<?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;CUUBSHszfSp7ImA9WhRaFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:00:59.585-08:00</updated><category term="Michele Bachmann" /><category term="pirates" /><category term="The Sex Sandals" /><category term="Vaseline usage" /><category term="Bob and the Blonde" /><category term="pharmacy" /><category term="Member of Parliament" /><category term="woman" /><category term="aliens" /><category term="birds" /><category term="hell" /><category term="Advertisements" /><category term="Nailed" /><category term="Presidential Address" /><category term="The Noise" /><category term="lawyer" /><category term="Beerish Research" /><category term="Sex related accident" /><category term="girls" /><category term="Memorial service" /><category term="gas" /><category term="Recession Updates" /><category term="neologisms" /><category term="counsellor" /><category term="grandma" /><category term="work" /><category term="The New Harley Davidson" /><category term="The Band-Aids" /><category term="The Communication Gap" /><category term="girl friend" /><category term="bomb" /><category term="chinese doctor" /><category term="condom" /><category term="A woodpecking issue" /><category term="bitch" /><category term="monument" /><category term="The Breath Analyser" /><category term="hostel" /><category term="Dropping Fruits" /><category term="The First Word" /><category term="australia" /><category term="church" /><category term="The Aupair" /><category term="Lil Johnny Again" /><category term="old man" /><category term="old lady" /><category term="b" /><category term="Shopping Store" /><category term="love" /><category term="tiger woods" /><category term="tennis" /><category term="Lack of diversity" /><category term="The Story of two Guards" /><category term="sea" /><category term="Duck Shoot" /><category term="A little old Scotsman" /><category term="Visiting South Africa" /><category term="supermarket" /><category term="The  snake and the skunk" /><category term="christmas" /><category term="birth" /><category term="pub" /><category term="police" /><category term="Little Johnny" /><category term="Best Quotes Ever" /><category term="Alberta Cow" /><category term="airport" /><category term="The Night Out" /><category term="bet" /><category term="Friends for Men and Women" /><category term="The Story of a True Sardar" /><category term="computer" /><category term="Obama" /><category term="priest" /><category term="Cajones" /><category term="Mitt Romney" /><category term="he sign language" /><category term="Follow Him" /><category term="blonde" /><category term="It is the name afterall" /><category term="Rooster" /><category term="heat" /><category term="golf" /><category term="What a man" /><category term="confessional smile" /><category term="6th Grade History" /><category term="discrimination" /><category term="25th Marriage Anniversary" /><category term="size" /><category term="wife" /><category term="girlfriend" /><category term="Extra large" /><category term="Counting for me" /><category term="pussy" /><category term="Bar" /><category term="The Economic Slowdown" /><category term="men" /><category term="The wrong weapon" /><category term="Some humor before the markets open" /><category term="Supreme Court Ruling" /><category term="Sell off" /><category term="beer" /><category term="parrots" /><category term="Red Hair" /><category term="boss" /><category term="ATM" /><category term="One Shot" /><category term="hotel" /><category term="Visa Interview" /><category term="heaven" /><category term="A beautiful dress" /><category term="Early from work" /><category term="Loving Wife" /><category term="tax" /><category term="pool" /><category term="Deft definitions" /><category term="Shoes that fit" /><category term="blind" /><category term="Using the right restroom" /><category term="teacher" /><category term="Sermonising" /><category term="little boy" /><category term="Fifteen minutes late" /><category term="performance" /><category term="farmer" /><category term="Marriage proposal from Lahore" /><category term="The Cheese Burger" /><category term="Great New Wine" /><category term="photograph" /><category term="politicians" /><category term="Top Ten Dirty Quotes" /><category term="doctor" /><category term="horse" /><category term="jungle" /><category term="waitress" /><category term="drinker" /><category term="divorce" /><category term="Mailman's last day on the job" /><category term="Job Application" /><category term="college" /><category term="The coyote story" /><category term="Leprechaun" /><category term="An accident at the Guinness Brewery" /><category term="traffic cop" /><category term="swim" /><category term="Voted Best Joke in Ireland 2009" /><category term="Guided Tour of Heaven" /><category term="market" /><category term="husband" /><category term="At the Pharmacy" /><category term="floods" /><category term="What a coincidence" /><category term="cat" /><category term="The Legend of Little Angel and the Christmas Tree" /><category term="On the Campaign Trail" /><category term="aeroplane" /><category term="I am actually 47" /><category term="nurse" /><category term="Bare Facts" /><category term="Taking to Europe" /><category term="Chinese Torture" /><category term="Buying a Tractor" /><category term="bush" /><category term="Yorkshire Terrier" /><category term="confessional" /><category term="Hand of poker" /><category term="marriage" /><category term="Post Operative Nostalgia" /><category term="Gynaecologist's Assistant" /><category term="4 Irish Snippets" /><category term="vodka" /><category term="boy" /><category term="Disuse Atropy" /><category term="Gandhi" /><category term="sex" /><category term="army" /><category term="It Hurts" /><category term="bank" /><category term="trees" /><category term="In Deep Freeze" /><category term="ballerina" /><category term="On Heaven's Door" /><category term="Delhi Electricity Board" /><category term="age" /><category term="Confessions of an 82 year old" /><category term="User Fee" /><category term="alligator" /><category term="happiness" /><category term="aboriginal" /><category term="The Painters" /><category term="High-tech milking machine" /><category term="women" /><category term="I won the Fight" /><category term="office" /><category term="firemen" /><category term="The Art of Hunting" /><category term="Fannie Green" /><category term="Feeding New Borns" /><category term="drunk" /><category term="dog" /><category term="pianist" /><category term="student" /><category term="Some Quickies" /><category term="Stiff One" /><category term="Young school teacher" /><category term="young lady" /><category term="nun" /><category term="Making a living" /><category term="The Law of Distribution" /><category term="Death in the Family" /><category term="cowboy" /><category term="poetry" /><category term="god" /><category term="gambling" /><category term="Three Hillbillies" /><category term="genie" /><category term="Last Requests" /><category term="Smart Executive" /><category term="Twenty Dollar Bill" /><category term="little girl" /><title>Latest, New, Adult Jokes and Mature Humor</title><subtitle type="html">Jokes and sexy humor for those who are adult and mature enough to enjoy it.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://humour2008.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://humour2008.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>296</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/dFnlh" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/dfnlh" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUEQXgzeyp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-1947284260670675206</id><published>2012-01-08T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:43:20.683-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:43:20.683-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="girls" /><title>A miserable Girl</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QcLGcLjEyz90w71dkLVihwQJ4o0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QcLGcLjEyz90w71dkLVihwQJ4o0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QcLGcLjEyz90w71dkLVihwQJ4o0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QcLGcLjEyz90w71dkLVihwQJ4o0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;There was a girl with no arms and no legs at the beach crying. 
 A man walked up and asked her what was wrong. 
 She said,"I've never been hugged before." 
So the man picked her up, gave her a hug, and says, "There... now you've been hugged."  
A second man walking on the beach sees the same girl with no arms and no legs crying and asks her what's wrong. 
 She says, "I've never been kissed before." 
 So the man picks her up, gives her a kiss, and says, "There.. now you've been kissed."  
A third man walking on the beach sees the girl crying and asks what's wrong.  
The girl says, "I've never been f***ed before."  
So the man picks her up, throws her in the water, and says, "There... now you're f***ed"

