<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><rss xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" version="2.0"><channel><title>jokes</title><description></description><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</managingEditor><pubDate>Thu, 24 Oct 2024 00:54:16 -0700</pubDate><generator>Blogger http://www.blogger.com</generator><openSearch:totalResults xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">177</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/</link><language>en-us</language><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:subtitle/><itunes:owner><itunes:email>noreply@blogger.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><item><title>Appliance Store</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/appliance-store.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:46:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-7074339716742728311</guid><description>A blonde goes into an appliance store looking for a tv. After a few minutes, she picks one out and approaches the salesman. "I want to buy this television," she says. The salesman replies, "Sorry, we don't serve blondes here." She gets mad, leaves and goes home. She dyes her hair brown and returns to the store. "I want to buy this television." she says to the salesman, getting the same response; "Sorry miss, we don't serve blondes here." She leaves again, frustrated. She goes home and proceeds to shave her head, eyebrows and all, leaving no visible trace of blonde hair on her head. Upon returning to the store, she once again approaches the salesman. "Sir, I would like to purchase this television, and I don't want any problems." To which the salesman replies, "Sorry Miss, we don't serve blondes." Fed up with this, she cries, "How can you tell that I am blonde? I have dyed my hair and even resorted to shaving my head!" To which the salesman replied, "Well, Miss, that television you are trying to buy is a microwave!"</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></item><item><title>The Bar</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/bar.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:46:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-7956331516580281591</guid><description>Three blondes walked into a bar. The bartender asked the first what she wanted. She replied "I'll have a bl." He thought a moment and then asked her "What's a bl?" She replied, "Well, duh, a bl is a Bud Lite."  He turned to the second one and asked what she wanted. She replied "Make mine a ml." He thought ok, if a bl is Bud Lite, then ml could be Michelob or something, and said, "OK, what's a ml?" She replied, "Well, duh, it's a Miller Lite."  He then turned to the third one and asked what she wanted. She replied "I'll have a 15." He said, "Ok, bl is Bud Lite, and ml is Miller Lite, but I have never heard of a 15. What is it?"  She said, "Well, duh, it's a 7-7."</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>River</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/river.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:45:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-29841263348421515</guid><description>Three blondes were sitting by the side of a river holding fishing  poles with the lines in the water.  A game warden came up behind  them, tapped one on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, ladies, I'd  like to see your fishing licenses."  "We don't have any." replied the first blonde.  "Well, if you're going to fish, you need fishing licenses."  "But officer," replied the second blonde, "we aren't fishing.  We all have magnets at the end of our lines and we're collecting debris off the bottom of  the river."  The warden lifted up all the lines and, sure enough, there were magnets tied on the end of each line.  "Well, I know of no law against it," said the warden, "take all the debris you want." And with that, he left.  As soon as he was out of sight, the three blondes started laughing hysterically.  "What a dumb cop," the second blonde said to the other two, "doesn't he know that there are steelhead trout in this river?!"</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Old Car</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/old-car.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:44:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-3230678109427569895</guid><description>A blonde tried to sell her old car. She was having a lot of problems selling  it, because the car had 250,000 miles on it. One day, she told her problem to a brunette she worked with at a salon. The brunette told her, "There is a possibility to make the car easier to sell, but it's not legal."  "That doesn't matter," replied the blonde, "if I only can sell the car."  "Okay," said the brunette. "Here is the address of a friend of mine. He owns a car repair shop. Tell him I sent you and he will turn the counter in your car back to 50,000 miles.  Then it should not be a problem to sell your car."  The following weekend, the blonde made the trip to the mechanic.  About one  month after that, the brunette asked the blonde, "Did you sell your car?"  "No," replied the blonde, "why should I? It only has 50,000 miles on it."</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Disneyland</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/disneyland_26.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:44:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-2511272797875408662</guid><description>A blond was driving down the highway to Disneyland when he saw a  sign that said "DISNEYLAND LEFT." After thinking for a minute, he  said to himself, "oh well!" and turned around and drove home. On his way home, the same blond drove past another sign that said   "CLEAN RESTROOMS EIGHT MILES." By the time he drove eight miles,  he had cleaned 43 restrooms.</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Lie Detector</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/lie-detector.