Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/"&gt;http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;p&gt;Updated regularly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5175673572091700672?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5175673572091700672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5175673572091700672&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5175673572091700672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5175673572091700672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/humour_20.html' title='Humour'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2897043103893007780</id><published>2007-08-15T21:47:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T21:48:06.160+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Four rabbis had a series of theological arguments, and three were always in accord against the fourth.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; One day, the odd rabbi out, after the usual &amp;quot;3 to 1, majority rules&amp;quot; statement that signified that he had lost again, decided to appeal to a higher authority.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Oh, God!&amp;quot; he cried. &amp;quot;I know in my heart that I am right and they are wrong! Please give me a sign to prove it to them!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; It was a beautiful, sunny day. As soon as the rabbi finished his prayer, a storm cloud moved across the sky above the four. It rumbled once and dissolved. &amp;quot;A sign from God! See, I'm right, I knew it!&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; But the other three disagreed, pointing out that storm clouds form on hot days.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the rabbi prayed again: &amp;quot;Oh, God, I need a bigger sign to show that I am right and they are wrong. So please, God, a bigger sign!&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; This time four storm clouds appeared, rushed toward each other to form one big cloud, and a bolt of lightning slammed into a tree on a nearby hill.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I told you I was right!&amp;quot; cried the rabbi, but his friends insisted that nothing had happened that could not be explained by natural causes.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The rabbi was getting ready to ask for a *very big* sign, but just as he said, &amp;quot;Oh God...,&amp;quot; the sky turned pitch black, the earth shook, and a deep, booming voice intoned, &amp;quot;HEEEEEEEE'S RIIIIIIIGHT!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The rabbi put his hands on his hips, turned to the other three, and said, &amp;quot;Well?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;So,&amp;quot; shrugged one of the other rabbis, &amp;quot;now it's 3 to 2.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2897043103893007780?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2897043103893007780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2897043103893007780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2897043103893007780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2897043103893007780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/humour_143.html' title='Humour'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-7194814996212252918</id><published>2007-08-15T21:47:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T21:47:46.161+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A blind man is talking to his friend.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I recently went skydiving,&amp;quot; he told him proudly.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;How did *you* manage to go skydiving?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I just jumped out and went WHEEE!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well, how did you know when to pull the parachute cord?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;When the leash went limp ...&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-7194814996212252918?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/7194814996212252918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=7194814996212252918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7194814996212252918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7194814996212252918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/humour_9078.html' title='Humour'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2543183193498687124</id><published>2007-08-15T21:47:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T21:47:37.862+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp; Top 10 MOST BRILLIANT MARKETING BLUNDERS:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 1. Coors put its slogan, &amp;quot;Turn it loose,&amp;quot; into Spanish, where it was read as &amp;quot;Suffer from diarrhea.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 2. Scandinavian vacuum manufacturer Electrolux used the following in an American campaign: &amp;quot;Nothing sucks like an Electrolux.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 3. Clairol introduced the &amp;quot;Mist Stick&amp;quot;, a curling iron, into Germany only to find out that &amp;quot;mist&amp;quot; is slang for manure. Not too many people there wanted a &amp;quot;manure stick.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 4. When Gerber started selling baby food in Africa, they used the same packaging as in the U.S., with the beautiful Caucasian baby on the label. Later they learned that in Africa, companies routinely put pictures on the label of what's inside, since so many people there can't read.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 5. Colgate introduced a toothpaste in France called Cue, the name of a notorious porno magazine.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 6. An American T-shirt maker in Miami printed shirts for the Spanish market which promoted the Pope's visit. Instead of &amp;quot;I saw the Pope&amp;quot; (el Papa), the shirts read &amp;quot;I saw the potato&amp;quot; (la papa).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 7. Pepsi's &amp;quot;Come alive with the Pepsi Generation&amp;quot; translated into &amp;quot;Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the grave&amp;quot; in Chinese.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 8. Frank Perdue's chicken slogan, &amp;quot;it takes a strong man to make a tender chicken&amp;quot; was translated into Spanish as &amp;quot;it takes an aroused man to make a chicken affectionate.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 9. The Coca-Cola name in China was first read as &amp;quot;Ke-kou-ke-la&amp;quot;, meaning &amp;quot;Bite the wax tadpole&amp;quot; or &amp;quot;female horse stuffed with wax&amp;quot;, depending on the dialect. Coke then researched 40,000 characters to find a phonetic equivalent &amp;quot;ko-kou-ko-le&amp;quot;, translating into &amp;quot;happiness in the mouth.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 10. When Parker Pen marketed a ball-point pen in Mexico, its ads were supposed to have read, &amp;quot;it won't&lt;br&gt; leak in your pocket and embarrass you.&amp;quot; Instead, the company thought that the word &amp;quot;embarazar&amp;quot; (to impregnate) meant to embarrass, so the ad read: &amp;quot;It won't leak in your pocket and make you pregnant.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2543183193498687124?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2543183193498687124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2543183193498687124&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2543183193498687124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2543183193498687124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/humour_15.html' title='Humour'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4876083770153827701</id><published>2007-08-06T18:32:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T18:33:03.363+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=2&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=3&gt;Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his &lt;br&gt; drinking buddy, Paddy.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He took off his shoes to avoid waking his &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; wife, Mary.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to &lt;br&gt; their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As he caught &lt;br&gt; himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; heavily on his rump.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; made the landing especially painful.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and &lt;br&gt; looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and &lt;br&gt; stumbled his way to bed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head &lt;br&gt; and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She said, &amp;quot;You were drunk again last night weren't you?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Flynn said, &amp;quot;Why you say such a mean thing?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well,&amp;quot; Mary said, &amp;quot;it could be the open front door, it could be the&lt;br&gt; broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of &lt;br&gt; blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; but mostly..... it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4876083770153827701?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4876083770153827701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4876083770153827701&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4876083770153827701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4876083770153827701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/humour.html' title='Humour'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-9031525577032184792</id><published>2007-08-06T18:00:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T18:00:26.583+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Two Italian men are out rounding up sheep when all of a sudden a ewe takes off&lt;br&gt; and goes wild, runs into a fence and gets her head stuck. The two shepherds&lt;br&gt; run over to the fence to get her out when one says to the other &amp;quot;Hey, boyo,&lt;br&gt; this is too good an opportunity to pass up.&amp;quot; So he unzips his fly, yanks&lt;br&gt; out his wang and does the business. When he's finally finished he looks&lt;br&gt; round to his mate and says, &amp;quot;That was bloody marvellouse. D'you fancy a&lt;br&gt; go?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Bloody right I do!&amp;quot; grins his mate, as he drops his trousers and sticks&lt;br&gt; his head through the fence.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-9031525577032184792?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/9031525577032184792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=9031525577032184792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/9031525577032184792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/9031525577032184792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/two-italian-men-are-out-rounding-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4980423335607909622</id><published>2007-08-06T17:51:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T17:51:22.785+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Saturday morning I got up very early, put on my long johns, dressed&lt;br&gt; quietly, made my lunch, slipped quietly into the garage loaded the truck&lt;br&gt; with rifle and stand, and proceeded to back out into a torrential&lt;br&gt; downpour. There was snow mixed with the rain, and the wind was blowing 50&lt;br&gt; mph. I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered&lt;br&gt; that the weather would be bad throughout the day.&lt;br&gt; I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed.&lt;br&gt; There I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation,&lt;br&gt; and whispered, &amp;quot;The weather out there is terrible.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; She sleepily replied, &amp;quot;Can you believe my stupid husband is out hunting in&lt;br&gt; that shit?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4980423335607909622?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4980423335607909622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4980423335607909622&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4980423335607909622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4980423335607909622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/saturday-morning-i-got-up-very-early.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4441277511311091683</id><published>2007-08-06T17:41:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T17:41:27.679+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;£7m cost of telling staff how to keep desks tidy&lt;br&gt; By Paul Stokes&lt;br&gt; Last Updated: 3:03am GMT 05/01/2007&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Civil servants are being trained how to keep their desks tidy as part &lt;br&gt; of a&lt;br&gt; £7 million Government project described by one union as &amp;quot;madness&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Staff at one HM Revenue and Customs complex have had strips of black &lt;br&gt; tape&lt;br&gt; fixed to their desks to mark where items should be placed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The pilot study at the offices at Longbenton, Newcastle upon Tyne, is&lt;br&gt; designed to improve efficiency by clearing clutter and keep computer&lt;br&gt; keyboards, telephones and stationery in their optimum positions.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; It is included in a programme entitled Lean, introduced by consultants&lt;br&gt; Unipart to improve the performance of public sector workers more used to&lt;br&gt; dealing with red tape.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; HMRC would not disclose how much Unipart was being paid for its service &lt;br&gt; but&lt;br&gt; the Public and Commercial Services Union (PCS) yesterday claimed that &lt;br&gt; the&lt;br&gt; dictum to desk-users was part of a £7.4 million national project.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; One Longbenton worker said: &amp;quot;Telling people where they should place &lt;br&gt; their&lt;br&gt; telephone is demeaning and demoralising.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;It's absurd that all this public money is being spent on this when &lt;br&gt; staff&lt;br&gt; are quite capable of deciding for themselves how their desks should be&lt;br&gt; organised.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The union has had reports of staff in one office being asked if a &lt;br&gt; banana was&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;active or inactive&amp;quot;, meaning it had to be cleared from a desk unless &lt;br&gt; it was&lt;br&gt; going to be eaten immediately.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Kevin McHugh, the PCS branch secretary, said some staff at Longbenton &lt;br&gt; share&lt;br&gt; the same desk, and have to rearrange their workspace, regardless of the&lt;br&gt; tape.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He said. &amp;quot;This office has been open for 60 years and people have &lt;br&gt; managed to&lt;br&gt; find their pens and staplers without consultants helping them in that &lt;br&gt; time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;They are trying to turn people into robots but the whole thing falls &lt;br&gt; down&lt;br&gt; because in certain areas we have hot-desking where different shifts &lt;br&gt; come in&lt;br&gt; and use the same desks.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;If the person coming in after you has slightly shorter arms, then the&lt;br&gt; markers will be in the wrong place.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Marking the desk tends to get members upset sometimes when they've got&lt;br&gt; personal photographs on their desks and they have to move them around.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A HMRC spokesman explained it was &amp;quot;only right&amp;quot; that staff sharing desk &lt;br&gt; space&lt;br&gt; be given advice and support on how to make the most efficient use of the&lt;br&gt; space.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She said: &amp;quot;It will also help to make sure everyone has what they need &lt;br&gt; to do&lt;br&gt; their job effectively and in turn support working relationships. Staff &lt;br&gt; can&lt;br&gt; still move the things on their desk to positions that suit them best.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Lean is all about how we can work more efficiently to deliver an even&lt;br&gt; better service to our customers.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4441277511311091683?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4441277511311091683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4441277511311091683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4441277511311091683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4441277511311091683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/08/7m-cost-of-telling-staff-how-to-keep.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-435182952188805829</id><published>2007-06-06T17:18:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T17:18:10.645+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour printer repair</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;When the office printer's type began to grow faint (this was one of the old&lt;br&gt; dot-matrix printers), the office manager called a local repair shop where a&lt;br&gt; friendly man informed him that the printer probably needed only to be&lt;br&gt; cleaned. Because the store charged $50 for such cleanings, he said, the&lt;br&gt; manager might try reading the printer's manual and doing the job himself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Pleasantly surprised by his candour, the office manager asked, &amp;quot;Does your&lt;br&gt; boss know that you discourage business?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Actually it's my boss's idea,&amp;quot; the employee replied. &amp;quot;We usually make more&lt;br&gt; money on repairs if we let people try to fix things themselves first.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-435182952188805829?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/435182952188805829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=435182952188805829&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/435182952188805829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/435182952188805829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/06/humour-printer-repair.html' title='Humour printer repair'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-1313915159896790813</id><published>2007-06-06T17:09:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T17:09:38.454+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Humour:</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Kylie Minogue, Robbie Williams &amp;amp; Elton John were walking over a bridge.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Kylie trips and gets her head jammed between the railings. With a couple of&lt;br&gt; sideways glances Robbie pulls down her knickers and shags her senseless.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He stands back. &amp;quot;Your turn&amp;quot;, he tells Elton.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; But Elton starts crying.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What's up?&amp;quot; asks Robbie.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Elton sobs, &amp;quot;My head won't fit between the railings!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Archive : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/humour&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Little Johnny : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus6.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleJ&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;News Oddities : &lt;a href="http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://jokesareus9.blogspot.com/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;RSS feed : &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://feeds.feedburner.com/newsodd&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; DISCLAIMER: I am solely responsible for sending out this email. No other organizations or entities are associated with them. &lt;br&gt; Distribution of this document is permitted. Well it might as well be , because your going to do it any way. &lt;br&gt; The contents of this e mail is not intended to offend in anyway. Let's get this right folks , it's an attempt at humour. If you are offended , get yourself off the list , pronto.