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-1947284260670675206?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/pOvLaosf5jE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1947284260670675206?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1947284260670675206?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/pOvLaosf5jE/miserable-girl.html" title="A miserable Girl" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/miserable-girl.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcDRXk7eCp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-1716923102784528484</id><published>2012-01-08T10:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:41:14.700-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:41:14.700-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Duck Shoot" /><title>Three Ducks</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ynUqann_iYy5ktoJa_iuuc27CsE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ynUqann_iYy5ktoJa_iuuc27CsE/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/ynUqann_iYy5ktoJa_iuuc27CsE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ynUqann_iYy5ktoJa_iuuc27CsE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Three ducks walk into a bar.  The bartender walks over and asks the first one "what's your name and how has your day been?"  The first duck says "My name Hewie and I had a great day, I've been in puddles all day!".
 
The bartender asks the second duck "So, what's your name and did you have a good day too?"  The second duck says, "My name is Lewie and also had an awesome day because I've been in puddles."
 
The bartender looks at the third duck and says "Let me guess your name is Dewie . . .".  The third duck cuts him off and says "My name is Puddles and don't ask how my day has been."

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-1716923102784528484?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/Q_BW9o0J9lg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1716923102784528484?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1716923102784528484?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/Q_BW9o0J9lg/three-ducks.html" title="Three Ducks" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/three-ducks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAAQnY_fyp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-7292978582699455183</id><published>2012-01-08T10:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:35:43.847-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:35:43.847-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="condom" /><title>Olympic Special Colored condoms</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wJzyTqx-sDlJbYZwHq3sWvT9Hng/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wJzyTqx-sDlJbYZwHq3sWvT9Hng/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/wJzyTqx-sDlJbYZwHq3sWvT9Hng/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wJzyTqx-sDlJbYZwHq3sWvT9Hng/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A husband comes home and says:
 
"Hey honey, guess what I got today in honor of the Olympics? 
Olympic Special Colored condoms in Gold, Silver and Bronze!, 
What d ya say I go for the Gold?"  

The wife replies:
 
"Actually if you could go for Silver and come second for a change."

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-7292978582699455183?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/DLMAYC-IqMg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/7292978582699455183?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/7292978582699455183?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/DLMAYC-IqMg/olympic-special-colored-condoms.html" title="Olympic Special Colored condoms" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/olympic-special-colored-condoms.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUCSXgycSp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-6448732603102017064</id><published>2012-01-08T10:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:27:48.699-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:27:48.699-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gandhi" /><title>Gandhi</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hH1KhZkg1QTlAHtmlm0aTOZ-zUM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hH1KhZkg1QTlAHtmlm0aTOZ-zUM/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/hH1KhZkg1QTlAHtmlm0aTOZ-zUM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hH1KhZkg1QTlAHtmlm0aTOZ-zUM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Gandhi was a spiritual man. 
 He also went on many hunger strikes, which left him weak and gave him bad breath.
  He usually walked without shoes, leaving his feet quite rough.

