<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYCQ34zcCp7ImA9WhRaEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762</id><updated>2012-02-15T11:39:22.088+05:30</updated><category term="pictures" /><category term="jokes" /><category term="lawyers" /><category term="magic" /><category term="doctors" /><category term="marriage" /><category term="geeks" /><category term="police" /><category term="yuck" /><category term="army" /><category term="weird mysteries" /><category term="priests" /><category term="sales" /><category term="sports" /><category term="next question please" /><category term="little johnny" /><category term="redneck" /><category term="scottish" /><category term="navy" /><category term="kids" /><category term="prayer" /><category term="politicians" /><category term="guy" /><category term="gay" /><category term="women" /><category term="blonde" /><category term="tech" /><category term="grafitti" /><category term="canadian" /><category term="good advice" /><category term="golf" /><category term="old age" /><category term="british" /><category term="food for thought" /><category term="happy" /><category term="computers" /><category term="adult" /><category term="employment" /><category term="macho" /><category term="misc" /><category term="irish" /><category term="teenagers" /><category term="laughter" /><category term="how true" /><category term="favourites" /><category term="joke" /><category term="quotes" /><category term="men" /><category term="stupid" /><category term="clean" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="professionals at work" /><title>Jlog</title><subtitle type="html">This is not a Blog, it's a Jlog - a Joke Log. I didn't write these jokes, but I get so many good ones in my mail everyday, that I put them up here for your reading pleasure.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1291</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/PmGfg" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/pmgfg" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYCQ34yfSp7ImA9WhRaEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-5014719222861722172</id><published>2012-02-15T11:39:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-02-15T11:39:22.095+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-15T11:39:22.095+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><title>Kids answers in school</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Some creative answers that kids have given in tests at school &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;You can listen to thunder and tell how close you came to getting hit. If you don't hear it, you got hit, so never mind. &lt;br /&gt;
There are 26 vitamins in all, but some of the letters are yet to be discovered. &lt;br /&gt;
Vacuums are nothings. We only mention them to let people know they're there. &lt;br /&gt;
The cause of perfume disappearing is evaporation. Evaporation gets blamed for a lot of things, like when people forget to put the top on. &lt;br /&gt;
Water vapor gets together in a cloud. When it is big enough to be called a drop, it does. &lt;br /&gt;
Mushrooms always grow in damp places, which is why they look like umbrellas. &lt;br /&gt;
Momentum is something you give a person when they go away. &lt;br /&gt;
Some people can tell what time it is by looking at the sun, but I have never been able to make out the numbers. &lt;br /&gt;
When planets run around and around in circles, we say they are orbiting. When people do it, we say they are crazy. &lt;br /&gt;
One of the main causes of dust is janitors. &lt;br /&gt;
A census taker is a man who goes from house to house increasing the population&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-5014719222861722172?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N_5WrOlhkNqqZyUszuRzkSJjewU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N_5WrOlhkNqqZyUszuRzkSJjewU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N_5WrOlhkNqqZyUszuRzkSJjewU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N_5WrOlhkNqqZyUszuRzkSJjewU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/ucpRJJAITjE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/5014719222861722172/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=5014719222861722172&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5014719222861722172?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5014719222861722172?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/ucpRJJAITjE/kids-answers-in-school.html" title="Kids answers in school" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/02/kids-answers-in-school.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YESXc5eyp7ImA9WhRbGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-4949122026223803501</id><published>2012-02-10T15:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-02-10T15:48:28.923+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-10T15:48:28.923+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="professionals at work" /><title>CIA meeting</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A&amp;nbsp; CIA agent is sent on an assignment to Ireland. When he gets there, he's supposed to meet a contact named "Murphy". When he meets his contact, he's supposed to identify himself by saying, "It's a lovely day, and I'm sure it will be even better tonight." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So he arrives and heads to one of the pubs. Inside, he walks up to the bartender and says, "Excuse me, I'm looking for a man named Murphy." To which the Bartender replies, "Well, if you're looking' for Murphy the post man, he'll be at the post office, and Murphy the Police Man will be at the Police department, and if you're looking' for Murphy the Bartender, that's me." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So the man thinks about it for a minute, and then says to the Bartender, "It's a lovely day, and I'm sure it will be even better tonight." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the Bartender says, "Oh, your looking' for Murphy the Spy, are yeh?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-4949122026223803501?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VK7ftkW_nfe-3GnkUz1R7QvTzok/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VK7ftkW_nfe-3GnkUz1R7QvTzok/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VK7ftkW_nfe-3GnkUz1R7QvTzok/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VK7ftkW_nfe-3GnkUz1R7QvTzok/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/syVsi3Bs91I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/4949122026223803501/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=4949122026223803501&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/4949122026223803501?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/4949122026223803501?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/syVsi3Bs91I/cia-meeting.html" title="CIA meeting" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/02/cia-meeting.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08HSXo6cSp7ImA9WhRbEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-2254479875209574651</id><published>2012-02-02T16:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:53:58.419+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-02T16:53:58.419+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage" /><title>Marriage anniversary</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;The old farmer and his wife were leaning against the edge to the pigpen when his wife longingly recalled that the next week would be their golden wedding anniversary. "Let's have a party, Joe," she said. "Let's kill the pig." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Joe scratched his head. "Gee, Philomena," he finally said, "I don't see why the pig should take the blame for something that happened fifty years ago."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-2254479875209574651?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bzklDWrz-zxADqO2I6CehGIUWws/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bzklDWrz-zxADqO2I6CehGIUWws/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bzklDWrz-zxADqO2I6CehGIUWws/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bzklDWrz-zxADqO2I6CehGIUWws/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/29KGjtsGwC0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/2254479875209574651/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=2254479875209574651&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/2254479875209574651?