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-1313915159896790813?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/1313915159896790813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=1313915159896790813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1313915159896790813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1313915159896790813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/06/humour.html' title='Humour:'/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-358898700706290226</id><published>2007-06-04T17:52:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T17:52:42.845+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Why did the blond lay out on the lawn chair in her bikini at midnight?&lt;br&gt; She wanted to get a dark tan.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; What does a blonde think an innuendo is? &lt;br&gt; An Italian suppository.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Did you hear about the blonde virgin who wasn't upset about losing her cherry? &lt;br&gt; She figured she could always get a new one, since she still had the box it came in.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; What's the difference between a blonde and a washing machine? &lt;br&gt; If you throw a load in a washing machine, it doesn't follow you around for 3 days.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons. -James Thurber &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-358898700706290226?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/358898700706290226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=358898700706290226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/358898700706290226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/358898700706290226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/06/why-did-blond-lay-out-on-lawn-chair-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4473210656192796237</id><published>2007-06-04T17:43:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T17:43:56.831+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; US HEADLINES FROM THE YEAR: 2029&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Ozone created by electric cars now killing millions in the seventh largest country in the world, Mexifornia, formerly known as California.&lt;br&gt; White minorities still trying to have English recognized as Mexifornia's third language.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Spotted Owl plague threatens northwestern United States crops and livestock.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Baby conceived naturally. Scientists stumped.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Couple petitions court to reinstate heterosexual marriage.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Last remaining Fundamentalist Muslim dies in the American Territory of the Middle East (formerly known as Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria and Lebanon).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Iran still closed off; physicists estimate it will take at least 10 more years before radioactivity decreases to safe levels.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; France pleads for global help after being taken over by Jamaica.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Castro finally dies at age 112; Cuban cigars can now be imported legally, but President Chelsea Clinton has banned all smoking.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; George Z. Bush says he will run for President in 2036.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Postal Service raises price of first class stamp to $17.89 and reduces mail delivery to Wednesdays only.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 85-year $75.8 billion study: Diet and Exercise is the key to weight loss.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Average weight of Americans drops to 250 lbs.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Japanese scientists have created a camera with such a fast shutter speed, they now can photograph a woman with her mouth shut.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Massachusetts executes last remaining conservative.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Supreme Court rules punishment of criminals, violates their civil rights.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Average height of NBA players is now nine feet, seven inches.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; New federal law requires that all nail clippers, screwdrivers, fly swatters and rolled-up newspapers must be registered by January 2036.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Congress authorizes direct deposit of formerly illegal political contributions to campaign accounts.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; IRS sets lowest tax rate at 75 percent.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Florida voters still having trouble with voting machines.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons. -James Thurber &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4473210656192796237?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4473210656192796237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4473210656192796237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4473210656192796237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4473210656192796237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/06/us-headlines-from-year-2029-ozone.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4744085168422102404</id><published>2007-06-04T17:35:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T17:35:43.579+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A Marital Year of Sex&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; TO MY DEAR WIFE:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; During the past year I have tried to make love to you 365 times. I have succeeded 36 times, which is an average of once every ten days. The following is a list of why I did not succeed more often:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 54 times the sheets were clean &lt;br&gt; 17 times it was too late &lt;br&gt; 49 times you were too tired &lt;br&gt; 20 times it was too hot &lt;br&gt; 15 times you pretended to be sleep &lt;br&gt; 22 times you had a headache &lt;br&gt; 17 times you were afraid of waking the baby &lt;br&gt; 16 times you said you were too sore &lt;br&gt; 12 times it was the wrong time of the month &lt;br&gt; 19 times you had to get up early &lt;br&gt; 9 times you said weren't in the mood &lt;br&gt; 7 times you were sunburned &lt;br&gt; 6 times you were watching the late show &lt;br&gt; 5 times you didn't want to mess up your new hairdo &lt;br&gt; 3 times you said the neighbors would hear us &lt;br&gt; 9 times you said your mother would hear us&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Of the 36 times I did succeed, the activity was not satisfactory because:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 6 times you just lay there&lt;br&gt; 8 times you reminded me there's a crack in the ceiling &lt;br&gt; 4 times you told me to hurry up and get it over with &lt;br&gt; 7 times I had to wake you and tell you I finished &lt;br&gt; 1 time I was afraid I had hurt you because I felt you move&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; TO MY DEAR HUSBAND:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I think you have things a little confused. Here are the reasons you didn't get more than you did:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 5 times you came home drunk and tried to screw the cat &lt;br&gt; 36 times you did not come home at all &lt;br&gt; 21 times you didn't cum &lt;br&gt; 33 times you came too soon &lt;br&gt; 19 times you went soft before you got in &lt;br&gt; 38 times you worked too late &lt;br&gt; 10 times you got cramps in your toes &lt;br&gt; 29 times you had to get up early to play golf &lt;br&gt; 2 times you were in a fight and someone kicked you in the balls &lt;br&gt; 4 times you got it stuck in your zipper &lt;br&gt; 3 times you had a cold and your nose was running &lt;br&gt; 2 times you had a splinter in your finger &lt;br&gt; 20 times you lost the&amp;nbsp; notion after thinking about it all day &lt;br&gt; 6 times you came in your pajamas while reading a dirty book &lt;br&gt; 98 times you were too busy watching TV &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Of the times we did get together:&lt;br&gt; The reason I laid still was because you missed and were screwing the sheets. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I wasn't talking about the crack in the ceiling, what I said was, &amp;quot;Would you prefer me on my back or kneeling?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The time you felt me move was because you farted and I was trying to breathe.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons. -James Thurber &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4744085168422102404?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4744085168422102404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4744085168422102404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4744085168422102404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4744085168422102404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/06/marital-year-of-sex-to-my-dear-wife.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5460863161568150963</id><published>2007-06-04T17:19:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T17:19:25.316+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For all you travelers confused over security levels:&lt;p&gt;EU Security Threat Levels &amp;#173; an update&lt;p&gt;The British are feeling the pinch in relation to recent bombings and  have raised their security level from &amp;quot;Miffed&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Peeved&amp;quot;.  Soon,  though, security levels may be raised yet again to &amp;quot;Irritated&amp;quot; or  even &amp;quot;A Bit Cross&amp;quot;.  Londoners have not been &amp;quot;A Bit Cross&amp;quot; since the  Blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out.  Terrorists have been re-categorised from &amp;quot;Tiresome&amp;quot; to a &amp;quot;Bloody Nuisance&amp;quot;.  The last time the British issued a &amp;quot;Bloody Nuisance&amp;quot; warning level was during the Great Fire of 1666.&lt;p&gt;Also, the French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from &amp;quot;Run&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Hide&amp;quot;.  The only two higher levels in France are &amp;quot;Surrender&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Collaborate&amp;quot;.  The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France&amp;#39;s white flag factory, effectively paralysing the country&amp;#39;s military capability.&lt;p&gt;It&amp;#39;s not only the English and the French that are on a heightened level of alert.  Italy has increased the alert level from &amp;quot;Shout Loudly and Excitedly&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Elaborate Military Posturing&amp;quot;.  Two more levels remain:  &amp;quot;Ineffective Combat Operations&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Change Sides&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;The Germans also increased their alert state from &amp;quot;Disdainful Arrogance&amp;quot; to &amp;quot;Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs&amp;quot;.  They also have two higher levels:  &amp;quot;Invade a Neighbour&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Lose&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual, and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;.	.	.	.	.	.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot; If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons. -James Thurber &amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net"&gt;http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Stephen&amp;#39;s Snaps&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/"&gt;http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;p&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5460863161568150963?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5460863161568150963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5460863161568150963&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5460863161568150963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5460863161568150963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/06/for-all-you-travelers-confused-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-681581202269098674</id><published>2007-04-26T18:13:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T22:50:46.199+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;10 Characteristics of the Company Car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Accelerates at a phenomenal rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Has a much shorter braking distance than the private car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Can take speed humps at twice the speed of private cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The battery, radiator water, oil and tires never have to be checked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* It can be driven up to 60 miles with the oil warning light flashing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* It needs cleaning less often than private cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The suspension is reinforced to allow for the weekend loads of bricks, concrete slabs and other building material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Unusual and alarming engine noises are easily eliminated by turning up the radio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* It needs no security system and may be left anywhere, unlocked and with the keys in the ignition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* It is especially sand and waterproofed for barbeques and fishing expeditions on remote beaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;       &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" We've got a nation of people who have one eye looking out for the next speed camera, another looking for a speed limit sign and another looking at the speedometer  which is a bit of a shame, when you only have two eyes. -Paul Smith "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-681581202269098674?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/681581202269098674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=681581202269098674&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/681581202269098674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/681581202269098674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/04/10-characteristics-of-company-car.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5515368607069547941</id><published>2007-04-26T18:11:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T22:50:32.569+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A man and his wife are dining at a table in a plush restaurant, and the husband keeps staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sits alone at a nearly table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife asks, "do you know her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes", sighs the husband, "She's my ex-girlfriend.  I understand she took to drinking right after we split up seven years ago, and I hear she hasn't been sober since". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My God" says the wife, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;       &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;        &lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" We've got a nation of people who have one eye looking out for the next speed camera, another looking for a speed limit sign and another looking at the speedometer  which is a bit of a shame, when you only have two eyes. -Paul Smith "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5515368607069547941?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5515368607069547941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5515368607069547941&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5515368607069547941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5515368607069547941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/04/man-and-his-wife-are-dining-at-table-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5462033420989280236</id><published>2007-04-13T22:44:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T14:45:08.913+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Core Promises ...&lt;p&gt;While on his morning walk, Prime Minister John Howard falls over, has a heart attack and dies because the accident and emergency ward at his nearest hospital is too understaffed to treat him in time. So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Welcome to Heaven," says Saint Peter, "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a Liberal around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"No problem, just let me in; I'm a good Christian; I'm a believer," says the PM.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from God Himself. He says that since the implementation of his new HEAVENCHOICES policy, you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," replies Howard.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I'm sorry ... but we have our rules," Peter interjects. And, with that, St. Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down, down, down ... all the way to Hell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a perfect 22C degrees. In the distance is a beautiful club-house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Standing in front of it is Bob Menzies and thousands of other Liberals luminaries who had helped him out over the years --- Harold Holt, John Gorton, Bill McMahon, etc. The whole of the Liberal Party leaders were there ... everyone laughing, happy, and casually but expensively dressed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They run to greet him, to hug him and to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.' They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Devil himself comes up to Howard with a frosty drink, "Have a tequila and relax, John!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Uh, I can't drink anymore, I took a pledge," says Howard, dejectedly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"This is Hell, son. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry and it just gets better from there!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Howard takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like himself and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like the ones the Liberals pulled with the GST and the Free Trade Agreement promises.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They are having such a great time that, before he realises it, it's time to go.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Howard steps on the elevator and heads upward.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again and Saint Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man says, opening the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for 24 hours Howard is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or short-arse joke among them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No fancy country clubs here and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. And these people are all poor. He doesn't see anybody he knows and he isn't even treated like someone special!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself. "Bob Menzies never prepared me for this!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The day done, Saint Peter returns and says, "Well, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for eternity."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With the 'Deal or No Deal' theme playing softly in the background, Howard reflects for a minute ... then answers: "Well, I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all -- but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The doors of the elevator open and he is in the middle of a barren scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial wasteland, kind of like the eroded, rabbit and fox affected Australian outback.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He is horrified to see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the roadside rubbish and putting it into black plastic bags.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Devil comes over to Howard and puts an arm around his shoulder.  "I don't understand," stammers a shocked John, "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a club-house and we ate lobster and caviar and drank tequila. We lazed around and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;. . . . . .&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I cant remember if I'm the good twin or the bad one.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/"&gt;http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/"&gt;http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5462033420989280236?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5462033420989280236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5462033420989280236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5462033420989280236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5462033420989280236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/04/core-promises.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-410885886407558497</id><published>2007-01-17T17:20:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T17:20:12.674+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A bloke is driving around in the Australian bush and because it's Australia his truck has got a 'roo bar on the front that protects it if he hits a kangaroo.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Suddenly he hits something, so he gets out and sees that there's a pig wedged between his 'roo bar and his truck. He tries to get it out but it's stuck tight, so he gets on his CB radio and asks for advice. &amp;quot;Breaker&lt;br&gt; breaker. I've got a pig stuck behind my 'roo bar. How can I get it out?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A reply comes back. &amp;quot;Just slice open the pig and let the guts spill out. The pig will fall out.&amp;quot; So the guy does this and as predicted the pig falls straight out.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;OK, I've cut open the pig and it's out, but now I've got another problem.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What is it now?&amp;quot; says the bloke on the radio.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What do I do with his motorcycle and helmet?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members of a weird religious cult. -Rita Rudner &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-410885886407558497?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/410885886407558497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=410885886407558497&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/410885886407558497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/410885886407558497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2007/01/bloke-is-driving-around-in-australian.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-7802750355712477479</id><published>2006-12-19T21:59:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T21:59:21.473+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>TEN PUBLIC SERVANTS&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; (A cautionary poem for our times)&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; * Ten Public Servants standing in a line; One of them was downsized then there were nine.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Nine Public Servants who must negotiate; One joined the union then there were eight.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Eight Public Servants thought they were in heaven; 'til one of them was redeployed then there were seven.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Seven Public Servants, their jobs as safe as bricks; But one was reclassified then there were six.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Six Public Servants trying to survive; One of them was privatised, then there were five.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Five Public Servants ready to give more; But one Golden Handshake reduced them to four.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Four Public Servants full of loyalty; Their jobs were all advertised then there were three.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Three Public Servants under review; One left on secondment then there were two.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* Two Public Servants coping on the run; One went on stress leave then there was one.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;* The last Public Servant agreed to relocate; Replaced by 10 consultants at twice the hourly rate.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;font size=3&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; I have wondered at times about what the Ten Commandment's would have looked like if Moses had run them through the U.S. Congress. -Ronald Reagan &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Truk photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-7802750355712477479?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/7802750355712477479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=7802750355712477479&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7802750355712477479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7802750355712477479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/12/ten-public-servants-cautionary-poem-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-7256934542627936965</id><published>2006-12-04T18:33:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T18:33:59.865+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;An English explorer was taking part in an expedition to the Himalayas. Led by a grizzled local guide, they ascended one of the less frequently climbed peaks.&amp;nbsp; Roughly halfway up the side of the mountain, a member of the expedition came across a set of large manlike tracks in the snow.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Yeti tracks,&amp;quot; the sherpa said with a gruff voice as he passed them. &amp;quot;One thing you must know before we proceed; DO NOT, under any circumstances, touch the yeti.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The expedition heeded his warning and continued to climb the slope. Night fell, and the explorers set up their tents.&amp;nbsp; In the dead of night, the Englishman awoke to the sound of his tent entrance unzipping. Half-asleep, he looked up to see an enormous eight-foot yeti standing above him.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; In fear for his life the explorer jumped up and ran out of the tent, banging into the yeti in the process.&amp;nbsp; The yeti, after being touched by the explorer let out a deafening howl and began to chase the explorer down the slope.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The explorer ran away from the camp as quickly as his legs could take him, after he rounded a corner he looked behind him to see the bounding form of the yeti still chasing him.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the explorer continued to run, reaching the bottom of the mountain in just two days, exhausted he paused to rest awhile.&amp;nbsp; After just a few moments, the explorer began to hear the soft 'thud thud thud'of yeti feet on snow, he looked up the slope to see the yeti still chasing him and only moments away.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The explorer took off again, reaching a supply shack a couple of milesaway, once there quickly buying a mountain bike and pedaling his way to the nearest town, some fifty miles away.&amp;nbsp; The journey took him several days over the rough terrain and after his arrival he booked into a hotel to recuperate.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Two days later the man left his hotel to see about booking transport back to England. As soon as he turned around though he saw the form of the yeti on the horizon, bounding towards him at great speed.&amp;nbsp; Horrified by this sight, the explorer hurriedly bought a car and drove it away from the village all the way to Delhi.&amp;nbsp; Once he arrived, the man wasted no time in getting on the next plane to London.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; After his arrival back in London, the man went back to his London home for a while to recover and to plan his next expedition. He had been there less than two weeks and was gazing out of a window when he saw a familiar large bounding, manlike creature running down his street; the man couldn't believe it -- somehow the yeti had followed him to England!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The man had little choice but to run away again, he used any means he could, bike, car, or on foot to try to escape the yeti, but each time he looked behind him, it was just moments before the yeti came into view.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Eventually the man made it all the way to Edinburgh and from there ran into the open Scottish countryside.&amp;nbsp; He continued to run but the yeti just kept getting closer and closer, and in the end the man could run no more.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; With the yeti less than a minute away from him, the man finally stopped and turned around to face the oncoming creature. With the last of his strength he stood up straight as the yeti caught up with him. The eight-foot tall yeti towered above the man, who could only stare in terror.&amp;nbsp; The yeti extended his hand and poked the Englishman squarely in the chest with one long finger and in a low rumbling voice the yetisaid, &amp;quot;Tag! You're it!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; In general, the art of government consists of taking as much money as possible from one party of the citizens to give to the other. -Voltaire &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-7256934542627936965?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/7256934542627936965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=7256934542627936965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7256934542627936965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7256934542627936965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/12/english-explorer-was-taking-part-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5330101994253346444</id><published>2006-12-01T00:57:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T00:57:39.035+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;3 Sharks meet in the ocean. They talk about the people they recently have eaten.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The first one says: I swallowed the Ayatollah yesterday, but the guy had eaten so much garlic I still feel sick.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The second shark says: That's nothing pal! I swallowed Boris Jelzin last week and the old guy had so much vodka in him that I'm still drunk.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The 3rd shark laughs and said: You lucky guys! I swallowed George W. Bush 3 weeks ago and the guy has so much air in his head, I still can't dive!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases:&lt;br&gt; If it moves, tax it If it keeps moving, regulate it.And if it stops moving, subsidize it. -Ronald Reagan &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5330101994253346444?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5330101994253346444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5330101994253346444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5330101994253346444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5330101994253346444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/12/3-sharks-meet-in-ocean.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5808584497040862451</id><published>2006-11-14T18:01:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T18:01:38.420+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A husband and wife love to golf together, but neither of them are playing like they want to, so they decide to take private lessons.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The husband has his lesson first. After the pro sees his swing, he says, &amp;quot;No, no, no, you're gripping the club way too hard!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well, what should I do?&amp;quot;, asks the man.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Hold the club gently,&amp;quot; the pro replied, &amp;quot;just like you'd hold your wife's breast.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Taking the advice, he takes a swing, and POW! He hits the ball 250 yards straight up the fairway. The ecstatic man goes back to his wife with the good news, and the wife can't wait for her lesson.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The next day the wife goes for her lesson. The pro watches her swing and says, &amp;quot;No, no, no, you're gripping the club way too hard.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What can I do?&amp;quot; asks the wife.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Hold the club gently, just like you'd hold your husband's cock.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The wife listens carefully to the pro's advice, takes a swing, and THUMP -- the ball skips down the fairway about 15 feet.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;You know, that was a lot better than I expected,&amp;quot; the pro says.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Now, take the club out of your mouth and hold it in your hands.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; If you can't convince them, confuse them. -Harry S. Truman &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5808584497040862451?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5808584497040862451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5808584497040862451&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5808584497040862451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5808584497040862451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/11/husband-and-wife-love-to-golf-together.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4960681059261711690</id><published>2006-10-31T17:24:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T17:24:47.056+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A Frenchman was arrested and charged with having sex with a dead woman.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;How do you plead?&amp;quot; asked the judge. &amp;quot;Guilty or not guilty.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Not guilty,&amp;quot; replied the man.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;On what grounds?&amp;quot; queried the judge.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I didn't think she was dead....I thought she was an American.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses. -Ziggy &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4960681059261711690?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4960681059261711690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4960681059261711690&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4960681059261711690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4960681059261711690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/frenchman-was-arrested-and-charged-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-8654317453067317403</id><published>2006-10-30T17:48:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T17:48:27.580+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;This is an actual letter sent to a man named Ryan DeVries by the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Quality, State of Pennsylvania.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; SUBJECT: DEQ File No.97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Dear Mr. DeVries:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; It has come to the attention of the Department of Environmental Quality that there has been recent unauthorized activity on the above referenced parcel of property. You have been certified as the legal landowner and/or contractor who did the following unauthorized activity:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Construction and maintenance of two wood debris dams across the outlet stream of Spring Pond.&amp;nbsp; A permit must be issued prior to the start of this type of activity.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A review of the Department's files shows that no permits have been issued. Therefore, the Department has determined that this activity is in violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 24.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Department has been informed that one or both of the dams partially failed during a recent rain event, causing debris and flooding at downstream locations. We find that dams of this nature are inherently&lt;br&gt; hazardous and cannot be permitted. The Department therefore orders you to cease and desist all activities at this location, and to restore the stream to a free-flow condition by removing all wood and brush forming the dams from the stream&amp;nbsp; channel. All restoration work shall be completed no later than January 31, 2006.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Please notify this office when the restoration has been completed so that a follow-up site inspection may be scheduled by our staff.&amp;nbsp; Failure to comply with this request or any further unauthorized activity on the site may result in this case being referred for elevated enforcement action.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; We anticipate and would appreciate your full cooperation in this matter. Please feel free to contact me at this office if you have any questions.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Sincerely,&lt;br&gt; David L. Price District Representative and Water Management Division.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Here is the actual response sent back by Mr. DeVries:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Re: DEQ File No. 97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Dear Mr. Price,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Your certified letter dated 12/17/05 has been handed to me to respond to. I am the legal landowner but not the Contractor at 2088 Dagget Lane, Trout Run, Pennsylvania.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A couple of beavers are in the (State unauthorized) process of constructing and maintaining two wood &amp;quot;debris&amp;quot; dams across the outlet stream of my Spring Pond. While I did not pay for, authorize, nor supervise their dam project, I think they would be highly offended that you call their skillful use of natures building materials &amp;quot;debris.&amp;quot; I would like to challenge your department to attempt to emulate their dam project any time and/or any place you choose.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I believe I can safely state there is no way you could ever match their dam skills, their dam resourcefulness, their dam ingenuity, their dam persistence, their dam determination and/or their dam work ethic.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; As to your request, I do not think the beavers are aware that they must first fill out a dam permit prior to the start of this type of dam activity.&amp;nbsp; My first dam question to you is:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; (1) Are you trying to discriminate against my Spring Pond Beavers, or &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; (2) Do you require all beavers throughout this State to conform to said dam request?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If you are not discriminating against these particular beavers, through the Freedom of Information Act, I request completed copies of all those other applicable beaver dam permits that have been issued. Perhaps we will see if there really is a dam violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113&lt;br&gt; of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I have several concerns. My first concern is, aren't the beavers entitled to legal representation? The Spring Pond Beavers are financially destitute and are unable to pay for said representation -- so the State will have to provide them with a dam lawyer. The Department's dam concern that either one or both of the dams failed during a recent rain event, causing flooding, is proof that this is a natural occurrence, which the Department is required to protect. In other words, we should leave the Spring Pond Beavers alone rather than harassing them and calling them dam names.