Or, to put it another way, he was a super-calloused fragile mystic vexed by halitosis.

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-6448732603102017064?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/UMPeA5ktPT8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6448732603102017064?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6448732603102017064?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/UMPeA5ktPT8/gandhi.html" title="Gandhi" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/gandhi.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAEQ384cSp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-163443225710498647</id><published>2012-01-08T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:18:22.139-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:18:22.139-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mitt Romney" /><title>No holds Barred Take at Mitt Romney</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gM_k4btXmIrZjvPr-phUHA6EU3Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gM_k4btXmIrZjvPr-phUHA6EU3Q/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/gM_k4btXmIrZjvPr-phUHA6EU3Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gM_k4btXmIrZjvPr-phUHA6EU3Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"As the Republicans continue checking underneath every available flag pin and Bible for viable candidates, presumed de facto frontrunner candidate Mitt Romney has gotta be thinking, ‘What the fudge? This is starting to hurt where my feelings should be.'" –Jon Stewart

 "According to a poll, over 50 percent of viewers thought Mitt Romney won this week's presidential debate. They thought Mitt Romney won, yeah. Romney credits the win to his grasp of the issues and the good people at Mattel, who built him." —Conan O'Brien
 
"Mitt Romney was sitting down with some unemployed workers the other day. Mitt is worth a quarter of a billion dollars, and he said, 'Hey, I'm unemployed too.' That is the famous Mormon sense of humor. A little tip Mitt, your people are only funny when the 'South Park' guys write your jokes. " —Bill Maher
 
"Mitt Romney has announced he's running for president in 2012. At the same time, he's announced he'll try again in 2016." —Stephen Colbert
 
"Experts are predicting that in the first Republican debate, Mitt Romney will face his fiercest ideological opponent: himself from four years ago." —Conan O'Brien
 
"Mitt Romney was on the 'Today Show' and admitted he likes to read the 'Twilight' books and watch 'American Idol.' If elected, he would be the 1st Mormon and the 1st 13-year-old girl to be President." —Jimmy Kimmel
 
"I think Mitt Romney and Sarah Palin would be the perfect ticket. She can't answer basic questions, and he has two answers for every question." —Jay Leno
 
"Well, the presidential race is getting interesting. In an effort to clear up his reputation as a flip-flopper, Mitt Romney will give a speech on health care. And then, right afterward, he'll give a five-minute rebuttal." —Jay Leno
 
"No! Not Captain Buzzkill! Not the guy who looks like everyone who ever fired your dad! He's gonna suck all the fun right out of this crazy thing. Just look at the online video announcing his run. It looks like it could double as an ad for erectile dysfunction pills. 'Mitt Romney: for when the moment's right.'" —Jon Stewart on Mitt Romney running for president
 
"Mitt Romney looks like a guy modeling briefs on a package of underwear ... He looks like a guy who goes to the restroom when the check comes ... He looks like a guy who would run a seminar on condo flipping ... He looks like he is the closer at a Cadillac dealership.... He looks like that guy on the golf course in the Levitra commercial." —David Letterman

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-163443225710498647?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/yLYYP8a3rnQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/163443225710498647?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/163443225710498647?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/yLYYP8a3rnQ/no-holds-barred-take-at-mitt-romney.html" title="No holds Barred Take at Mitt Romney" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/no-holds-barred-take-at-mitt-romney.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEICQ308eCp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-8142782118555956124</id><published>2012-01-08T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:16:02.370-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:16:02.370-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mitt Romney" /><title>Presidential Candidate hopeful:Mitt Romney</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bS1D8DLj9A3tqbhiM6zIpCBlmdM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bS1D8DLj9A3tqbhiM6zIpCBlmdM/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/bS1D8DLj9A3tqbhiM6zIpCBlmdM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bS1D8DLj9A3tqbhiM6zIpCBlmdM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;While campaigning in Iowa, Mitt Romney tried his very best to appear accessible and relaxed by referencing something normal Americans know about while also trying to take Barack Obama down a notch:
 

I've been looking at some video clips on YouTube, of President Obama, then candidate Obama, going through Iowa making promises. The gap between his promises and his performance is the largest I've seen since, well, the Kardashian wedding and the promise of "til death do us part."