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/2254479875209574651?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/29KGjtsGwC0/marriage-anniversary.html" title="Marriage anniversary" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/02/marriage-anniversary.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEFQHg6eyp7ImA9WhRUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-637316863680050565</id><published>2012-01-25T18:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-25T18:50:11.613+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T18:50:11.613+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weird mysteries" /><title>Dark in here</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A woman was&amp;nbsp;having an affair during the day while her husband was away&amp;nbsp;at work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her nine-year-old son comes home unexpectedly, sees the&amp;nbsp;lovers and hides in the bedroom cupboard to watch. Then the woman's husband unexpectedly comes home. She hides her lover in the cupboard, not realizing that her little boy is in there already.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little Boy says: "Dark in here."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Man says: "Yes, it is."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: "I have a soccer ball, do you want to buy it?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Man: "No, thanks."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: "My dad's outside, I'll call him if you don't buy it! because you are in&amp;nbsp;his house now"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Man: "OK, how much?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: "$1,000."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few weeks later it happened again, and the boy and the lover were in the cupboard together again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: "Dark in here."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Man: "Yes, it is."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: "I have soccer boots."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Man, remembering the last time, asks the boy: "How much?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Boy says :"$5,000."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Man says: "Fine, I will buy them."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few days later, the Father says to the boy: "Grab your ball and boots, let's go outside and have a game."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Boy says: "I can't, I sold them for $ 6,000."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Father says: "That's terrible to overcharge your friends like that... $ 6,000&amp;nbsp;is way more than those two things cost. I'm going to take you to church and&amp;nbsp;make you confess your sins"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They go to church and the father makes the little boy sit in the confession booth and&amp;nbsp;closes the door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Boy says: "Dark in here."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Priest says: "Don't start that again!..........THIS IS MY CHURCH, NOT YOUR DAD's&amp;nbsp;HOUSE ! "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-637316863680050565?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EWdQOeQCRkWPcjnXNbw6kfg7p1s/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EWdQOeQCRkWPcjnXNbw6kfg7p1s/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EWdQOeQCRkWPcjnXNbw6kfg7p1s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EWdQOeQCRkWPcjnXNbw6kfg7p1s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/sEmKAjcgJQw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/637316863680050565/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=637316863680050565&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/637316863680050565?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/637316863680050565?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/sEmKAjcgJQw/dark-in-here.html" title="Dark in here" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/dark-in-here.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ADSXc4cCp7ImA9WhRUEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-8226453852952061073</id><published>2012-01-23T10:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-23T10:46:18.938+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T10:46:18.938+05:30</app:edited><title>What the British say, and what they mean</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ww0fQC_jyIY/Txzs0on5xCI/AAAAAAAAAWY/ajMuCuCoxpc/s1600/Anglo-vs-EU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ww0fQC_jyIY/Txzs0on5xCI/AAAAAAAAAWY/ajMuCuCoxpc/s640/Anglo-vs-EU.jpg" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-8226453852952061073?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KiFmmBB6npKf5m6QfCr3xV8xGxU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KiFmmBB6npKf5m6QfCr3xV8xGxU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KiFmmBB6npKf5m6QfCr3xV8xGxU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KiFmmBB6npKf5m6QfCr3xV8xGxU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/lNgkpesD0PA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/8226453852952061073/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=8226453852952061073&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/8226453852952061073?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/8226453852952061073?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/lNgkpesD0PA/what-british-say-and-what-they-mean.html" title="What the British say, and what they mean" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ww0fQC_jyIY/Txzs0on5xCI/AAAAAAAAAWY/ajMuCuCoxpc/s72-c/Anglo-vs-EU.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/what-british-say-and-what-they-mean.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08HQH0zeCp7ImA9WhRVGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-4524466248826375224</id><published>2012-01-18T19:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-18T19:40:31.380+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T19:40:31.380+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blonde" /><title>Wise blind man</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A blind man wanders into a Female Biker Bar by mistake.He finds his way to a bar stool and orders some coffee. After sitting there for a while, he yells to the waiter, 'Hey, you wanna hear a blonde joke?'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The bar immediately falls absolutely silent. In a very deep, husky voice, the woman next to him says, 'Before you tell that joke, sir, I think it's only fair, given that you' re blind, that you should know five things:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1) The bartender is a blonde girl with a baseball bat.&lt;br /&gt;
2) The bouncer is a blonde girl.&lt;br /&gt;
3) I'm a 6 foot tall, 175 lb. blonde woman with a black belt in karate.&lt;br /&gt;
4) The woman sitting next to me is blonde and a professional weightlifter.&lt;br /&gt;
5) The lady to your right is blonde and a professional wrestler.&lt;br /&gt;