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If you want the stream &amp;quot;restored&amp;quot; to a dam free-flow condition, please contact the beavers -- but if you are going to arrest them, they obviously did not pay any attention to your dam letter, they being unable to read&lt;br&gt; English. In my humble opinion, the Spring Pond Beavers have a right to build their unauthorized dams as long as the sky is blue, the grass is green and water flows downstream. They have more dam rights than I do to&lt;br&gt; live and enjoy Spring Pond. If the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection lives up to its name, it should protect the natural resources (Beavers) and the environment (Beavers' Dams).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So, as far as the beavers and I are concerned, this dam case can be referred for more elevated enforcement action right now. Why wait until 1/31/2006? The Spring Pond Beavers may be under the dam ice then, and there will be no way for you or your dam staff to contact/harass them then.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; In conclusion, I would like to bring to your attention to a real environmental quality, health, problem in the area. It is the bears! Bears are actually defecating in our woods. I definitely believe you should be persecuting the defecating bears and leave the beavers alone.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If you are going to investigate the beaver dam, watch your step!&amp;nbsp; The bears are not careful where they dump!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Being unable to comply with your dam request, and being unable to contact you on your dam answering machine, I am sending this response to your dam office.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; THANK YOU.&lt;br&gt; RYAN DEVRIES &amp;amp; THE DAM BEAVERS&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-8654317453067317403?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/8654317453067317403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=8654317453067317403&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8654317453067317403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8654317453067317403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/this-is-actual-letter-sent-to-man-named.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-536703032137729541</id><published>2006-10-29T22:55:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T22:57:12.105+11:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A highly successful Human Resources Manager was tragically knocked down by a bus and was killed. Her soul arrived at the Pearly Gates, where St.Peter welcomed her.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Before you get settled in&amp;quot; he said, &amp;quot;We have a little problem...you see, we've never had a Human Resources Manager make it this far before and we're&amp;nbsp; not really sure what to do with you.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Oh, I see,&amp;quot; said the woman, &amp;quot;Can't you just let me in?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well, I'd like to,&amp;quot; said St Peter, &amp;quot;But I have higher orders. We're instructed to let you have a day in Hell and a day in Heaven, and then you are to choose where you'd like to go for all eternity.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Actually, I think I'd prefer Heaven&amp;quot;, said the woman.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Sorry, we have rules...&amp;quot; at which St. Peter put the HR Manager into the downward bound elevator. As the doors opened in Hell she stepped out onto a beautiful golf course. In the distance was a country club; around her were many friends... past fellow executives, all smartly dressed happy, and cheering for her. They ran up and kissed her on both&amp;nbsp; cheeks, and they talked about old times. They played a perfect round of golf and afterwards went to the country club where she enjoyed a superb steak and lobster dinner. She met the Devil (who was actually rather nice) and she had a wonderful night telling jokes and dancing. Before she knew it, it was time to leave. Everyone shook her hand and waved goodbye as she stepped into the&amp;nbsp; elevator. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The elevator went back up to Heaven where St. Peter was waiting for her. &amp;quot;Now it's time to spend a day in Heaven,&amp;quot; he said.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So she spent the next 24 hours lounging around on clouds, playing the harp and singing... which was almost as enjoyable as her day in Hell. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; At the day's end St. Peter returned. &amp;quot;So,&amp;quot; he said, &amp;quot;You've spent a day in Hell and you've spent a day in Heaven&amp;quot;.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;You must choose between the two.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The woman thought for a second and replied,&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Well, Heaven is certainly lovely, but I actually had a better time in Hell.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I choose Hell.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Accordingly, St. Peter took her to the elevator again and she went back down to Hell.&amp;nbsp; When the doors of the elevator opened she found herself standing in a desolate wasteland covered in garbage and filth. She saw her friends dressed in rags, picking up rubbish and putting it in old sacks.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Devil approached and put his arm around her.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I don't understand,&amp;quot; stuttered the HR Manager, &amp;quot;Yesterday I was here, and there was a golf course, and a country club. We ate lobster, and we danced and had a wonderful happy time. Now all there is, is just a dirty&lt;br&gt; wasteland of garbage and all my friends look miserable.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Devil simply looked at her and smiled.&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Yesterday we were recruiting you, today you're staff.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-536703032137729541?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/536703032137729541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=536703032137729541&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/536703032137729541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/536703032137729541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/highly-successful-human-resources.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-173801357867899709</id><published>2006-10-26T17:25:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T17:25:54.845+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A first grade class comes in from recess.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Ms. Goldstein the teacher asks Sarah, &amp;quot;What did you do at recess?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Sarah says, &amp;quot;I played in the sand box.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Teacher says, &amp;quot;That's good.&amp;nbsp; Go to the blackboard, and if you can write 'sand' correctly, I'll give you a fresh baked cookie.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She does and gets a cookie.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Teacher asks Morris what he did at recess.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Morris says, &amp;quot;I played with Sarah in the sand box.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Ms. Goldstein says, &amp;quot;Good.&amp;nbsp; If you write 'box&amp;quot; correctly on the blackboard, I'll give you a fresh baked cookie.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Morris does and gets a cookie.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Teacher then asks Mustaffa Abdul Mahmoud what he did at recess.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He says, &amp;quot;I tried to play with Sarah and Morris, but they threw rocks at me.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Ms. Goldstein says, &amp;quot;Threw rocks at you?&amp;nbsp; That sounds like blatant inter-racial discrimination.&amp;nbsp; If you can go the blackboard and write 'blatant inter-racial discrimination' I'll give you a cookie.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; All generalizations are false.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-173801357867899709?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/173801357867899709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=173801357867899709&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/173801357867899709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/173801357867899709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/first-grade-class-comes-in-from-recess.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2776143484327518200</id><published>2006-10-24T18:36:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T18:38:35.687+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=3&gt;THE PLAQUE . . .&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque.&amp;nbsp; It was covered with names with small American flags mounted on either side of it.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; The seven year-old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, &amp;quot;Good morning Alex.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Good morning Pastor,&amp;quot; he replied, still focused on the plaque. &amp;quot;Pastor, what is this?&amp;quot;, he asked the pastor.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The pastor said, &amp;quot;Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque. Alex had tears running down his face. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Finally, little Alex's voice, barely audible and trembling with fear, asked,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Which service, the 9:00 or the 11:00 ?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2776143484327518200?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2776143484327518200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2776143484327518200&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2776143484327518200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2776143484327518200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/plaque.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-7444529631098429484</id><published>2006-10-04T17:06:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T17:06:43.103+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Two priests are off to the showers late one night. They undress and step into the showers before they realize there is no soap. Father John says he has soap in his room and goes to get it, not bothering to dress. He grabs two bars of soap, one in each hand, and heads back to the showers. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He is halfway down the hall when he sees three nuns heading his way. Having no place to hide, he stands against the wall and freezes like he's a statue. The nuns stop and comment on how life-like he looks. &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; The first nun suddenly reaches out and pulls on his manhood. &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; Startled, he drops a bar of soap. &amp;quot;Oh look,&amp;quot; says the first nun, &amp;quot;it's a soap dispenser&amp;quot;. &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; To test her theory the second nun also pulls on his manhood. Sure enough, he drops the second bar of soap. &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; Now the third nun decides to have a go. She pulls once, then twice and three times but nothing happens. So she gives several more tugs, then yells, &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Holy Mary, Mother of God, hand lotion, too!&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot; When women are depressed they either eat or go shopping. Men invade&amp;nbsp; another country. -Elayne Boosler &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-7444529631098429484?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/7444529631098429484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=7444529631098429484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7444529631098429484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7444529631098429484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/two-priests-are-off-to-showers-late-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5691730893165334590</id><published>2006-10-03T17:50:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T17:50:31.602+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws of the church by hand.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript. So, the new monk goes to the head abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up! In fact, that error and subsequentc errors would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The head monk, said, &amp;quot;We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as&lt;br&gt; archives in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Hours go by and nobody sees the old abbot.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing, &amp;quot;We missed the &amp;quot; R &amp;quot; ! , we missed the &amp;quot;R &amp;quot; !&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably. The young monk asks the old abbot, &amp;quot;What's wrong, father?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; With a choking voice, the old abbot sobbed, &amp;quot;The word was CELEBRATE .&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Don't argue with an idiot; people watching may not be able to tell the difference.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5691730893165334590?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5691730893165334590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5691730893165334590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5691730893165334590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5691730893165334590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/young-monk-arrives-at-monastery.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2540701747455129996</id><published>2006-10-02T20:52:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T20:52:37.390+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;Mind game for dogs......&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Mind Games To Play With Humans&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 1. After your humans give you a bath, DON'T LET THEM TOWEL DRY YOU!&lt;br&gt; Instead, run to their bed, jump up and dry yourself off on the sheets.&lt;br&gt; This is especially good if it's right before your humans bedtime.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 2. Act like a convicted criminal. When the humans come home, put your ears back, tail between your legs, chin down and act as if you have done something really bad. Then, watch as the humans frantically search the house for the damage they think you have caused.&lt;br&gt; (Note: This only works when you have done absolutely nothing wrong.) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 3. Let the humans teach you a brand new trick. Learn it perfectly. When the humans try to demonstrate it to someone else, stare blankly back at the humans.&lt;br&gt; Pretend you have no idea what they're talking about.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 4. Make your humans be patient. When you go outside to go 'pee', sniff around the entire yard as your humans wait. Act as if the spot you choose to go pee will ultimately decide the fate of the earth.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 5. Draw attention to the human. When out for a walk always pick the busiest, most visible spot to go 'poo'. Take your time and make sure everyone watches. This works particularly well if your humans have forgotten to bring a plastic bag.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 6. When out for a walk, alternate between choking and coughing every time a strange human walks by.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 7. Make your own rules. Don't always bring back the stick when playing fetch with the humans. Make them go and chase it once in a while.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 8. Hide from your humans. When your humans come home, don't greet them at the door. Instead, hide from them, and make them think something terrible has happened to you. &lt;br&gt; (Don't reappear until one of your humans is panic-stricken and close to tears).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 9. When your human calls you to come back in, always take your time. Walk as slowly as possible back to the door.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; 10. Wake up twenty minutes before the alarm clock is set to go off and make the humans take you out for your morning pee. As soon as you get back inside, fall asleep. &lt;br&gt; (Humans can rarely fall back asleep after going outside, this will drive them nuts!)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Don't argue with an idiot; people watching may not be able to tell the difference.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2540701747455129996?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2540701747455129996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2540701747455129996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2540701747455129996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2540701747455129996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/10/mind-game-for-dogs.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-8161937589138053147</id><published>2006-09-30T21:24:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T21:24:54.045+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A little girl walks in to the lounge one Sunday morning while her Dad is reading the paper.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Where does poo come from?&amp;quot; she asks.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The father feeling a little perturbed that his 5 year old daughter is already asking difficult questions thinks for a moment and says: &amp;quot;Well you know we just ate breakfast?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; answers the girl.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well the food goes into our tummies and our bodies take out all the good stuff, and then whatever is left over comes out of our bums when we go to the toilet, and that is poo.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The little girl looks shocked, and stares at him in stunned silence for a few seconds and asks: &amp;quot;And Tigger?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I wished the buck stopped here, as I could use a few.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-8161937589138053147?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/8161937589138053147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=8161937589138053147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8161937589138053147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8161937589138053147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/little-girl-walks-in-to-lounge-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2601142695649253718</id><published>2006-09-29T17:41:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T17:41:29.238+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Here's a quote from a government employee who witnessed a recent&lt;br&gt; interaction between an elderly woman and an antiwar protester in a train station in Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; There were protesters on the train platform handing out pamphlets on the evils of&amp;nbsp; Australia. I politely declined to take one.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; An elderly woman was behind me getting off the escalator and a young (20ish) female protester offered her a pamphlet, which she politely declined.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The young protester put her hand on the old woman's shoulder as a gesture of friendship and in a very soft voice said, &amp;quot;Lady, don't you care about the children of Iraq?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The old woman looked up at her and said, &amp;quot;Honey, my father died in France during World War II, I lost my husband in Korea, and a son in Vietnam. All three died so you could have the right to stand here and bad mouth our country. If you touch me again. I'll stick this umbrella up your arse&amp;nbsp; and open it.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I wished the buck stopped here, as I could use a few.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week Gerbra &amp;amp; Rose photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2601142695649253718?