&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-8142782118555956124?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/CDD2eerPb4U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8142782118555956124?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8142782118555956124?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/CDD2eerPb4U/presidential-candidate-hopefulmitt.html" title="Presidential Candidate hopeful:Mitt Romney" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/presidential-candidate-hopefulmitt.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04ARHw4fCp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-6150607310737490136</id><published>2012-01-08T10:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:05:45.234-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:05:45.234-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Michele Bachmann" /><title>More Jokes on Michele Bachmann</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1ZHqA8ihfzIF7C0DDE5DsYRFn6c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1ZHqA8ihfzIF7C0DDE5DsYRFn6c/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/1ZHqA8ihfzIF7C0DDE5DsYRFn6c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1ZHqA8ihfzIF7C0DDE5DsYRFn6c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"Michele Bachmann won the Iowa Straw Poll. She said she hasn't been this excited since she won last year's 'Who's Crazier Than Sarah Palin' contest.'" –Conan O'Brien

 "Michele Bachmann was asked if she was a submissive wife. She said no, but her husband is." –Jay Leno

 "New reports say that President Obama’s re-election team is going to try to portray Mitt Romney as 'weird.' They’re also going to try to portray Michele Bachmann as 'Michele Bachmann.'" –Conan O'Brien

 "An audio recording from five years ago has been released of Michele Bachmann predicting the end of the world. Her exact words were, 'I'm going to run for president in 2012.'" –Conan O'Brien

 "Michele Bachmann suffers from crippling migraine headaches. That's what happens when you don't get a little pornography every now and then." –David Letterman

 "Lenscrafters is upset with Tea Partier Michele Bachmann because she called Planned Parenthood 'the Lenscrafters of abortion.' Lenscrafters released a statement today calling her 'the Costco of crazy.'" —Conan O'Brien

 "Michele Bachmann is kind of like Sarah Palin but without the charisma — or marksmanship. You know, maybe we should stop telling kids that anyone can grow up to be president of the United States." –Jimmy Kimmel

 "Michele Bachmann signed pledge in Iowa recently about protecting marriage, but it also said stuff about black children having it better when they were raised during slavery. Now her campaign is saying that while, yes, she did sign the pledge, she didn't read it first. And had she read it, she never would have signed it in the first place. Well, thank God presidents don't have to sign anything so important they have to read it first." –Jay Leno

 "Michele Bachmann says she will launch her presidential campaign in either Massachusetts or New Hampshire as soon as she figures out which is which. There could be some eligibility problems for her. She has her birth certificate, but nobody can produce her high school diploma." —Jay Leno
 
"Michele Bachmann threw her hat into the ring. We think she's going to be running for president. For those who find Sarah Palin too intellectual. Michelle Bachman for President. As a comedian, all I can say is, where can I donate to this cause?" —Bill Maher
 
"The unemployment rate is now at 9.2%, which is scary because experts say 9.5 is the point at which people are desperate enough to consider Michele Bachmann." –Bill Maher

 "Tea Party candidate Michele Bachmann said the Revolutionary War started in New Hampshire when it really started in Massachusetts. Interesting that a woman who believes so strongly in states rights can't get her states right." –Jay Leno
 
"Rep. Michele Bachmann created controversy when she said in a speech that the Founding Fathers worked tirelessly until slavery was no more. Apparently she spent her high school history class looking off to the right of the blackboard." –Seth Meyers
 
"Tea Party rebutter Michele Bachmann is under fire for saying the Founding Fathers eliminated slavery. Sarah Palin is very upset. Another female Republican trying to steal the dumbass vote." –Jay Leno
 
"There were two Republican responses to the State of the Union. So if you watched the whole night, it was kind of evolution in reverse. You have Obama, then Paul Ryan, and then Michele Bachmann. Then Animal Planet had a squirrel monkey give his take." –Bill Maher
 
"You saw the big controversy with Michele Bachmann. She did not look directly into the camera, which made it harder for the teabaggers to masturbate." –Bill Maher "She didn't look into the camera. She said Ameican was created by a miracle, and secret armies of IRS agents are trying to take awa your light bubls. And then Sarah Palin tweeted, 'Game on, bitch." –Bill Maher
 