Now, think about it seriously, Mister. Do you still wanna tell that joke?'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The blind man thinks for a second, shakes his head, and mutters...'No, not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-4524466248826375224?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0TAmiU1oHsoXRVZWNCDAvuOf00/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0TAmiU1oHsoXRVZWNCDAvuOf00/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0TAmiU1oHsoXRVZWNCDAvuOf00/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0TAmiU1oHsoXRVZWNCDAvuOf00/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/NVM8eBdb4xM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/4524466248826375224/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=4524466248826375224&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/4524466248826375224?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/4524466248826375224?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/NVM8eBdb4xM/blonde.html" title="Wise blind man" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/05/blonde.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4HRXw4fCp7ImA9WhRVGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-3147649692365616488</id><published>2012-01-17T17:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-17T17:52:14.234+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T17:52:14.234+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weird mysteries" /><title>Robbery report</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A home owner files a robbery report at the police station and declares that the house has been burglarized by gays. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The policeman asks; "how do you know?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I came home, I discovered that my jewelry was missing and all my furniture had been tastefully rearranged. He replied.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-3147649692365616488?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q3USqaR3qENTq12KkcNk53vyhyk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q3USqaR3qENTq12KkcNk53vyhyk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q3USqaR3qENTq12KkcNk53vyhyk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q3USqaR3qENTq12KkcNk53vyhyk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/zu_kiG_GMSk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/3147649692365616488/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=3147649692365616488&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/3147649692365616488?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/3147649692365616488?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/zu_kiG_GMSk/robbery-report.html" title="Robbery report" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/robbery-report.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcAQHwzfSp7ImA9WhRVF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-3108894648932485427</id><published>2012-01-16T15:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-16T15:30:41.285+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-16T15:30:41.285+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="macho" /><title>Fight outside bar</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;At the end of the night a man leaves the bar. Outside he sees a nun. He walks over to her and slaps her in the face. Then he punches her in the stomach and knocks her over.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He then proceeds to kick her several times and when he's done he bends down to her and says, "not so tough tonight, are you Batman?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-3108894648932485427?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/43obwBy-JassDUmURCjHa7zm7GA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/43obwBy-JassDUmURCjHa7zm7GA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/43obwBy-JassDUmURCjHa7zm7GA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/43obwBy-JassDUmURCjHa7zm7GA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/BXN12evd3ik" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/3108894648932485427/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=3108894648932485427&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/3108894648932485427?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/3108894648932485427?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/BXN12evd3ik/fight-outside-bar.html" title="Fight outside bar" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/fight-outside-bar.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIBSX8-fip7ImA9WhRVFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-491954635689012275</id><published>2012-01-13T10:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-13T10:25:58.156+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-13T10:25:58.156+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="misc" /><title>Waste not, want not</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;At the end of the tax year, the Tax Office sent an inspector to audit the books of a Synagogue. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said, 'I notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle drippings?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Good question,' noted the Rabbi. 'We save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free box of candles.' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Oh,' replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But on he went, in his obnoxious way:'What about all these bread-wafer purchases? What do you do with the crumbs?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Ah, yes,' replied the Rabbi, realizing that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question. 'We collect them and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send us a free box of bread-wafers.' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'I see,' replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all Rabbi. 'Well, Rabbi,' he went on, 'what do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Here, too, we do not waste,' answered the Rabbi...............'What we do is save all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office, and about once a year they send us a complete dick'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-491954635689012275?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZgDgXfuKXwYPCn9ygPOuWIiXoZw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZgDgXfuKXwYPCn9ygPOuWIiXoZw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZgDgXfuKXwYPCn9ygPOuWIiXoZw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZgDgXfuKXwYPCn9ygPOuWIiXoZw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/xQQjVhEA-xY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/491954635689012275/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=491954635689012275&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/491954635689012275?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/491954635689012275?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/xQQjVhEA-xY/waste-not-want-not.html" title="Waste not, want not" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/waste-not-want-not.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AARH8-fyp7ImA9WhRVE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-221527451837380028</id><published>2012-01-12T15:19:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-12T15:19:05.157+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-12T15:19:05.157+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blonde" /><title>Horse riding</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A blond went to a dude ranch and signed up to go horseback riding. The cowboy who was assisting guests asked her what kind of saddle she used? She asked what kind do you have? They told her English and Western.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She asked the difference, they told her one had a horn and the other didn't. She said give me the one without a horn, "I don't expect to find much traffic!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-221527451837380028?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zRnubbMObEj3svEEJh9zWbUMDtU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zRnubbMObEj3svEEJh9zWbUMDtU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zRnubbMObEj3svEEJh9zWbUMDtU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zRnubbMObEj3svEEJh9zWbUMDtU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/wvJsn69B0BM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/221527451837380028/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=221527451837380028&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/221527451837380028?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/221527451837380028?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/wvJsn69B0BM/horse-riding.html" title="Horse riding" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/horse-riding.