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2601142695649253718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2601142695649253718&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2601142695649253718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2601142695649253718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/heres-quote-from-government-employee.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-6861334175127933325</id><published>2006-09-28T17:23:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T17:23:33.730+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=2&gt;Does the following apply to the&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;ARL OR AFL?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;36 have been accused of spousal abuse&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;7 have been arrested for fraud&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;19 have been accused of writing bad checks&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least 2 businesses&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;3 have done time for assault&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;71, repeat 71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;14 have been arrested on drug-related charges&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;8 have been arrested for shoplifting&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;21 currently are defendants in lawsuits, and&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;84 have been arrested for drunk driving in the last year&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;Can you guess which organization this is?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;Neither, it's the 535 members of the AUSTRALIAN PARLIAMENT IN CANBERRA&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;The same group of Idiots that crank out hundreds of new laws each year designed to keep the rest of us in line.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;You gotta pass this one on!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-6861334175127933325?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/6861334175127933325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=6861334175127933325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6861334175127933325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6861334175127933325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/does-following-apply-to-arl-or-afl-36.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2431891186190038228</id><published>2006-09-27T16:27:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T16:28:12.848+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;I have a blue heeler cross &amp;amp; I was buying a large bag of Purina Dog&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;Food&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;at Woollies and was in line to check out.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A woman behind me asked, &amp;quot;Do you have a dog ?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; On impulse, I told her that no, I was starting the Purina Diet again,&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;although I probably shouldn't&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 25&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;kilograms before I awoke in an intensive care ward with tubes coming&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3 color="#000080"&gt; o&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;ut&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;that&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;eat one or two every time you feel hungry &amp;amp; that the food is&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;now&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;enthralled with my story, particularly a guy who was behind her.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Horrified, she asked if I'd ended up in the hospital in that condition&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;because I had been poisoned.&amp;nbsp; I told her no; it was because I'd been&lt;/font&gt; &lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;sitting in the street licking my balls and a car hit me.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2431891186190038228?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2431891186190038228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2431891186190038228&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2431891186190038228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2431891186190038228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-have-blue-heeler-cross-i-was-buying.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4525228417233853457</id><published>2006-09-27T16:26:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T16:26:24.092+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;quot;Seen my new secretary?&amp;quot; asked Cletus. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Yeah,&amp;quot; his buddy Earl-Bob replied,&amp;quot; she's gorgeous.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Well, she's a Robot, the latest model from Japan.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Jeez, that's amazing! What can she do?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If you squeeze her left tit, she takes dictation. If you squeeze her right tit, she types 185 wpm for you. And when you screw her it feels better than the real thing.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Sounds perfect.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I got hurt once, though.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; How?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Well,&amp;quot; Cletus grimaced, &amp;quot;let's just say I didn't know her ass was a pencil sharpener..&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week more Jacaranda photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4525228417233853457?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4525228417233853457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4525228417233853457&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4525228417233853457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4525228417233853457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-new-secretary-asked-cletus.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4263352846299118971</id><published>2006-09-27T16:24:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T16:25:10.098+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A husband and wife are on a nudist beach when suddenly a wasp buzzes into the wife's hot pussy lips and enters.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Naturally enough, she panics.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The husband is also quite shaken but manages to put her shirt and&amp;nbsp; pants on, pull up his shorts, and carries her to the car.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Then they make a mad dash to the nearest doctor.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The doctor, after examining her, says that the wasp is too far in to be removed with a forceps.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The doctor then explains that the husband will have to try and entice it out, by putting honey on his dick, and withdrawing as soon as he feels the wasp.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the husband puts honey on his dick, but because of his wife's screaming, general panic, and his frantic dash to the doctors he just can't get it up!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the doctor says &amp;quot;I'll perform the procedure if your wife and you don't object.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Naturally both agree, for fear the wasp will do damage.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the doctor quickly undresses, smears honey on his dick and instantly gets an erection.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Slowly he begins to enter the wife, then withdrawal, and then again, and again, and again. Only, he doesn't stop but continues to pound her hot pussy endlessly.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; In a daze, the husband shouts, &amp;quot;What the Hell is going on?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The doctor replies, &amp;quot;Change of plans, I'm going to drown the little bastard!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;This week more Jacaranda photos.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4263352846299118971?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4263352846299118971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4263352846299118971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4263352846299118971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4263352846299118971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/husband-and-wife-are-on-nudist-beach.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4761722076944889410</id><published>2006-09-25T04:59:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T04:59:53.743+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A British company is developing small computer chips that can store music&lt;br&gt; in women's breasts.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; This is considered a major breakthrough since women complain about men&lt;br&gt; staring at their breasts and not listening to them.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;If you drink don't park, accidents cause people.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4761722076944889410?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4761722076944889410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4761722076944889410&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4761722076944889410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4761722076944889410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/british-company-is-developing-small.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2383756397206553045</id><published>2006-09-21T18:30:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T18:30:07.957+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A father put his three year old daughter to bed, told her a story and listened to her prayers which she ended by saying: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;God bless Mommy, &lt;br&gt; God bless Daddy, &lt;br&gt; God bless Grandma and &lt;br&gt; good-bye Grandpa.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The father asked, &amp;quot;Why did you say good-bye grandpa?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The little girl said, &amp;quot;I don't know daddy, it just seemed like the thing to do.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The next day grandpa died. The father thought it was a strange coincidence. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A few months later the father put the girl to bed and listened to her prayers which went like this: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;God bless Mommy, &lt;br&gt; God Bless Daddy and &lt;br&gt; good-bye Grandma.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The next day the grandmother died. Oh my gosh, thought the father, this kid is in contact with the other side. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Several weeks later when the girl was going to bed the dad heard her say: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;God bless Mommy and &lt;br&gt; good-bye Daddy.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He practically went into shock. He couldn't sleep all night and got up at the crack! of dawn to go to his office. He was nervous as a cat all day, had lunch sent in and watched the clock. He figured if he could get by until midnight he would be okay. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He felt safe in the office, so instead of going home at the end of the day he stayed there, drinking coffee, looking at his watch and jumping at every sound. Finally midnight arrived, he breathed a sigh of relief and went home. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; When he got home his wife said &amp;quot;I've never seen you work so late, what's the matter?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He said &amp;quot;I don't want to talk about it, I've just spent the worst day of my life.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She said &amp;quot;You think you had a bad day, you'll never believe what happened to me. This morning the milkman dropped dead on our porch.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;&amp;quot; If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went. -Will Rogers &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2383756397206553045?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2383756397206553045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2383756397206553045&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2383756397206553045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2383756397206553045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/father-put-his-three-year-old-daughter.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5657663858868781800</id><published>2006-09-21T18:27:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T18:27:25.967+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Dan and Mary get married but can't afford a honeymoon, so they go back to Mum and Dad's for the night.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; In the morning, little Johnny gets up and has his breakfast. As he is going out of the door to go to school, he asks his Mum if Dan and Mary are up yet.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She replies, &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Johnny asks, &amp;quot;Do you know what I think?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His Mom replies, &amp;quot;Never mind what you think! Just go to school.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Johnny comes home for lunch and asks his Mum, &amp;quot;Are Dan and Mary up yet?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She replies, &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Johnny says, &amp;quot;Do you know what I think?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His Mum replies, &amp;quot;Never mind what you think! Eat your lunch and go back to school.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; After school, he comes home and asks, &amp;quot;Are Dan and Mary up yet?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His Mum says, &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Johnny asks, &amp;quot;Do you know what I think?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His Mum replies, &amp;quot;What do you think?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He says, &amp;quot;Well, last night Dan came in for the Vaseline and I think I gave him my aeroplane glue.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;&amp;quot; What contemptible scoundrel has stolen the cork to my lunch? -W.C. Fields &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5657663858868781800?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5657663858868781800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5657663858868781800&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5657663858868781800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5657663858868781800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/dan-and-mary-get-married-but-cant.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-7188264257468263420</id><published>2006-09-20T17:56:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T17:57:01.000+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;Stumpy and his wife Martha went to the State Fair every year. Every year Stumpy would say, &amp;quot;Martha, I'd like to ride in that airplane.&amp;quot; And every year Martha would say, &amp;quot;I know, Stumpy, but that airplane ride costs ten dollars, and ten dollars is ten dollars.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; This one year Stumpy and Martha went to the fair and Stumpy said, &amp;quot;Martha, I'm 71 years old. If I don't ride that airplane this year I may never get another chance.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Martha replied, &amp;quot;Stumpy, that airplane ride costs ten dollars, and ten dollars is ten dollars.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The pilot overheard them and said, &amp;quot;Folks, I'll make you a deal. I'll take you both up for a ride. If you can stay quiet for the entire ride and not say one word, I won't charge you, but if you say one word it's ten dollars.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Stumpy and Martha agreed and up they go. The pilot does all kinds of twists and turns, rolls and dives, but not a word is heard. He does all his tricks over again, but still not a word. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; They land and the pilot turns to Stumpy, &amp;quot;By golly, I did everything I could think of to get you to yell out, but you didn't.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Stumpy replied, &amp;quot;Well, I was gonna say something when Martha fell out, but ten dollars is ten dollars.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-7188264257468263420?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/7188264257468263420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=7188264257468263420&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7188264257468263420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7188264257468263420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/stumpy-and-his-wife-martha-went-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-3544681408686235703</id><published>2006-09-20T17:54:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T17:54:32.835+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=2&gt;If Bud Abbott and Lou Costello were alive today, their infamous sketch,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Who's on First?&amp;quot; might have turned out something like this:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=2&gt;COSTELLO CALLS TO BUY A COMPUTER FROM ABBOTT&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Super Duper computer store. Can I help you?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Thanks. I'm setting up an office in my den and I'm thinking&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; about buying a computer.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Mac?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: No, the name's Lou.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Your computer?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: I don't own a computer. I want to buy one.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Mac?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: I told you, my name's Lou.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: What about Windows?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Why? Will it get stuffy?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Do you want a computer with Windows?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: I don't know. What will I see when I look at the windows?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Wallpaper.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Never mind the windows. I need a computer and software.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Software for Windows?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: No. On the computer! I need something I can use to write&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; proposals and track expenses and run my business. What do you have?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Office.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Yeah, for my office. Can you recommend anything?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: I just did.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: You just did what?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Recommend something.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: You recommended something?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Yes.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: For my office?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Yes.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: OK, what did you recommend for my office?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Office.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Yes, for my office!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: I recommend Office with Windows.