"Rep. Michele Bachmann gave a rebuttal for the Tea Party, and she is a natural on camera. [She looked to the side the whole time.] Either the cue cards were in the wrong place or she was keeping an eye out for illegal immigrants the whole time." –Jimmy Kimmel &lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-6150607310737490136?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/WNYC6C6QF3E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6150607310737490136?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6150607310737490136?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/WNYC6C6QF3E/more-jokes-on-michele-bachmann.html" title="More Jokes on Michele Bachmann" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/more-jokes-on-michele-bachmann.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ABSHk_cSp7ImA9WhRVEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-2671523089354239333</id><published>2012-01-08T10:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T10:02:39.749-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T10:02:39.749-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Michele Bachmann" /><title>Gaffes by Presential Candidate hopeful:Michele Bachmann</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EUsI3dk4di5yfHkVJJqrMxo-60Y/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EUsI3dk4di5yfHkVJJqrMxo-60Y/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/EUsI3dk4di5yfHkVJJqrMxo-60Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EUsI3dk4di5yfHkVJJqrMxo-60Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"Well what I want them to know is just like, John Wayne was from Waterloo, Iowa. That's the kind of spirit that I have, too" —Michele Bachmann, getting her John Waynes mixed up during an interview after launching her presidential campaign in Waterloo, Iowa, where she grew up. The beloved movie star John Wayne was born in Winterset, Iowa, three hours away. The John Wayne that Waterloo was home to is John Wayne Gacy, a notorious serial killer.
&lt;BR&gt;
"Before we get started, let's all say 'Happy Birthday' to Elvis Presley today." —Michele Bachmann, while campaigning for president in South Carolina on what was actually the anniversary of Elvis's death
&lt;BR&gt;
 "But we also know that the very founders that wrote those documents worked tirelessly until slavery was no more in the United States. ... I think it is high time that we recognize the contribution of our forbearers who worked tirelessly — men like John Quincy Adams, who would not rest until slavery was extinguished in the country." —Michele Bachmann, botching American history while speaking at an Iowan's for Tax Relief event in January 2011. The Founding Fathers did not work to end slavery, and John Quincy Adams was not one of the Founding Fathers.
&lt;BR&gt;
&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-2671523089354239333?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/Z2cAYz6mt64" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/2671523089354239333?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/2671523089354239333?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/Z2cAYz6mt64/gaffes-by-presential-candidate.html" title="Gaffes by Presential Candidate hopeful:Michele Bachmann" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2012/01/gaffes-by-presential-candidate.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkADQH8_eyp7ImA9WhdUGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-1540643090985515178</id><published>2011-10-06T01:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T01:46:11.143-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-06T01:46:11.143-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="husband" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="drunk" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wife" /><title>Drinking too much</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3I3y6QwHBMfFKNhXYyGYCi9tEUE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3I3y6QwHBMfFKNhXYyGYCi9tEUE/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/3I3y6QwHBMfFKNhXYyGYCi9tEUE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3I3y6QwHBMfFKNhXYyGYCi9tEUE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Jack wakes up with a huge hangover after attending his company's Christmas Party. Jack is not normally a drinker, but the drinks didn't taste like alcohol at all. He didn't even remember how he got home from the party. As bad as he was feeling, he wondered if he did something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack had to force himself to open his eyes and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a single red rose! Jack sits up and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed. He looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotlessly clean. So is the rest of the house. He takes the aspirins, cringes when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the bathroom mirror. Then he notices a note hanging on the corner of the mirror written in red with little hearts on it and a kiss mark from his wife in Lipstick:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to get groceries to make you your favorite dinner tonight. I love you, darling! Love, Jillian"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stumbles to the kitchen and sure enough, there is hot breakfast, steaming hot coffee and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating. Jack asks, "Son... What happened last night?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you came home after 3 A.M., drunk and out of your mind. You fell over the coffee table and broke it, and then you puked in the hallway, and got that black eye when you ran into the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confused, he asked his son, "So, why is everything in such perfect order and so clean? I have a rose, and breakfast is on the table waiting for me??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His son replies, "Oh THAT! Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your pants off, you screamed, "Leave me alone, I'm married!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken Coffee Table: $239.99. Hot Breakfast: $4.20. Two Aspirins: $.38. Saying the right thing, at the right time. . . PRICELESS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-1540643090985515178?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/uKvW2wF3AdU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1540643090985515178?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1540643090985515178?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/uKvW2wF3AdU/drinking-too-much.html" title="Drinking too much" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/10/drinking-too-much.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EFQXc8cSp7ImA9WhdWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-6786700606796737398</id><published>2011-09-08T04:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T04:00:10.979-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T04:00:10.979-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="photograph" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="drinker" /><title>Photograph</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1QU3arlarwu9EKF8L9wAPxFjymA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1QU3arlarwu9EKF8L9wAPxFjymA/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/1QU3arlarwu9EKF8L9wAPxFjymA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1QU3arlarwu9EKF8L9wAPxFjymA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A businessman enters a tavern, sits down at the bar, and orders a double martini on the rocks. After he finishes the drink, he peeks inside his shirt pocket, then orders the bartender to prepare another double martini. After he finishes that it, he again peeks inside his shirt pocket and orders the bartender to bring another double martini. The bartender says, "Look, buddy, I'll bring ya' martinis all night long - but you gotta tell me why you look inside your shirt pocket before you order a refill." The customer replies, "I'm peeking at a photo of my wife. When she starts to look good, I know it's time to go home."

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-6786700606796737398?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/7xVTXGZ3evE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6786700606796737398?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6786700606796737398?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/7xVTXGZ3evE/photograph.html" title="Photograph" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/09/photograph.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YMRXs6cSp7ImA9WhdWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-5858091952556524179</id><published>2011-09-08T03:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T03:53:04.519-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T03:53:04.519-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="drunk" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Death in the Family" /><title>Death in the Family</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/a5yrJ3115TJeXcacZDArhjf-nZI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/a5yrJ3115TJeXcacZDArhjf-nZI/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/a5yrJ3115TJeXcacZDArhjf-nZI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/a5yrJ3115TJeXcacZDArhjf-nZI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A man in a bar sees a friend at a table, drinking by himself. 