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQHR3Y5fSp7ImA9WhRVEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-9144108310644255805</id><published>2012-01-11T12:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-11T12:48:56.825+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-11T12:48:56.825+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="old age" /><title>Grandkids</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="WordSection1"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0000a1;"&gt;1. She was in the bathroom, putting on her makeup, under the watchful eyes of her young granddaughter, as she'd done many times before. After she applied her lipstick and started to leave, the little one said, "But Gramma, you forgot to kiss the toilet paper good-bye!" I will probably never put lipstick on again without thinking about kissing the toilet paper good-bye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #006000;"&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2.. My young grandson called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday. He asked me how old I was, and I told him, 62.&amp;nbsp; My grandson was quiet for a moment, and then he asked,&amp;nbsp; "Did you start at 1?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;3. After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair.. As she heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin. Finally, she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room,&amp;nbsp; putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;"Who was THAT?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #4181ff; font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0000a1;"&gt;4.. A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood was like: "We used to skate outside on a pond.&amp;nbsp; I had a swing made from a tire, it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods." The little girl was wide-eyed,&amp;nbsp; taking this all in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd gotten to know you sooner!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #006000;"&gt;5. My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?" I mentally polished my halo and I said, "No, how are we alike?''...... "You're both old," he replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;6. A little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather's word processor.&amp;nbsp; She told him she was writing a story. "What's it about?" he asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;"I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0000a1;"&gt;7. I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colours yet, so I decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what colour it was.&amp;nbsp; She would tell me and was always correct. It was fun for me, so I continued.&amp;nbsp; At last, she headed for the door, saying, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these yourself!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #82823f;"&gt;8. When my grandson Billy and I entered our vacation cabin,&amp;nbsp; we kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in.&amp;nbsp; Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, "It's no use Grandpa.&amp;nbsp; Now the mosquitoes are coming after us with flashlights."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;9. When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not sure..."&amp;nbsp; "Look in your underwear, Grandpa," he advised, "mine says I'm 4 to 6."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0000a1;"&gt;10. A second grader came home from school and said to her grandmother, "Grandma, guess what?&amp;nbsp; We learned how to make babies today."&amp;nbsp; The grandmother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool. &amp;nbsp;"That's interesting," she said,&amp;nbsp; "how do you make babies?"&amp;nbsp; "It's simple," replied the girl. "You just change 'y' to 'i' and add 'es'."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #006000;"&gt;11. Children's Logic: "Give me a sentence about a public servant," said a teacher. The small boy wrote:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #006000;"&gt;"The fireman came down the ladder pregnant." The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. "Don't you know what pregnant means?" she asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #006000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Sure," said the young boy confidently. "It means&amp;nbsp;carrying a child."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;12. A grandfather was delivering his grandchildren to their home one day when a fire truck zoomed past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog.&amp;nbsp; The children started discussing the dog's duties.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;"They use him to keep crowds back," said one child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;"No," said another. "He's just for good luck.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;A third child brought the argument to a close."They use&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;the dogs," she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrants."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0000a1;"&gt;13. A 6-year-old was asked where his grandma lived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0000a1;"&gt;"Oh," he said, "she lives at the airport, and when we want her, we just go get her. Then, when we're done having her visit, we take her back to the airport."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #006000;"&gt;14. Grandpa is the smartest man on earth!&amp;nbsp; He teaches me good good things, but I don't get to see him enough to get as smart as him!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #4181ff;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a00000;"&gt;15. My Grandparents are funny, when they bend over you&amp;nbsp; hear gas leaks, and they blame their dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-9144108310644255805?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sQZZ9YWoBuV7yYY6ldb5BmLpEy4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sQZZ9YWoBuV7yYY6ldb5BmLpEy4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sQZZ9YWoBuV7yYY6ldb5BmLpEy4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sQZZ9YWoBuV7yYY6ldb5BmLpEy4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/SIKuXxjXHxg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/9144108310644255805/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=9144108310644255805&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/9144108310644255805?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/9144108310644255805?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/SIKuXxjXHxg/grandkids.html" title="Grandkids" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/grandkids.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUHQXk6eyp7ImA9WhRWF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-3190550989838151140</id><published>2012-01-05T12:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:53:50.713+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-05T12:53:50.713+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stupid" /><title>Bar insult</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A construction worker walks into a bar. He's a rather large, menacing guy. He orders a beer, chugs it back, and then bellows, "All you guys on this side of the bar are cocksuckers!" A sudden silence descends. After a moment, he asks, "Anyone got a problem with that?" The silence lengthens. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He then chugs back another beer and growls, "And all you guys on this side of the bar are motherfuckers!" Once again, the bar is silent. He looks around belligerently and roars, "Anyone got a problem with that?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A lone man gets up from his stool unsteadily and starts to walk towards the man. The construction worker looks the man square in the eye and says, "You got a problem, buddy?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Oh no," insists the man. "I'm just on the wrong side of the bar"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-3190550989838151140?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1OoJZYQwE_lClipVNeYu0Cgo0vg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1OoJZYQwE_lClipVNeYu0Cgo0vg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/AQoA9L0Sqn8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/3190550989838151140/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=3190550989838151140&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/3190550989838151140?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/3190550989838151140?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/AQoA9L0Sqn8/bar-insult.html" title="Bar insult" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/bar-insult.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YCQnsycCp7ImA9WhRWFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-1873853176567303934</id><published>2012-01-01T21:56:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-01T21:56:03.598+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-01T21:56:03.598+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="misc" /><title>Free Haircut</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A man and a little boy entered a barbershop together. After the man received the full treatment: shave, shampoo, manicure, haircut, etc. he placed the boy in the chair."I'm going to buy a green tie to wear for the parade," he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes".&lt;br /&gt;