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: I already have an office with windows! OK, let's just say I'm&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; sitting at my computer and I want to type a proposal. What do I need?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Word.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: What word?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Word in Office.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: The only word in office is office.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: The Word in Office for Windows.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Which word in office for windows?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: The Word you get when you click the blue &amp;quot;W&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: I'm going to click your blue &amp;quot;w&amp;quot; if you don't start with some&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; straight answers. What about financial bookkeeping? You have anything I&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; can track my money with?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Money.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: That's right. What do you have?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Money.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: I need money to track my money?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: It comes bundled with your computer.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: What's bundled with my computer?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Money.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Money comes with my computer?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Yes. No extra charge.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: I get a bundle of money with my computer? How much?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: One copy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: Isn't it illegal to copy money?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Microsoft gave us a license to copy Money.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: They can give you a license to copy money?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Why not? THEY OWN IT!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; (A few days later)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Super Duper computer store. Can I help you?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; COSTELLO: How do I turn my computer off?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; ABBOTT: Click on &amp;quot;START&amp;quot;.............&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-3544681408686235703?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/3544681408686235703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=3544681408686235703&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3544681408686235703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3544681408686235703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/if-bud-abbott-and-lou-costello-were.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5497817966459357875</id><published>2006-09-19T16:58:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T16:58:53.449+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Four men were bragging about how smart their dogs are. The first man was an Engineer, the second man was an Accountant, the third man was a Chemist, the fourth was a Government Worker.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; To show off, the Engineer called to his dog. &amp;quot;T-Square, do your stuff.&amp;quot; T-square trotted over to a desk, took out some paper and a pen and promptly drew a circle, a square and a triangle. Everyone agreed that was&lt;br&gt; pretty smart.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; But the Accountant said his dog could do better. He called his dog and said, &amp;quot;Pencil Pusher, do your stuff.&amp;quot; Pencil Pusher went out into the kitchen and returned with a dozen cookies. He divided them into 4 equal&lt;br&gt; piles of 3 cookies each. Everyone agreed that was good.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Chemist said his dog could do better. He called his dog and said, &amp;quot;Measure, do your stuff.&amp;quot; Measure got up, walked over to the fridge, took out a quart of milk, got a 10 ounces glass from the cupboard and poured&lt;br&gt; exactly 8 ounces without spilling a drop. Everyone agreed that was good. Then the three turned to the Government Worker and said, &amp;quot;What can your dog do?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Government Worker called to his dog and said, &amp;quot;Coffee Break, do your stuff.&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; Coffee Break jumped to his feet, ate the cookies, drank the milk, dumped on the paper, sexually as*aulted the other three dogs, claimed he injured his back while doing so, filed a grievance report for unsafe working conditions, put in for Worker's Compensation and took the rest of the day off, with pay.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;Reality is an illusion that occurs due to the lack of alcohol.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5497817966459357875?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5497817966459357875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5497817966459357875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5497817966459357875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5497817966459357875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/four-men-were-bragging-about-how-smart.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-1410079266345527632</id><published>2006-09-19T16:54:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T16:54:58.328+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Letter of complaint to Rexona &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; I wish to complain - the instructions on your deodorant were very&amp;nbsp; misleading.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; I followed your instructions on a stick of deodorant to the letter:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; 'Take Off Top, Push Up Bottom', and was left semi-naked in some not inconsiderable pain. And it didn't help my perspiring.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; Now I understand my error, but it's time that the writers of these instructions take responsibility for the resulting actions. The slogan on the front&amp;nbsp; - 'Sure Wont Let You Down', was correct, I was unable to sit down all morning.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?&lt;br&gt; Answer: I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever. -Miss Alabama in the 1994 Miss Universe contest&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-1410079266345527632?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/1410079266345527632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=1410079266345527632&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1410079266345527632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1410079266345527632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/letter-of-complaint-to-rexona-i-wish-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-7043332377424493230</id><published>2006-09-18T18:07:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T18:07:26.519+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;&amp;nbsp; Two men dressed in Pilots' uniforms walk up the aisle of the plane. Both are wearing dark glasses, one is using a guide dog, and the other is tapping his way along the aisle with a cane.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; Nervous laughter spreads through the cabin, but the men enter the cockpit, the door closes, and the engines start up. The passengers begin glancing nervously around, searching for some sign that this is just a little practical joke. None is forthcoming.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; The plane moves faster and faster down the runway and the people sitting in the window seats realize they're headed straight for the water at the edge of the airport.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; As it begins to look as though the plane will plough into the water, panicked screams fill the cabin. At that moment, the plane lifts smoothly into the air. The passengers relax and laugh a little sheepishly, and soon all retreat into their magazines, secure in the knowledge that the plane is in good hands.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp; In the cockpit, one of the blind pilots turns to the other and says, &amp;quot;You know, Bob, one of these days, they're gonna scream too late and we're all gonna fuckin' die.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?&lt;br&gt; Answer: I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever. -Miss Alabama in the 1994 Miss Universe contest&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-7043332377424493230?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/7043332377424493230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=7043332377424493230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7043332377424493230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7043332377424493230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/two-men-dressed-in-pilots-uniforms-walk.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-282943145426251772</id><published>2006-09-18T18:02:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T18:02:20.758+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;An Italian, a Scotsman and a Chinese fellow are hired at a construction&amp;nbsp; site. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The foreman points out a huge pile of sand. He says to the Italian guy, &amp;quot;You're in charge of sweeping.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; To the Scotsman he says, &amp;quot;You're in charge of shoveling.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; And to the Chinese guy, &amp;quot;You're in charge of supplies.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He then says, &amp;quot;Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you guys to make a dent in that there pile of sand.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So when the foreman returns, after being away for a couple of hours, the pile of sand is untouched. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He asks the Italian, &amp;quot;Why didn't you sweep any of it?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Italian replies, &amp;quot; I no hava no broom You saida to the &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Chinese-a-fella that he was in charge of supplies, but he hasa disappeared and I no could finda him nowhere.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Then the foreman turns to the Scotsman and says, &amp;quot;And you, I thought I told you to shovel this pile.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Scotsman replies, &amp;quot;Aye, that ye did laddie, boot ah couldnay get meself a shoovel! Ye left that Chinese gadgie in chairge of supplies, boot ah couldnay fin' him neither.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The foreman is really angry now. He storms off toward the pile of sand to look for the Chinese guy. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Just then, the Chinese guy leaps out from behind the pile of sand and yells . &amp;quot;SUPPLIES!!!!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;Life is sexually transmitted.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-282943145426251772?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/282943145426251772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=282943145426251772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/282943145426251772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/282943145426251772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/italian-scotsman-and-chinese-fellow-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-1409076180041182548</id><published>2006-09-17T15:47:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-17T15:47:28.490+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;I&amp;nbsp; had a bunch of Australian dollars I needed to exchange so I&amp;nbsp; went to the currency exchange window at my bank.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; I chose the&amp;nbsp; shortest line, just one guy in front of&amp;nbsp; me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He was an Asian guy who was trying to exchange yen for dollars and he was a little agitated.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He asked the teller, &amp;quot;Why it change? Yestoday I get two hunat dolla fo yen. Today I get hunat eighty?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The teller says,&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Fluctuations.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Asian guy says, &amp;quot;Fluc you white guys&amp;nbsp; too!&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-1409076180041182548?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/1409076180041182548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=1409076180041182548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1409076180041182548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1409076180041182548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-had-bunch-of-australian-dollars-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-1464005080203426067</id><published>2006-09-16T17:21:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T17:21:39.602+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How to Save Delta from Bankruptcy&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Replace all female flight attendants with good lookin' strippers. What the hell? The attendants have gotten old and haggard looking. They don't even serve food anymore, so what's the loss?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The strippers would double, triple, perhaps quadruple the alcohol consumption and get a &amp;quot;party atmosphere&amp;quot; going in the cabin.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Muslims would be afraid to get on the planes for fear of seeing naked women. And, of course, every heterosexual businessman in this country would start flying again hoping to see naked women. Hijackings would come to a screeching halt and the airline industry would see record revenue.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Why the hell didn't Bush think of this?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Why do I still have to do everything myself?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Sincerely, Bill Clinton&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; .&lt;x-tab&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;x-tab&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/x-tab&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;Being told something isn't good for us seldom does us any good.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Stephen's Snaps&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Simply nice photos, Landscape, Seascape, Underwater, The Northern Beaches Sydney.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Updated regularly. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-1464005080203426067?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/1464005080203426067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=1464005080203426067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1464005080203426067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1464005080203426067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-to-save-delta-from-bankruptcy.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5915443463657873100</id><published>2006-09-13T18:03:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T18:03:10.997+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Three Texas surgeons were playing golf together and discussing surgeries they had performed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The first said, &amp;quot;I'm the best surgeon in Texas. A concert pianist lost 7 fingers in an accident. I reattached them and 8 months later he performed a private concert for the Queen of England.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The second said, &amp;quot;That's nothing. A young man lost both arms and legs in an accident. I reattached them and 2 years later he won a gold medal in the Olympic decathlon.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The third surgeon said, &amp;quot;You guys are amateurs. Several years ago a cowboy who was high on cocaine and alcohol rode a horse head-on into a train traveling 80 miles an hour. All I had left to work with was the horse's *ss and a cowboy hat. Now he's president of the United States.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photo.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://photo.ebearweb.net/&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5915443463657873100?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5915443463657873100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5915443463657873100&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5915443463657873100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5915443463657873100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/three-texas-surgeons-were-playing-golf.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-2023494582129307610</id><published>2006-09-12T19:11:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T19:12:00.515+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Donald Rumsfeld is giving the president his daily Iraq briefing. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He concludes by saying: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;OH NO!&amp;quot; the President exclaims. &amp;quot;That's terrible!&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits, head in hands.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Finally, the President looks up and asks, &amp;quot;How many is a brazillion?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-2023494582129307610?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/2023494582129307610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=2023494582129307610&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2023494582129307610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/2023494582129307610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/donald-rumsfeld-is-giving-president-his.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5679676405796916100</id><published>2006-09-12T19:09:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T19:09:45.594+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;One misty Scottish morning a man was driving through the hills to Inverness.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Suddenly out of the mist, a massive red-haired highlander stepped into the middle of the road. The man is at least six feet four and has the appearance of a walking wardrobe. He has a huge red beard and despite the wind, mist and near freezing temperatures, is wearing only his kilt, a tweed shirt and a tam-o'-shanter at a rakish angle.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; At the roadside there also stands a young women. She is absolutely beautiful slim, shapely, fair complexion, golden hair ... heart stopping. The driver stops and stares, and his attention is only distracted from the lovely girl when the red thing opens the car door and drags him from his seat onto the road with a fist resembling a whole raw ham.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Right, you Jimmy&amp;quot; he shouts, &amp;quot;Ah want you to mast_rbate&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;But ...&amp;quot; stammers the driver&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Du it now ... or I'll bluddy kill yer&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the driver turns his back on the girl, drops his trousers and starts to mast_rbate. Thinking of the girl on the roadside, this doesn't take him long.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Right&amp;quot; snarls the highlander &amp;quot;Du it again!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;But ...&amp;quot; says the driver.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Now....&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the driver does it again.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Right laddie, du it again&amp;quot; demands the highlander.