Approaching the friend he comments, "You look terrible. What's the problem?" 

"My mother died in August," he said, "and left me $25,000." 

"Gee, that's tough," he replied. 

"Then in September," the friend continued, "My father died, leaving me $90,000." 

"Wow. Two parents gone in two months. No wonder you're depressed." 

"And last month my aunt died, and left me $15,000." 

"Three close family members lost in three months? How sad." 

"Then this month," continued, the friend, "absolutely nothing!" 

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-5858091952556524179?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/AWZVoqTnB3c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5858091952556524179?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5858091952556524179?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/AWZVoqTnB3c/death-in-family.html" title="Death in the Family" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/09/death-in-family.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4DQ3s9eCp7ImA9WhdWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-4250955453770536450</id><published>2011-09-08T03:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T03:49:32.560-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T03:49:32.560-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Yorkshire Terrier" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="drunk" /><title>Yorkshire Terrier</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uR1T1VB-cAQK0HUcOUATPCb1A1o/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uR1T1VB-cAQK0HUcOUATPCb1A1o/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/uR1T1VB-cAQK0HUcOUATPCb1A1o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uR1T1VB-cAQK0HUcOUATPCb1A1o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;There's these two guys standing by a huge hole in the ground having a beer. It's too dark to tell how deep it is, so one guy throws a rock in the hole, and waits for the sound of it hitting the bottom. Nothing. So, the second guy throws a full can of beer down the hole, and waits for the sound of it hitting. Still nothing. So the first guy grabs a railroad tie, and pushes it down the hole. Nothing happens still. About 10 seconds later, this tiny Yorkshire Terrier comes running faster than a car, and jumps into the hole. Well, the guys are stunned. About a minute later, this old scottish guy comes over, and in a thick accent, he asks "have ya seen ma weeeeeee yorkshire terrier?" To which one of the guys replies "ya, he just ran like hades past us and jumped down the hole over there." The scotsman replies "nah, that wasn't him, he's 15 years old and can barely walk, and anyway, I tied him to a big friggin railroad tie" 


&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-4250955453770536450?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/yhHWgJ3z_PY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/4250955453770536450?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/4250955453770536450?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/yhHWgJ3z_PY/yorkshire-terrier.html" title="Yorkshire Terrier" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/09/yorkshire-terrier.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANQ30yeyp7ImA9WhdWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-8383301155970183620</id><published>2011-09-08T03:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T03:46:32.393-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T03:46:32.393-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="drunk" /><title>I am From Dublin</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3eiiAPAc6XVRyO-_3keGLsuqKRk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3eiiAPAc6XVRyO-_3keGLsuqKRk/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/3eiiAPAc6XVRyO-_3keGLsuqKRk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3eiiAPAc6XVRyO-_3keGLsuqKRk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A man stumbles up to the only other patron in a bar and asks if he could buy him a drink. "Why of course," comes the reply.

The first man then asks: "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Ireland," replies the second man.

The first man responds: "You don't say, I'm from Ireland too! Let's have another round to Ireland."

"Of course," replies the second man.

I'm curious, the first man then asks: "Where in Ireland are you from?"

"Dublin," comes the reply.

"I can't believe it," says the first man. "I'm from Dublin too! Let's have another drink to Dublin."

"Of course," replies the second man.

Curiosity again strikes and the first man asks: "What school did you go to?"

"Saint Mary's," replies the second man, "I graduated in '62."

"This is unbelievable!", the first man says. "I went to Saint Mary's and I graduated in '62, too!"

About that time in comes one of the regulars and sits down at the bar. "What's been going on?" he asks the bartender.

"Nothing much," replies the bartender. "The O'Kinly twins are drunk again." 

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-8383301155970183620?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/FzeM-L5qaTQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8383301155970183620?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8383301155970183620?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/FzeM-L5qaTQ/i-am-from-dublin.html" title="I am From Dublin" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-am-from-dublin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIMQXo9fip7ImA9WhdWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-6454670086806988147</id><published>2011-09-08T03:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T03:43:00.466-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T03:43:00.466-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Presidential Address" /><title>Presidential Address</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VYYqPImwvgr5d6OHHXiB4lcIPJo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VYYqPImwvgr5d6OHHXiB4lcIPJo/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/VYYqPImwvgr5d6OHHXiB4lcIPJo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VYYqPImwvgr5d6OHHXiB4lcIPJo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;President Bush addressed a gathering of the 
American Indian Nation in New York State. He 
spoke for an hour on his future plans for 
increasing the Native American's standard of 
living. He affirmed that as President he had 
supported every Indian issue that came before 
him. The President was vague on details of his 
plan, although he was enthusiastic about future 
ideas for helping his "red sisters and brothers." 

At the conclusion of his speech, the chief 
presented the President with a plaque inscribed 
with his new Indian name - "Walking Eagle." 
President Bush then proudly departed in his 
motorcade, waving to the crowds. The press 
closed in on the chief: 

News reporter: "Chief, could you tell us why you 
selected that Indian name for President Bush?" 