"When the boy's haircut was completed and the man still hadn't returned, the barber said, "Looks like your daddy's forgotten all about you."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"That wasn't my daddy," said the boy. "He just walked up, took me by the hand and said, Come on, son, we're gonna get a free haircut!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-1873853176567303934?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nmplY6ruDMSeO9ABSC6HsTrVl-w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nmplY6ruDMSeO9ABSC6HsTrVl-w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/kLGZ18Xpor8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/1873853176567303934/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=1873853176567303934&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/1873853176567303934?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/1873853176567303934?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/kLGZ18Xpor8/free-haircut.html" title="Free Haircut" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2012/01/free-haircut.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4HRX07fCp7ImA9WhRXE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-5459829761683298205</id><published>2011-12-20T13:45:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-12-20T13:45:34.304+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-20T13:45:34.304+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weird mysteries" /><title>Green garden-grass snakes can be dangerous. Yes, grass snakes, not rattlesnakes</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;A couple in  Rockwall, Texas had a lot of potted plants, and during a recent cold  spell, the wife was bringing a lot of them indoors to protect them from a  possible freeze. It turned out that a little green garden grass snake  was hidden in one of the plants and when it had warmed up, it slithered  out and the wife saw it go under the sofa. She let out a very loud  scream. The husband, who was taking a shower, ran out into the living  room naked to see what the problem was. She told him there was a snake  under the sofa. He got down on the floor on his hands and knees to look  for it. About that time the family dog came and cold-nosed him on the  leg. He thought the snake had bitten him and he fainted. His wife  thought he'd had a heart attack, so she called an ambulance. The  attendants rushed in and loaded him on the stretcher and started  carrying him out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;About that time the  snake came out from under the sofa and the Emergency Medical Technician  saw it and dropped his end of the stretcher. That's when the man broke  his leg and why he is in the hospital at Garland. The wife still had the  problem of the snake in the house, so she called on a neighbor man. He  volunteered to capture the snake. He armed himself with a rolled-up  newspaper and began poking under the couch. Soon he decided it was gone  and told the woman, who sat down on the sofa in relief. But in relaxing,  her hand dangled in between the cushions, where she felt the snake  wriggling around. She screamed and fainted, the snake rushed back under  the sofa, and the neighbor man, seeing her lying there passed out tried  to use CPR to revive her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The neighbor's  wife, who had just returned from shopping at the grocery store, saw her  husband's mouth on the woman's mouth and slammed her husband in the back  of the head with a bag of canned goods, knocking him out and cutting  his scalp to a point where it would need stitches. The noise woke the  woman from her dead faint and she saw her neighbor lying on the floor  with his wife bending over him, so she assumed he had been bitten by the  snake. She went to the kitchen, brought back a small bottle of whiskey,  and began pouring it down the man's throat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;By now the police  had arrived. They saw the unconscious man, smelled the whiskey, and  assumed that a drunken fight had occurred. They were about to arrest  them all, when the two women tried to explain how it all happened over a  little green snake. They called an ambulance, which took away the  neighbor and his sobbing wife. Just then the little snake crawled out  from under the couch. One of the policemen drew his gun and fired at it.  He missed the snake and hit the leg of the end table that was on one  side of the sofa. The table fell over and the lamp on it shattered and  as the bulb broke, it started a fire in the drapes. The other policeman  tried to beat out the flames and fell through the window into the yard  on top of the family dog, who, startled, jumped up and raced out into  the street, where an oncoming car swerved to avoid it and smashed into  the parked police car and set it on fire.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Meanwhile the burning drapes  had spread to the walls and the entire house was blazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Neighbors had  called the fire department and the arriving fire-truck had started  raising its ladder as they were halfway down the street. The rising  ladder tore out the overhead wires and put out the electricity and  disconnected the telephones in a ten-square city block area of south  Rockwall along Texas State Route 205.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Time passed  .......... Both men were discharged from the hospital, the house was  re-built, the police acquired a new car, and all was right with their  world .....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;About a year later  they were watching TV and the weatherman announced a cold snap for that  night. The husband asked his wife if she thought they should bring in  their plants for the night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: garamond,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;She shot him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-5459829761683298205?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ewVjrLQgQXIKrRWXxH6pr-3Ao0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ewVjrLQgQXIKrRWXxH6pr-3Ao0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ewVjrLQgQXIKrRWXxH6pr-3Ao0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ewVjrLQgQXIKrRWXxH6pr-3Ao0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/HupvBvOcPlo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/5459829761683298205/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=5459829761683298205&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5459829761683298205?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5459829761683298205?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/HupvBvOcPlo/green-garden-grass-snakes-can-be.html" title="Green garden-grass snakes can be dangerous. Yes, grass snakes, not rattlesnakes" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/12/green-garden-grass-snakes-can-be.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04EQ384fCp7ImA9WhRXEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-5885847630670396091</id><published>2011-12-19T15:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-12-19T15:48:22.134+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-19T15:48:22.134+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="computers" /><title>Dead wife</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Cop: I am sorry sir, but your wife has been involved in a fatal car accident; we'd like you to come down to the morgue so that you can identify the body.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