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; This goes on for nearly two hours. The hapless driver gets cramps in both arms, he has rubbed himself raw, has violent knob-ache, his sight is failing (as promised for years by his priest) and despite the cold wind has collapsed in a sweating, jibbering heap on the ground, unable to stand.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Du it again&amp;quot; says the highlander.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I can't do it anymore you'll just have to kill me&amp;quot;, whimpers the man.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The highlander looks down at the pathetic soul slumped on the roadside.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;All right, laddie,&amp;quot; he says, &amp;quot;NOW you can give ma daughter a lift to Inverness&amp;quot;.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5679676405796916100?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5679676405796916100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5679676405796916100&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5679676405796916100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5679676405796916100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/one-misty-scottish-morning-man-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-4239736204420206401</id><published>2006-09-12T19:08:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T19:09:04.794+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Arial, Helvetica" size=3&gt;MEDICARE RECOMMENDS&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;The phone rings and the lady of the house answers, &amp;quot;Hello&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Mrs. Ward, please.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Speaking.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Mrs. Ward, this is Doctor Jones at the Medical Testing Laboratory.&amp;nbsp; When your doctor sent your husband's biopsy to the lab yesterday, a&amp;nbsp; biopsy&amp;nbsp; from another Mr. Ward arrived as well, and we are now uncertain which&amp;nbsp; one&amp;nbsp; is&lt;br&gt; your husband's. Frankly the results are either bad or terrible.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What do you mean?&amp;quot; Mrs. Ward asks nervously.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's and the&amp;nbsp; other one tested positive for AIDS. We can't tell which is your husband's.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;That's dreadful! Can't you do the test again?&amp;quot; questioned Mrs. Ward.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Normally we can, but Medicare will only pay for these expensive tests one time.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well, what am I supposed to do now?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;The people at Medicare recommend that you drop your&amp;nbsp; husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-4239736204420206401?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/4239736204420206401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=4239736204420206401&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4239736204420206401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/4239736204420206401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/medicare-recommends-phone-rings-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-3640813286845077207</id><published>2006-09-10T15:25:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T15:25:13.694+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=2&gt;&lt;br&gt; While she was &amp;quot;flying&amp;quot; down the road 10 miles over the limit, a woman passed over a bridge only to find a cop with a radar gun on the other side lying in wait.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The cop pulled her over, walked up to the car, and with that classic patronizing smirk we all know and love, asked, &amp;quot;What's your hurry?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; To which she replied, &amp;quot;I'm late for work.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Oh yeah,&amp;quot; said the cop, &amp;quot;what do you do?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I'm a rectum stretcher,&amp;quot; she responded. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The cop stammered, &amp;quot;A what? A rectum stretcher? And just what does a rectum stretcher do?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well,&amp;quot; she said, &amp;quot;I start by inserting one finger, then I work my way up to two fingers, then three, then four, then with my whole hand in I work from side to side until I can get both hands in, and then I slowly but surely stretch until it's about 6 feet wide.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Yeah, right. And just what the hell do you do with a 6 foot asshole?&amp;quot; he asked. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; To which she politely replied, &amp;quot;You give him a radar gun and park him behind a bridge.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-3640813286845077207?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/3640813286845077207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=3640813286845077207&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3640813286845077207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3640813286845077207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/while-she-was-down-road-10-miles-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-548976072428649778</id><published>2006-09-09T16:36:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T16:37:05.523+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Q: How many Bush Administration officials does it take to screw in a light bulb?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A: None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; it's conditions are improving every day. Any reports of its lack of incandescence are delusional spin from the liberal media. That light bulb has served honourably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effect. Why do you hate freedom?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-548976072428649778?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/548976072428649778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=548976072428649778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/548976072428649778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/548976072428649778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/q-how-many-bush-administration.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-873852186101985973</id><published>2006-09-09T16:35:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T16:36:06.645+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=3&gt;A woman went to a pet shop and immediately spotted a large beautiful parrot. There was a sign on the cage that said $50.00. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Why so little,&amp;quot; she asked the pet store owner. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The owner looked at her and said, &amp;quot;Look, I should tell you first that this bird used to live in a house of prostitution, and sometimes it says some pretty vulgar stuff.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The woman thought about this, but decided she had to have the bird anyway. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; She took it home and hung the bird's cage up in her living room and waited for it to say something. The bird looked around the room, then at her, and said, &amp;quot;New house, new madam.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The woman&amp;nbsp; was a bit shocked at the implication, but then thought &amp;quot;that's not so bad.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; When her two teenage daughters&amp;nbsp; returned from school the bird saw them and said, &amp;quot;New house, new madam, new girls.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The girls and the woman were a bit offended but then began to laugh about the situation. Moments later, the woman's husband, Keith, came home from work. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The bird looked at him and said, &amp;quot;Hi Keith.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-873852186101985973?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/873852186101985973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=873852186101985973&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/873852186101985973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/873852186101985973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/woman-went-to-pet-shop-and-immediately.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-9076233693323120403</id><published>2006-09-08T17:12:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T17:12:52.246+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Three men die and go to heaven the same day. They get to the gates of heaven and are greeted by an angel. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The angel says to them, &amp;quot;Congratulations you have been accepted into Heaven. Each of you will be given a vehicle to drive around in heaven, based on how loyal you were to your spouses.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The angel says to the 1st man, &amp;quot;How loyal were you to your wife ?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The 1st man responds, &amp;quot;I never cheated on her ever.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The angel says, &amp;quot;Our records show this to be true.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The first man is given a Mercedes Benz (fully loaded.) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The angel asks the same question to the 2nd man, the 2nd man responds, &amp;quot;I've only cheated on her two times and came clean on the matters to my wife.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The angel checks his records and finds this to be true and gives the 2nd man a Honda Accord (not fully loaded, no spare tire, no tape player, no A/C, and vinyl interior.) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The angel asks the same of the 3rd man question too. The 3rd man responds, &amp;quot; I have cheated on my wife only one time, &amp;quot;I kissed another woman, that was all.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The angel verifies his records and gives him a beat-up Volkswagen Bug (no A/C, no heat, no windows, no spare tire, no radio, and no back seat, and the back bumper is missing.)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Two months pass by and by sheer coincidence all three men run into each other while waiting at a red traffic signal. The 1st man driving the Mercedes Benz is burst into tears and looks like a mess from crying. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The 2nd and 3rd man are wondering what could possibly be wrong. They are thinking; (He's got the nice fully loaded car, he's in heaven, what could possibly be wrong ?) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Curiosity is burning them up inside, so the 2nd man rolls down his windows and both (2nd and 3rd man) ask the 1st man, &amp;quot;What is bothering you so much ?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;The 1st man replies, &amp;quot;I just passed my wife... She was on a skateboard !!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-9076233693323120403?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/9076233693323120403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=9076233693323120403&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/9076233693323120403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/9076233693323120403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/three-men-die-and-go-to-heaven-same-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-8398852622343333160</id><published>2006-09-08T17:11:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T17:11:53.204+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Times New Roman, Times" size=3&gt;Mother Superior was on her way to late morning prayers, when she passed two novices just leaving early morning prayers, on their way to classes.&amp;nbsp; As she passed the young ladies, Mother Superior said,&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Good morning, Ladies.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The novices replied, &amp;quot;Good morning, Mother Superior. May God be with you.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; After they had passed, Mother Superior heard one say to the other, &amp;quot;I think she got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This startled Mother Superior, but she chose not to pursue the issue.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; A little further down the hall, Mother Superior passed two of the sisters, who had been teaching at the convent for several years.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She greeted them with, &amp;quot;Good morning, Sister Martha, Sister Jessica. May God give you wisdom for our students today.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Good morning, Mother Superior. Thank you, and may God be with you.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Again, after passing, Mother Superior overheard, &amp;quot;She got out of&amp;nbsp; the wrong side of bed today.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Baffled, she started to wonder if she had spoken harshly, or with an irritated look on her face. She vowed to be more pleasant.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Looking down the hall, Mother Superior saw retired Sister Mary approaching, step by step, with her walker. As Sister Mary was rather deaf, Mother Superior had plenty of time to arrange a pleasant smile on her face while waiting for Sister Mary to come close enough to hear her.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Good morning, Sister Mary. I'm so happy to see you up and about. I pray God watches over you today, and grants you a wonderful day.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Ah, good morning, Mother Superior, and thank you. I see you got up on the wrong side of bed this morning.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Mother Superior was floored!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Sister Mary, what have I done wrong? I have tried to be pleasant, but three times already today, people have said that about me.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Sister Mary stopped her walker, and looked Mother Superior in the face.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Oh, don't take it personal, Mother Superior. It's just that you're wearing Father Murphy's slippers.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-8398852622343333160?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/8398852622343333160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=8398852622343333160&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8398852622343333160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/8398852622343333160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/mother-superior-was-on-her-way-to-late.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5090193198278613129</id><published>2006-09-07T18:31:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T18:31:40.759+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;When Shane Warne and Simone first got married Shane said, &amp;quot;I am putting a box under the bed. You must promise never to look in it.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; In all their 10 years of marriage, Simone had never looked. However, on the afternoon of their 10th anniversary, curiosity got the best of her and she lifted the lid and peeked inside.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; In the box were 3 empty beer cans and $81,874.25 in cash. She closed the box and put it back under the bed.&lt;br&gt; Now that she knew what was in the box, she was doubly curious as to why there even was such a box with such contents.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; That evening, they were out for a special anniversary dinner. After dinner, Simone could no longer contain her curiosity and she confessed, saying, &amp;quot;I am so sorry. For all these years, I kept my promise and never looked into the box under our bed. However, today the temptation was too much and I gave in. But now I need to know, why do you keep the 3 beer cans in the box?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Shane thought for a while and said, &amp;quot;I guess after all these years you deserve to know the truth. Whenever I was unfaithful to you, I put an empty beer can in the box under the bed to remind myself not to do it again.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Simone was shocked, but said, &amp;quot;I am very disappointed and saddened by your behaviour. However, since you are addicted to sex, I guess it does happen and I guess 3 times is not that bad considering your problem.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Shane thanked her for being so understanding. They hugged and made their peace. A little while later Simone asked Shane, &amp;quot;So why do you have all that money in the box?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Shane answered, &amp;quot;Well, whenever the box filled up with empty cans, I took them to the recycling centre and redeemed them for cash.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5090193198278613129?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5090193198278613129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5090193198278613129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5090193198278613129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5090193198278613129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/when-shane-warne-and-simone-first-got.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-1135921889410836466</id><published>2006-09-07T18:30:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T18:30:38.760+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;An Irishman, a Mexican, and a Blonde Guy were doing construction work on scaffolding on the 20th floor of a building.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; They were eating lunch and the Irishman said, &amp;quot;Corned beef and cabbage! If I get corned beef and cabbage one more time for lunch, I'm going to jump off this building.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Mexican opened his lunch box and exclaimed, &amp;quot;Burritos again! If I get burritos one more time I'm going to jump off, too.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The blonde guy opened his lunch and said, &amp;quot;Bologna again! If I get a bologna sandwich one more time, I'm jumping too.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The next day, the Irishman opened his lunch box, saw corned beef and cabbage, and jumped to his death.&lt;br&gt; The Mexican opened his lunch, saw a burrito, and jumped, too.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The blonde guy opened his lunch, saw the bologna and jumped to his death as well.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; At the funeral, the Irishman's wife was weeping. She said, &amp;quot;If I'd known how really tired he was of corned beef and cabbage, I never would have given it to him again!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Mexican's wife also wept and said, &amp;quot;I could have given him tacos or enchiladas! I didn't realize he hated burritos so much.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Everyone turned and stared at the blonde's wife. The blonde guy's wife said, &amp;quot;Don't look at me .... He made his own lunch .&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;..............................................&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;I had amnesia once - maybe twice.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=3&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-1135921889410836466?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/1135921889410836466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=1135921889410836466&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1135921889410836466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/1135921889410836466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/irishman-mexican-and-blonde-guy-were.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-6739027878260743931</id><published>2006-09-06T18:01:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T18:02:46.624+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3 color="#00005B"&gt;DO NOT TALK TO MY PARROT!!! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Wanda's dishwasher quit working so she called a repairman. Since she had to go to work the next day, she told the repairman, &amp;quot;I'll leave the key under the mat. Fix the dishwasher, leave the bill on the counter, and I'll mail you a check.