Chief: "Walking Eagle is a name given to a bird 
so full of crap it cannot fly." 

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-6454670086806988147?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/DMx8AcZStdw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6454670086806988147?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6454670086806988147?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/DMx8AcZStdw/presidential-address.html" title="Presidential Address" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/09/presidential-address.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMDQn05fCp7ImA9WhdWFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-5305528153945045256</id><published>2011-09-08T03:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T03:41:13.324-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T03:41:13.324-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Advertisements" /><title>Advertising</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OnRAtwKU2VeT90hhQCemdg2OZ44/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OnRAtwKU2VeT90hhQCemdg2OZ44/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OnRAtwKU2VeT90hhQCemdg2OZ44/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OnRAtwKU2VeT90hhQCemdg2OZ44/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;After six years of trying to start a family, a couple was finally 
blessed with the birth of its first child. The wife told her husband 
to put an announcement in the local paper. When he returned from the 
newspaper office, she asked him what details he had included. "Just 
the name, address and date," he said. "How much did it cost?" "About 
six hundred and eighty dollars," he replied. "Why so much?" the 
stunned woman exclaimed. "Well, after I wrote out the announcement, 
the clerk asked me how many insertions, and I said four times a week 
for six years."

&lt;A HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-5305528153945045256?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/i5Mw-GjURZ4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5305528153945045256?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5305528153945045256?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/i5Mw-GjURZ4/advertising.html" title="Advertising" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/09/advertising.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4GQns7cSp7ImA9WhdXFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-4393431947992251486</id><published>2011-08-29T01:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T01:35:23.509-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-29T01:35:23.509-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Guided Tour of Heaven" /><title>Guided Tour of Heaven</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOycmIc6vdIJgsuAcMbyzjsrQC0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOycmIc6vdIJgsuAcMbyzjsrQC0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOycmIc6vdIJgsuAcMbyzjsrQC0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOycmIc6vdIJgsuAcMbyzjsrQC0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This guy dies and goes to hell. Once he gets to the gates there is a Matr'D there waiting to greet him. "Welcome to Hell" he said in a happy voice. The guy seemed rather puzzled but went on with his eternity and walked in. "How was your trip? Not too hard on ya I hope." said the Matr'D. "It was OK." said the guy still a little puzzled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Well OK here's the grand tour." the Matr'D continued, "Over here we have an all night casino where you always win. Over there is the hotel where you will be spending your eternity, furnished with all the luxuries you can possibly dream of. And in the back there is an all night restaurant filled with all the most beautiful women you can imagine and are ready to do your every bidding and of course the food is great also."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Now WAIT a minute!" said the guy completely confused. "Yes?" said the Matr'D. "This is hell right? This is MY eternity, full of everything I ever wanted? I thought Hell was supposed to suck ass or something." "Well...heaven has greater and better things than us down here, but they are basically the same thing." said the Matr'D. Still puzzled the guy continues to walk down the road. Then he comes across this pit of fire and screaming and such other unpleasant things. At this the guy got a little bit worried and asked, "WHAT is THAT??" "Oh that." said the Matr'D nonchalantly, "That is the quote 'fire and brimstone' room. Eh it's for those Baptists, shit, that's what they wanted..."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This guy dies and goes to hell. Once he gets to the gates there is a Matr'D there waiting to greet him. "Welcome to Hell" he said in a happy voice. The guy seemed rather puzzled but went on with his eternity and walked in. "How was your trip? Not too hard on ya I hope." said the Matr'D. "It was OK." said the guy still a little puzzled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Well OK here's the grand tour." the Matr'D continued, "Over here we have an all night casino where you always win. Over there is the hotel where you will be spending your eternity, furnished with all the luxuries you can possibly dream of. And in the back there is an all night restaurant filled with all the most beautiful women you can imagine and are ready to do your every bidding and of course the food is great also."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Now WAIT a minute!" said the guy completely confused. "Yes?" said the Matr'D. "This is hell right? This is MY eternity, full of everything I ever wanted? I thought Hell was supposed to suck ass or something." "Well...heaven has greater and better things than us down here, but they are basically the same thing." said the Matr'D. Still puzzled the guy continues to walk down the road. Then he comes across this pit of fire and screaming and such other unpleasant things. At this the guy got a little bit worried and asked, "WHAT is THAT??" "Oh that." said the Matr'D nonchalantly, "That is the quote 'fire and brimstone' room. Eh it's for those Baptists, shit, that's what they wanted..."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-4393431947992251486?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/HBgcJk1nXW4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/4393431947992251486?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/4393431947992251486?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/HBgcJk1nXW4/guided-tour-of-heaven.html" title="Guided Tour of Heaven" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/08/guided-tour-of-heaven.