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:40:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-173639181318142323</guid><description>A professor invented a lie detecting chair. Whenever anybody sitting  in it told a lie, the chair would open up and dump the liar on the floor. During an experiment, a brunette sat in the chair and the professor  asked her to tell about herself. She began, "I think you are the best teacher I've ever had." The chair immediately dumped her on the floor. After the brunette left in a snit, a blond sat in the chair. The  professor asked him to tell something of his life. He began, "I think -" The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the floor.</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>The Farm</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/farm.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:40:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-9115133551512275576</guid><description>A blond lived on a farm. He didn't get many visitors, so I went to see him...when I got there, he was standing stiff as a board, out in the middle of the cow paddock. I yelled out to him, and asked what he was doing standing out there all still and straight. He replied that he was trying to win a Noble Peace prize. I said, "Well, that's great, but what are you doing in the paddock?" He replied, "I was reading the newspaper, and it said all you had to do to win the Noble Peace prize was to be outstanding in your field."</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Car</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/car.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:39:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-409699882355679736</guid><description>Q: Did you hear about the blonde who tried to blow up her husband's car?&lt;br /&gt; A: She burned her lips on the tailpipe.</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Heavenly</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/heavenly.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:38:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-3551055814529881620</guid><description>A dumb Blonde died and went to Heaven. When she got to the Pearly Gates, she met Saint Peter who said, "Before you get to come into Heaven, you have to pass a test." "Oh, No!" she said but Saint Peter said not to worry he'd make it easy. "Who was God's son?" said Saint Peter. The dumb Blonde thought for a few minutes and said "Andy!" "That's interesting... What made you say that?" said Saint Peter Then She started to sing "Andy walks with me! Andy talks with me! Andy tells me..."</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>The Mirror</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/mirror.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:37:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-919265948062166918</guid><description>Ok once there was a magical mirror and if you lied in front of it youd disappear from existance... so there was a brunette, a redhead, and a blonde. The brunette went up to it and said,"I think that blondes are nice".... poof she disappeared. So the redhead went up to it and said,"I'm a virgin" poof she dissappeared. The blonde went up to it and said,"I Think" poof she was gone.</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>$100,000 tree</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/100000-tree.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:36:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-5726949495278524011</guid><description>There was a blond driving down a road and spotted at the sign that is on a tree next to a mantion that said $100,000. she called the number and said "i want this item and i will send the money as soon as i get home. three weeks later she got a packege in the mail that had keys so she caled the guy and asked "what are the keys for" the guy said " they are for the mantion. the blond said "Wow, i thought that i was buying the tree.</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>The blonde and the iron board</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/blonde-and-iron-board.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:35:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-4601808057632030619</guid><description>-  What is the difference between and ironboard and a blond?  &lt;br /&gt;-  The legs of an iron are hard to open.</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Bad Day</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/bad-day.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:34:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-3432339236262847752</guid><description>Q: How do you know when a blonde is having a bad day?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: When her tampon is behind her ear and she can't find her pencil.</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Kill a blonde</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/kill-blonde.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:33:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-5370368304710169151</guid><description>how do u kill a blonde...... put a scratch and sniff sticker at the bottom of a pool</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Land on the sun</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/land-on-sun.html</link><category>Blonde joke</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:32:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-497861838368093174</guid><description>&lt;span class="normal"&gt; A Russian, an American, and a Blonde were talking one day. The  Russian said, "We were the first in space!" The American  said,"We were the first on the moon!" The Blonde said, "So  what, we're going to be the first on the sun!" The Russian and  the American looked at each other and shook their heads. "You  can't land on the sun, you idiot! You'll burn up!" said the  Russian.. To which the Blonde replied, "We're not stupid, you  know. We're going at night!" &lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>The bear</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/bear.