John: I'm really busy right now, can't you take a photo and tag it to me on Facebook? If it's her, I'll click 'like'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-5885847630670396091?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rZ7DcGZ8WxuRf7ufWOYFLd8Sdws/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rZ7DcGZ8WxuRf7ufWOYFLd8Sdws/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rZ7DcGZ8WxuRf7ufWOYFLd8Sdws/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rZ7DcGZ8WxuRf7ufWOYFLd8Sdws/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/rwtx6qG8UiM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/5885847630670396091/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=5885847630670396091&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5885847630670396091?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5885847630670396091?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/rwtx6qG8UiM/dead-wife.html" title="Dead wife" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/12/dead-wife.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8FQ3g4fSp7ImA9WhRQF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-2675057029674103595</id><published>2011-12-13T14:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-12-13T14:46:52.635+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-13T14:46:52.635+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="old age" /><title>Mr.Periwinkle</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Old Mr. Periwinkle was the nastiest, meanest patient in the hospital. So one day, Betty, the head nurse, decided to try and cheer him up. She brings him a beautiful bouquet of flowers and sets them down on his bedside table. Mean old Mr. Periwinkle promptly picks them up, throws them up against the wall, breaks the vase and flowers go everywhere. Betty patiently cleans up the mess and leaves the room.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later in the day, Betty comes back in and says to Mr. Periwinkle, "It's time to take your temperature, Mr. Periwinkle." He grumpily opens his mouth but Betty says, "No, not this time Mr. Periwinkle. We have to check it in the other end this time." Grumbling, Mr. Periwinkle turns over and sticks his rear end up in the air. Betty sticks it in and leaves the room.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A while later, Dr. Brown is walking past Mr. Periwinkles room and looks in. He does a double take and walks in his room. "Mr. Periwinkle, what are you doing?" he says. "Oh that old nurse is taking my temperature." he replies. To which Dr. Brown says, "With a daisy?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-2675057029674103595?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h0IA0449AUN1s2YVoS4A9ZOb6DI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h0IA0449AUN1s2YVoS4A9ZOb6DI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h0IA0449AUN1s2YVoS4A9ZOb6DI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h0IA0449AUN1s2YVoS4A9ZOb6DI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/a9EumxCGdPY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/2675057029674103595/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=2675057029674103595&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/2675057029674103595?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/2675057029674103595?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/a9EumxCGdPY/mrperiwinkle.html" title="Mr.Periwinkle" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/12/mrperiwinkle.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMERno7eSp7ImA9WhRRFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-6116108885897289749</id><published>2011-11-29T16:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-29T16:30:07.401+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-29T16:30:07.401+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weird mysteries" /><title>Drunk</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A drunk had passed out in an alley way and along came a queer. The queer looked about and, not seeing anyone, pulled down the drunk's pants and screwed him in the ass. When he finished he placed a $20.00 in the drunk's pocket.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next morning the drunk was searching his pockets for a cigarette when he discovered the $20.00 bill. He immediately dashed to the corner liquor store and asked for $20.00 worth of the cheapest wine in the house. He received 4 bottles of wine and proceeded to drink every drop. He passed out in the same alley way and along came the same queer.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not seeing anyone about, he remembered how good it was the night before so he pulled down the drunk's pants and screwed him in the ass, again. Again he tucked a $20.00 in the drunk's pocket. In the morning the drunk found the $20.00 and headed for the same liquor store. Again he asked for $20.00 worth of the cheapest wine in the house. Again he received 4 bottles. Again he drank every drop. Again he passed out in the same alleyway. Along came this same queer, only this time he had a friend with him.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After removing the ole boy's trousers they both screwed him in the ass. When they finished they both placed a $20.00 bill in his pocket. The next morning the drunk found the $40.00 and high tailed it to the same liquor store. Upon entering the clerk said, "I know! You want $20.00 worth of the cheapest wine I've got in the house."  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Nope!" the wino said. "I want $40.00 worth of the best wine you've got in the house. That cheap stuff makes my asshole sore!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-6116108885897289749?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/91KzuomozjBOCxNmdJpSg-nc9e0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/91KzuomozjBOCxNmdJpSg-nc9e0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/91KzuomozjBOCxNmdJpSg-nc9e0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/91KzuomozjBOCxNmdJpSg-nc9e0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/J65-mWEh-qY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/6116108885897289749/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=6116108885897289749&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/6116108885897289749?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/6116108885897289749?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/J65-mWEh-qY/drunk.html" title="Drunk" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/drunk.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQNRXY7eCp7ImA9WhRREkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-7440390139648857396</id><published>2011-11-25T14:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-25T14:59:54.800+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-25T14:59:54.800+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="misc" /><title>Penguin</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A penguin is having problems with his car so he drops it off at the workshop and asks the mechanic to check it out while he goes and gets an ice-cream. (Penguins like ice-cream as everyone knows).  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is very difficult to eat an ice-cream with flippers and the penguin gets it all over his face. Soon after, he returns to the workshop and asks what the problem was with his car. The mechanic says, "It looks like you've just blown a seal" to which the penguin replies, "No, I've just been eating ice-cream".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-7440390139648857396?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QfvfHCE3R4Ek4JRTChIFQsGRNlo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QfvfHCE3R4Ek4JRTChIFQsGRNlo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QfvfHCE3R4Ek4JRTChIFQsGRNlo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QfvfHCE3R4Ek4JRTChIFQsGRNlo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/QpPGoiuV9xk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/7440390139648857396/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=7440390139648857396&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/7440390139648857396?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/7440390139648857396?