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Oh, by the way don't worry about my bulldog. He won't bother you. But, whatever you do, do NOT, under ANY circumstances, talk to my parrot!&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I REPEAT, DO NOT TALK TO MY PARROT!!!&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; When the repairman arrived at Wanda's apartment the following day, he discovered the biggest, meanest looking bulldog he has ever seen. But, just as she had said, the dog just lay there on the carpet watching the repairman go about his work. &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; The parrot, however, drove him nuts the whole time with his incessant yelling, cursing and name calling. Finally the repairman couldn't contain himself any longer and yelled, &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Shut up, you stupid, ugly bird!&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; To which the parrot replied, &amp;quot;Get him, Spike!&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-6739027878260743931?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/6739027878260743931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=6739027878260743931&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6739027878260743931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6739027878260743931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/do-not-talk-to-my-parrot-wandas.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-7355328980605894815</id><published>2006-09-06T17:35:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T17:35:32.772+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A Penguin was driving through Texas one day when he started having car trouble. Luckily he was just going through a small town, so he stopped at the local service station to have the problem checked out by a professional. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; When his turn came to be serviced he asked the mechanic how long it was going to take. The mechanic replied that it would take an hour or more. The penguin then asked if there was a Quik Stop or 7-11 around. Sure, right down the street replied the mechanic. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the penguin waddled down to the store to hang out in the frozen food section, eat vanilla ice cream and frozen fish sticks, and scope the babe-age. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; After an hour or so of this the penguin waddled back up to the service station, just in time to see his car coming down off the rack and the mechanic walking back to the restroom. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Sir, inquired the penguin, did you find the trouble with my car? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Son, replied the mechanic, with a deep Texas drawl, it looks like you blew a seal. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; No, said the Penguin, embarrassedly wiping his face, that's just vanilla ice cream.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-7355328980605894815?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/7355328980605894815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=7355328980605894815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7355328980605894815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/7355328980605894815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/penguin-was-driving-through-texas-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-3687952372659660848</id><published>2006-09-05T18:09:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T18:09:31.924+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;An Irishman goes to the Doctor with bottom problems...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Dactor, it's me ahrse. I'd loik ya ta teyhk a look, if ya woot&amp;quot;. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the doctor gets him to drop his pants and takes a look. &amp;quot;Incredible&amp;quot; he says,&amp;quot;there is a £20 note lodged up here.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Tentatively he eases the twenty out of the man's bottom, and then a £10 note appears. &amp;quot;This is amazing!&amp;quot; exclaims the Doctor. &amp;quot;What do you want me to do? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well fur gadness sake teyhk it out, man!&amp;quot; shrieks the patient. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The doctor pulls out the tenner and another twenty appears, and another and another and another, etc.... &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Finally the last Note comes out and no more appear. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Ah Dactor, tank ya koindly, dat's moch batter, how moch is dare den?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The Doctor counts the pile of cash.&amp;quot;£1,990 exactly. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Ah, dat'd be roit&amp;quot;, says the Irishman..... &amp;quot;I knew I wasn't feeling two grand.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-3687952372659660848?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/3687952372659660848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=3687952372659660848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3687952372659660848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3687952372659660848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/irishman-goes-to-doctor-with-bottom.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-6156282779805253355</id><published>2006-09-05T18:00:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T18:01:10.082+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A man gets up one morning to find his wife already in the kitchen cooking. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He looks to see what she's cooking, and sees one of his socks in the frying pan.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What are you doing?&amp;quot; he asks. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I'm doing what you asked me to do last night when you came to bed very drunk,&amp;quot; she replied&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Completely puzzled, the man walks away thinking to himself, &amp;quot;I don't remember asking her to cook my sock...&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-6156282779805253355?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/6156282779805253355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=6156282779805253355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6156282779805253355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6156282779805253355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/man-gets-up-one-morning-to-find-his.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5292876962301473443</id><published>2006-09-05T17:59:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T17:59:50.433+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A businessman went to Star City Casino for the weekend to gamble. He lost the shirt off his back and had nothing left but twenty cents and the return part of his round-trip ticket. If he could just get to the airport he could get himself home ...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So he went out to the front of the casino where there was a cab waiting.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He got in and explained his situation to the cabbie. He promised to send the driver money from home, he offered him his credit card numbers, his drivers license number, his address, all to no avail.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The cabbie said, &amp;quot;If you don't have fifteen dollars, get the hell out of my cab!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; So the businessman was forced to hitch-hike to the airport and was barely in time to catch his flight.&lt;br&gt; One year later the businessman, having worked long and hard to regain his financial success, returned to Star City and this time he won big. Feeling pretty good about himself, he went out to the front of the casino to get a cab ride back to the airport. Well who should he see out there, at the end of a long line of cabs but his old mate who had refused to give him a ride when he was down on his luck.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The businessman thought for a moment about how he could make the guy pay for his lack of charity, and he hit on a plan. The businessman got in the first cab in the line...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;How much for a ride to the airport,&amp;quot; he asked?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Fifteen bucks,&amp;quot; came the reply.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;And how much for you to give me oral sex on the way?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What? Get the hell out of my cab!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The businessman got into the back of each cab in the long line and asked the same questions, with the same result.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; When he got to his old friend at the back of the line, he got in and asked, &amp;quot;How much for a ride to the airport?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The cabbie replied &amp;quot;fifteen bucks&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The businessman said &amp;quot;OK&amp;quot; and off they went... then, as they drove slowly past the long line of cabs, the businessman gave a big smile and thumbs up sign to each of the other drivers.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5292876962301473443?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5292876962301473443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5292876962301473443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5292876962301473443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5292876962301473443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/businessman-went-to-star-city-casino.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-5264163388854204952</id><published>2006-09-04T18:42:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T18:42:11.057+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A young man graduated from University of Tasmania with a degree in journalism. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; His first assignment for the newspaper who hired him was to write a human interest story. Being from Tassie, he went back to the bush to do his research. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He went to an old farmer's house way back in the hills, introduced himself to the farmer, and proceeded to explain to him why he was there.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The young man asked, &amp;quot;Has anything ever happened around here that made you happy?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The farmer thought for a minute and said, &amp;quot;Yep! One time one of my neighbour's sheep got lost. We formed a search party and found it. We all rooted it and took it back home.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I can't print that!&amp;quot; the young man exclaimed. &amp;quot;Can you think of anything else that happened that made you or a lot of other people happy?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; After another moment, the farmer said, &amp;quot;Yeah, one time my neighbour's daughter, a good looking girl, got lost. We formed a big search party that time and found her. After we all rooted her, we took her back home too.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Again, the young man said &amp;quot;I can't print that either. Has anything ever happened around here that made you sad?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The old farmer dropped his head, looked up timidly at the young man and said, &amp;quot;I got lost once.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net/pictures.htm&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-5264163388854204952?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/5264163388854204952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=5264163388854204952&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5264163388854204952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/5264163388854204952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/young-man-graduated-from-university-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-6843433261544002645</id><published>2006-09-04T18:29:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T18:29:45.804+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;A guy walks into a bar with his pet monkey. He orders a drink and while he's drinking it the monkey jumps all around all over the place. The monkey grabs some olives off the bar and eats them, then grabs some sliced limes and eats them, then jumps up on the pool table, grabs the cue ball, sticks it in his mouth and swallows it whole. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The bartender screams at the guy, &amp;quot;Did you see what your monkey just did?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The guy says, &amp;quot;No, what?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;He just ate the cue ball off my pool table, whole!&amp;quot; says the bartender. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Yeah, that doesn't surprise me,&amp;quot; replied the patron. &amp;quot;He eats everything in sight, the little bastard. I'll pay for the cue ball and stuff.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He finishes his drink, pays his bill, and leaves. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Two weeks later he's in the bar again, and he has his monkey with him. He orders a drink and the monkey starts running around the bar again. While the man is drinking his drink, the monkey finds a maraschino cherry on the bar. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; He grabs it, sticks it up his butt, pulls it out, and eats it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The bartender is disgusted. &amp;quot;Did you see what your monkey did now?&amp;quot; he asks.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Now what?&amp;quot; responds the patron. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well, he stuck a maraschino cherry up his butt, then pulled it out and ate it!&amp;quot; says the barkeep. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Yeah, that doesn't surprise me,&amp;quot; replied the patron. &amp;quot;He still eats everything in sight, but ever since he ate that damn cue ball he measures everything first!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-6843433261544002645?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/6843433261544002645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=6843433261544002645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6843433261544002645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6843433261544002645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/guy-walks-into-bar-with-his-pet-monkey.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-6438643187410692755</id><published>2006-09-03T22:13:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T22:13:54.940+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;The family wheeled Grandma out on the lawn in her wheel chair where the activity's for her 100th birthday were taking place. Grandma couldn't talk very well but she could write notes fairly well when she needed to &lt;br&gt; communicate.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; After a short time out on the lawn Grandma started leaning off to the right and some family members grabbed her and straightened her up and stuffed pillows on her right.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A short time later she started leaning off to her left and again the family grabbed her and stuffed pillows on her left.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Soon she started leaning forward and the family members again grabbed her and tied a pillow case around her waist to hold her up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; A nephew who arrived late came running up to Grandma, you're looking good, how are they treating you?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Grandma took out her little notepad and slowly wrote a note to the nephew, &amp;quot;They won't let me fart.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-6438643187410692755?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/6438643187410692755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=6438643187410692755&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6438643187410692755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/6438643187410692755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/family-wheeled-grandma-out-on-lawn-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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-8093066823101002061.post-3140817761933696445</id><published>2006-09-03T16:48:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T16:48:48.806+10:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font size=3&gt;Tom did like he always does, kissing his wife, crawling into bed and falling to sleep. All of a sudden, he wakes up with an elderly man dressed in a white robe standing in front of his bed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?...and who are you?&amp;quot; he asked.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;This is not your bedroom,&amp;quot; the man replied, &amp;quot;I am St. Peter, and you are in heaven.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;WHAT! Are you saying I'm dead? I don't want to die! I'm too young,&amp;quot; said Tom. &amp;quot;I want you to send me back immediately.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;It's not that easy&amp;quot;, said St.Peter. &amp;quot;You can only return as a dog or a hen. The choice is your own.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Tom thought about it for a while, and figured out that being a dog is too tiring, but a hen probably has a nice and relaxed life. Running around with a rooster can't be that bad.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;I want to return as a hen,&amp;quot; Tom replied. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; And in the next second, he found himself in a chicken run, really nicely feathered. But now he felt like his rear end was gonna blow. Then along came the rooster.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Hey, you must be the new hen St. Peter told me about,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;How do you like being a hen?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Well, OK I guess, but it feels like my a*s is about to explode.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Oh that!&amp;quot; said the rooster. &amp;quot;That's only the ovulation going on. You need to lay an egg.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;How do I do that?&amp;quot; Tom asked. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Cluck twice, and then you push all you can.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; Tom clucked twice and pushed more than he was good for, and then 'plop' an egg was on the ground.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Wow&amp;quot; Tom said. &amp;quot;That felt really good!&amp;quot; So he clucked again and squeezed. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; And you better believe that there was yet another egg on the ground.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; The third time he clucked, he heard his wife shout:&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Tom!! For cryin' out loud! Wake up! You're sh*ttin' all over the bed!&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ebearweb.net/" eudora="autourl"&gt; http://www.ebearweb.net&lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8093066823101002061-3140817761933696445?l=jokesareus3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/feeds/3140817761933696445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8093066823101002061&amp;postID=3140817761933696445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3140817761933696445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8093066823101002061/posts/default/3140817761933696445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jokesareus3.blogspot.com/2006/09/tom-did-like-he-always-does-kissing-his.html' title=''/><author><name>Stephen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01545291239153041817</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>