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:36:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-781469773962358576</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A priest, a Pentecostal preacher and a Rabbi all served as chaplains  &lt;br /&gt;to the students of Northern Michigan University in Marquette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They would get together two or three times a week for coffee and to talk shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, someone made the comment that preaching to people isn't really all that hard. A real challenge would be to preach to a bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing led to another and they decided to do an experiment. They would all go out into the woods, find a bear, preach to it, and attempt to convert it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven days later, they're all together to discuss the experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father Flannery, who has his arm in a sling, is on crutches, and has various bandages on his body and limbs, goes first. "Well," he says, "I went into the woods to find me a bear. And when I found him I began to read to him from the Catechism. Well, that bear wanted nothing to do with me and began to slap me around. So I quickly grabbed my holy water, sprinkled him and, Holy Mary Mother of&lt;br /&gt;God, he became as gentle a lamb. The bishop is coming out next week to give him first communion and confirmation."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reverend Billy Bob spoke next. He was in a wheelchair, with an arm and both legs in casts, and an IV drip. In his best fire and brimstone oratory he claimed, " WELL brothers, you KNOW that we don't sprinkle! I went out and I FOUND me a bear. And then I began to read&lt;br /&gt;to my bear from God's HOLY WORD! But that bear wanted nothing to do with me. So I took HOLD of him and we began to wrestle. We wrestled down one hill, UP another and DOWN another until we came to a creek.&lt;br /&gt;So I quick DUNKED him and BAPTIZED his hairy soul.And just like you said, he became as gentle as a lamb. We spent the rest of the day praising Jesus."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They both looked down at the rabbi, who was lying in a hospital bed. He was in a body cast and traction with IV's and monitors running in and out of him. He was in bad shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi looks up and says, "Looking back on it, circumcision may not have been the best way to start."&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>The sermon</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/sermon.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:35:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-4631804522623653108</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The rabbi is speaking to his lower East Side congregation and he says, "with Hashem's help we shall walk but first, we must crawl." The congregation replies to the Rebbe with exclamations of "ahmein Rabbi, im yirtze Hashem we shall crawl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi then says, "and soon, we will run but before we can run, with Hashem's help, we must firts walk. Again, the pious members of the minyan all reply, "im yirtze Hashem, we shall walk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi then works himself into a rhetorical frenzy as he exclaims, and we shall reach the promised land. Hashem shall provide but first we must run. The ecstatic congregation gleefully shouts back ahmein rabbi, we shall run. Im yirtze Hashem, we shall run."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi concludes his sermon by stating, "and we will reach that promised land if you dig deep into your hearts and checkbooks and make a generous pledge to the building fund!!" The congregation then replies, crawl Rabbi, crawl. I'm yirtze Hashem, we shall crawl."&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>The Masserati</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/masserati.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:34:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-4757713417949113340</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A Jewish man buys a brand new Masserati. He loves the car so much that he wants to have it blessed by a rabbi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finds an Orthodox rabbi and asks him, "Rabbi, would you say a blessing over my new Masserati?" The rabbi thinks for a moment, looks at him strangely, and replies, "What's a Masserati?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the man finds a Conservative rabbi and asks him the same, "Rabbi, would you say a blessing over my new Masserati?" The rabbi thinks for a moment, looks at him strangely, and replies, "What's a Masserati?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly giving up all hope, the man finds a Reform rabbi and begs him, "Rabbi, would you say a blessing over my new Masserati?" The rabbi thinks for a moment, looks at him strangely, and replies, "What's a blessing?"&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>gentile and rabbi</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/gentile-and-rabbi.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:33:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-891155939282507278</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A gentile one asked Rabbi Goldberg, &lt;br /&gt;"Tell me, Rabbi, is it true that a Jew always answers a question with another one?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi eyed him suspiciously and replied&lt;br /&gt;"Who told you that?"&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Advertising</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/advertising.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:32:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-8028501764622631150</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Abraham took his son to see the Rabbi to have him circumcised. Just as he was arriving, he met the Rabbi, who informed him that he couldn't oblige as he was just going on holiday and would be late for the plane. "However", said the Rabbi, "I have a friend in Hatton Garden, London, who can help you out". He gave him the address and off Abraham and son went. When they arrived at the address, they found it to be a shop, apparently selling clocks and watches. They went in and enquired of the owner if he was the person recommended by the Rabbi. "Yes, my son, that's what I do for a living", was the reply. Said Abraham, "if you perform circumcisions for a living, why do you have clocks and watches in your window"? Came the reply, "What you want I should put in the window?