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/QpPGoiuV9xk/penguin.html" title="Penguin" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/penguin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4CSXg9fSp7ImA9WhRREEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-5448920514864112605</id><published>2011-11-23T17:19:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-23T17:19:28.665+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-23T17:19:28.665+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="men" /><title>Brain cell</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A female brain cell was lost one day, and found itself inside a man's head. Looking around, she saw that it was all very dark and empty. She started to get a little afraid, so she called out nervously, "Is anyone here?" With the only thing coming back to her being was the echo of her own voice; she called a little louder, "Can anyone hear me?" Still there was no response.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By now the female brain cell was quite frightened and she called out loudly again, "IS THERE ANYONE HERE!"  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From far away she heard a little voice reply, "Hello, were all down here…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-5448920514864112605?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/23aO13TSFXBKmJA1IlZgrN0yi-g/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/23aO13TSFXBKmJA1IlZgrN0yi-g/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/23aO13TSFXBKmJA1IlZgrN0yi-g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/23aO13TSFXBKmJA1IlZgrN0yi-g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/9DaXq1uCNFY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/5448920514864112605/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=5448920514864112605&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5448920514864112605?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5448920514864112605?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/9DaXq1uCNFY/brain-cell.html" title="Brain cell" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/brain-cell.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08AQ348eSp7ImA9WhRSE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-2448318514716390414</id><published>2011-11-15T15:07:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-15T15:07:22.071+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-15T15:07:22.071+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blonde" /><title>Blonde gambler</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Two bored casino dealers were waiting at a craps table. A very attractive blonde lady arrived and bet twenty thousand dollars on a single roll of the dice. She said, " I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm nude."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With that she stripped from her neck down, rolled the dice and yelled, "Mama needs new clothes!"&lt;br /&gt;
Then she hollered..."YES! YES! I WON! I WON!" She jumped up and down and hugged each of the dealers. With that she picked up all the money and clothes and quickly departed. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The dealers just stared at each other dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The other answered, "I thought YOU were watching!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Moral of the story: Not all blondes are dumb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-2448318514716390414?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lXE6Nldm5Jjh892sIvRHYJaJh0I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lXE6Nldm5Jjh892sIvRHYJaJh0I/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lXE6Nldm5Jjh892sIvRHYJaJh0I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lXE6Nldm5Jjh892sIvRHYJaJh0I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/kwgT082UwGA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/2448318514716390414/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=2448318514716390414&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/2448318514716390414?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/2448318514716390414?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/kwgT082UwGA/blonde-gambler.html" title="Blonde gambler" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/blonde-gambler.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8MRXg7eip7ImA9WhRTFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-8779956686776353282</id><published>2011-11-04T18:51:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-11-04T18:51:24.602+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-04T18:51:24.602+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="politicians" /><title>Flight conversation</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A congressman was seated next to a little girl on an airplane so he turned to her and said, "Do you want to talk? Flights go quicker if you strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little girl, who had just started to read her book, replied to the total stranger, "What would you want to talk about?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Oh, I don't know," said the congressman as he smiled smugly, "How about global warming; universal health care; or stimulus packages?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"OK," she said. "Those could be interesting topics but let me ask you a question first. A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat the same stuff - grass. Yet a deer excretes little pellets, while a cow turns out a flat patty, but a horse produces clumps. Why do you suppose that is?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The legislator, visibly surprised by the little girl's intelligence, thinks about it and says, "Hmmm, I have no idea."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To which the little girl replies, "Do you really feel qualified to discuss global warming, universal health care, or the economy, when you don't know shit!". And then she went back to reading her book&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-8779956686776353282?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-4gZtcNDwggfK9aFrw5N8_qYDIs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-4gZtcNDwggfK9aFrw5N8_qYDIs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/Yrtf5Afg7Rw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/8779956686776353282/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=8779956686776353282&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/8779956686776353282?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/8779956686776353282?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/Yrtf5Afg7Rw/flight-conversation.html" title="Flight conversation" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/11/flight-conversation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUGQ389fyp7ImA9WhdaF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-7391277483178400431</id><published>2011-10-27T14:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-27T14:00:22.167+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-27T14:00:22.167+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pictures" /><title>Special petrol?</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RbLFAKaLuJI/TleP5v59r1I/AAAAAAAAAV4/TrEm6E1QB3g/s1600/Gay+service+station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RbLFAKaLuJI/TleP5v59r1I/AAAAAAAAAV4/TrEm6E1QB3g/s1600/Gay+service+station.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b8juzT3YFApPadnWXCXknRjTRCo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b8juzT3YFApPadnWXCXknRjTRCo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b8juzT3YFApPadnWXCXknRjTRCo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b8juzT3YFApPadnWXCXknRjTRCo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/OLXU9MK48Xw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/7391277483178400431/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=7391277483178400431&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/7391277483178400431?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/7391277483178400431?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/OLXU9MK48Xw/special-petrol.html" title="Special petrol?" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RbLFAKaLuJI/TleP5v59r1I/AAAAAAAAAV4/TrEm6E1QB3g/s72-c/Gay+service+station.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/10/special-petrol.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AMQno9fCp7ImA9WhdaEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-5921646953671954517</id><published>2011-10-19T16:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-19T16:26:23.464+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-19T16:26:23.464+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="misc" /><title>No more Windows for Punjab</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Microsoft's Bill Gates decided not to invest further in Punjab after receiving a letter from Mr Banta Singh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To : Bill Gates, Microsoft&lt;br /&gt;
From : Banta Singh of Punjab&lt;br /&gt;
Date : 1 April 2011&lt;br /&gt;
Subject : Problems with my new computer&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dear Mr. Bill Gates,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We bought a computer for our home and we have found some problems, which I want to bring to your notice..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. There is a button 'start' but there is no 'stop' button. We request you to check this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. One doubt is whether any 're-scooter' is available in system? I find only 're-cycle', but I own a scooter at my home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. There is 'Find' button but it is not working. My wife lost the door key and we tried a lot to trace the key with this ' find 'button, but was unable to trace. Please rectify this problem.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. My child learnt 'Microsoft word' now he wants to learn 'Microsoft sentence', so when will you provide that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. I bought computer, CPU, mouse and keyboard, but there is only one icon which shows 'My Computer': when will you provide the remaining items?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
6. It is surprising that windows says 'MY Pictures' but there is not even a single picture of mine. So when will you keep my photo in that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
7. There is 'MICROSOFT OFFICE' what about 'MICROSOFT HOME' since I use the PC only at home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
8. You provide 'My Recent Documents'. When you will provide 'My Past Documents'?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
9. You provide 'My Network Places'. For God's sake please do not provide 'My Secret Places'. I do not want to let my wife know where I go after office hours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Regards,&lt;br /&gt;
Banta&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last one Mr. Bill Gates&lt;br /&gt;
PS: Sir, how is it that your name is Gates but you are selling WINDOWS? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-5921646953671954517?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GYcyW59CD9lPsuDb5ooGw9uegr8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GYcyW59CD9lPsuDb5ooGw9uegr8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/IR6s-k5KA-4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/5921646953671954517/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=5921646953671954517&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5921646953671954517?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/5921646953671954517?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/IR6s-k5KA-4/no-more-windows-for-punjab.html" title="No more Windows for Punjab" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/10/no-more-windows-for-punjab.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MMRXk6cSp7ImA9WhdbGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-612005118759400510</id><published>2011-10-17T14:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-17T14:21:24.719+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-17T14:21:24.719+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="how true" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="old age" /><title>Dig out of grave</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;An old man and woman were married for many years, even though they hated each other. Whenever there was a confrontation, yelling could be heard long into the night. The old man would shout, 'When I die, I will dig my way up and out of the grave and come back and haunt you for the rest of your life!' &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Neighbors feared him. They believed he practiced magic, because of the many strange occurrences that took place in their neighborhood. The old man liked the fact that he was feared.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To everyone's relief, he died of a heart attack when he was 88. His wife had a closed casket at the wake. After the burial, she went straight to the local bar and began to party, as if there was no tomorrow. Her neighbors, concerned for her safety, asked, 'Aren't you afraid that he may indeed be able to dig his way out of the grave and haunt you for the rest of your life?'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The wife put down her drink and said, 'Let him dig....... I had him buried upside down.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And you know men won't ask for directions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-612005118759400510?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kjwd67dXhIJM7Y1dqxMJThJoPP8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kjwd67dXhIJM7Y1dqxMJThJoPP8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/rq_m8YaI4DM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/612005118759400510/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=612005118759400510&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/612005118759400510?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/612005118759400510?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/rq_m8YaI4DM/dig-out-of-grave.html" title="Dig out of grave" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/10/dig-out-of-grave.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ECQ309fSp7ImA9WhdbEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778754632692753762.post-4583668360268105546</id><published>2011-10-08T12:04:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-08T12:04:22.365+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-08T12:04:22.365+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="redneck" /><title>Not drinking</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;One day, two friends, Bubba and Earl were driving down the road drinking a couple of buds. The passenger: Bubba said, "Look up ahead Earl, It's a police roadblock! We're going to get busted for drinking these beers!"  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Don't worry Bubba," Earl said. We'll just pull over and finish these beers, peel off the label and stick it on our foreheads, then throw the bottles under the seat."  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"What for?" asked Bubba. "Just let me do the talking, said Earl. They finished their beers threw the empty bottles under the seat and slapped the labels on their foreheads.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When they reached the roadblock, the sheriff asked,"Have you boys been drinking?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"No sir" said Earl "We're on the patch."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778754632692753762-4583668360268105546?l=thedumps.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zk58_FyR9-ULGUlqzWBzXTyFGHU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zk58_FyR9-ULGUlqzWBzXTyFGHU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~4/04ZGVsr0wXA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thedumps.blogspot.com/feeds/4583668360268105546/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778754632692753762&amp;postID=4583668360268105546&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/4583668360268105546?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778754632692753762/posts/default/4583668360268105546?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/PmGfg/~3/04ZGVsr0wXA/not-drinking.html" title="Not drinking" /><author><name>Pranav</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/437828/2/istockphoto_437828_giant_smiley_big_smile.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thedumps.blogspot.com/2011/10/not-drinking.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