&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>A Rabbi and the Pope</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/rabbi-and-pope.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:31:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-7873993124336624287</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A Rabbi visiting Rome had the good fortune to have an audience with the Pope. While talking about things, the Rabbi noticed a red phone on the Pope's desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rabbi asks what the phone was for. The Pope informs him that it's a direct line to G-d. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rabbi askes if he can use it and the pope says of course but that he should leave $100 for the call. The Rabbi thank him and uses the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months later, the Pope was visiting the US and makes sure to make a stop to visit his new Rabbi friend. While talking, the Pope notices a red phone on the Rabbi's desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pope asks if the phone is what he thinks it is and the Rabbi says of course. The Pope askes if he can use the phone and the Rabbi said that he may bt that he needed to leave $0.50 for the call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pope was surpised and asked, "You use my phone and I ask you to leave $100 and, yet, when I use your phone I am to leave only $0.50. Why is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rabbi smiled and replied, "Because here it is a local call."&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>When does life begin?</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/when-does-life-begin.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:30:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-8535904626607314430</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A priest, a vicar and a rabbi are asked the question "When does life begin?" &lt;br /&gt;The priest says: "The moment of conception". &lt;br /&gt;The vicar replies: "The moment of birth". &lt;br /&gt;The rabbi replies: "The moment the kids are married and the mortgage has been paid off." &lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>Angry Rabbi</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/angry-rabbi.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:29:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-6634728152124372564</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Moshe goes to see his Rabbi. "Rabbi, last week I missed saying grace after meals." &lt;br /&gt;"Why," asked the Rabbi. &lt;br /&gt;"Because I forgot to wash my hands before the meal." &lt;br /&gt;"That's twice you've broken the law but you still haven't told me why." &lt;br /&gt;"The food wasn't kosher." &lt;br /&gt;"You ate non-kosher food?" asked the Rabbi. &lt;br /&gt;"It wasn't a Jewish restaurant." &lt;br /&gt;"That makes it even worse," said the now angry Rabbi. "Couldn't you have eaten in a kosher one?" &lt;br /&gt;"What, on Yom Kippur?"  &lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>The Cow From Minsk</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/cow-from-minsk.html</link><category>Rabbi jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:27:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-2741462514307791544</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The only cow in a small town in Poland stopped giving milk. The people did some research and found that they could buy a cow from Moscow for 2,000 rubles, or one from Minsk for 1,000 rubles. Being frugal, they bought the cow from Minsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cow was wonderful. It produced lots of milk all the time, and the people were amazed and very happy. They decided to acquire a bull to mate with the cow and produce more cows like it. Then they would never have to worry about the milk supply again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They bought a bull and put it in the pasture with their beloved cow. However, whenever the bull came close to the cow, the cow would move away. No matter what approach the bull tried, the cow would move away from the bull and he could not succeed in his quest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people were very upset and decided to ask their wise rabbi, what to do. They told the rabbi what was happening. "Whenever the bull approaches our cow, she moves away. If he approaches from the back, she moves forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he approaches her from the front, she backs off. An approach from the side and she just walks away to the other side."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi thought about this for a minute and asked, "Did you buy this cow from Minsk?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people were dumbfounded, since they had never mentioned where they had gotten the cow. "You are truly a wise rabbi," they said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How did you know we got the cow from Minsk?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi answered sadly, "My wife is from Minsk." &lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><title>C.R. Eldrich</title><link>http://fun-a-blog.blogspot.com/2008/02/cr-eldrich.html</link><category>Yiddish jokes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Simon)</author><pubDate>Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:26:00 -0800</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8993746152160015171.post-2231367743623212975</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Abe runs into his old friend Hymiein Miami and yells, "Lipshitz, how've you been." Hymie whispers, "My name isn't Hymie Lipshitz any more. I've changed it to C.R. Eldrich." ""Where did you get such a fancy name from," asks Abe. Hymie replies, "Do you remember when we lived on the East Side in new York? I lived on Eldrich Street and alwasys thougt it was a classy name so I took it for myself!" Abe says, "And from where did you get the CR?" Hymie replies, "From the Corner of Rivington!"&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>