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEEQH89fip7ImA9WhdXFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-8978417547105425464</id><published>2011-08-29T01:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T01:30:01.166-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-29T01:30:01.166-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="god" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The First Word" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="On Heaven's Door" /><title>The First Word</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AgSV2GA80poVeFG_Gegi2r5zGOA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AgSV2GA80poVeFG_Gegi2r5zGOA/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/AgSV2GA80poVeFG_Gegi2r5zGOA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AgSV2GA80poVeFG_Gegi2r5zGOA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;One day, heaven is beginning to fill up (of course due to the population explosion), so St. Peter decides to ask each person a question about the bible before they can enter. Three men stand at the pearly gates, waiting to get into heaven. "How many wise men were there?" St. Peter asks the first man. "Three." He answers, and the trumpets sound, the gates open, and the first man enters.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 "How long did the flood last?" St. Peter asks the second man. "Forty days and forty nights." He answers, and the trumpets sound, the gates open and the second man enters. Seeing how easily the first two answered his trivia, St. Peter thinks of a much more difficult question for the second man. Finally, he asks, "What was the first thing Eve said to Adam in the Garden?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 The man thinks and thinks, but can't come up with an answer. "Boy, that's a hard one," he finally says. And the trumpets blow, the gates open, and the last man enters heaven.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-8978417547105425464?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/HxLBdFmzwa8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8978417547105425464?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8978417547105425464?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/HxLBdFmzwa8/first-word.html" title="The First Word" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-word.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQFR307eyp7ImA9WhdXFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-6153529911352065529</id><published>2011-08-29T01:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T01:25:16.303-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-29T01:25:16.303-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grandma" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stiff One" /><title>Stiff One</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fBjUWPE3AOsCPk9jYpLuO87Yz_I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fBjUWPE3AOsCPk9jYpLuO87Yz_I/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/fBjUWPE3AOsCPk9jYpLuO87Yz_I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fBjUWPE3AOsCPk9jYpLuO87Yz_I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A boy was walking down the street when he noticed his grandpa sitting on the porch, in the rocking chair, with nothing on from the waist down. "Grandpa what are you doing?" he exclaimed. The old man looked off in the distance and did not answer him. "Grandpa, what are you doing sitting out here with nothing on below the waist?" he asked again. The old man slowly looked at him and said, "Well, last week I sat out here with no shirt on, and I got a stiff neck. This is your Grandma's idea."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-6153529911352065529?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/duUKm2ClfG0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6153529911352065529?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6153529911352065529?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/duUKm2ClfG0/stiff-one.html" title="Stiff One" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/08/stiff-one.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUERHk6eCp7ImA9WhdXFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-6812481820413350911</id><published>2011-08-29T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T01:23:25.710-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-29T01:23:25.710-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rooster" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="farmer" /><title>Rooster</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gCAhcJk1FcoK9FJ0Qb3SCFUUhLk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gCAhcJk1FcoK9FJ0Qb3SCFUUhLk/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/gCAhcJk1FcoK9FJ0Qb3SCFUUhLk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gCAhcJk1FcoK9FJ0Qb3SCFUUhLk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Farmer Brown goes out one bay and buys a brand new stud rooster for his chicken. &lt;br /&gt;
The cocky young rooster walks over to the old rooster and says: "OK, old fellow, time to retire."&lt;br /&gt;
 The old rooster says: "You can't handle all these chickens, look what it did to me!" &lt;br /&gt;
The young rooster replies: "Now don't give me a hassle about this old man. It's time for the old to step aside and the young take over, so take a hike!" &lt;br /&gt;
The old rooster says: "Aw, c'mon, just let me have those two old hens over there in the corner. I won't bother you." &lt;br /&gt;
The young rooster snarls: "Scram! Beat it! You're washed up! I'm taking over!" &lt;br /&gt;
The old rooster thinks for a minute and then says to the young rooster: "I'll tell you what, young fellow, I'll have a race around the farm house with you.&lt;br /&gt;
Whoever wins the race gets full domain over the chicken coop." &lt;br /&gt;
The young rooster smiles: "You know I'm going to beat you, old man. So just to be fair, I'm even going to give you a head start." &lt;br /&gt;
The two roosters line up in back of the farm house; a hen clucks "Go!" and the old rooster takes off running.&lt;br /&gt;
 About 5 seconds later the young rooster takes off after him. They round the front of the farm house and the young rooster is inches behind the old rooster and gaining fast. &lt;br /&gt;
Farmer Brown, sitting on the porch, hearing the commotion looks up and sees what's going on. Quickly, he grabs his shotgun and BOOM! &lt;br /&gt;
The young rooster is blown to smithereens! &lt;br /&gt;
Farmer Brown sadly shakes his head in disgust: "Damn! That makes the third gay rooster I bought this week."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-6812481820413350911?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/AP0ZEgK22vA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6812481820413350911?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6812481820413350911?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/AP0ZEgK22vA/rooster.html" title="Rooster" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/08/rooster.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04ERXg_cCp7ImA9WhZbFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-8292297289813648543</id><published>2011-06-18T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T08:45:04.648-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-18T08:45:04.648-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grandma" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="traffic cop" /><title>Oh! these Traffic Cops</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3mGoWlupTSOh1MFQtZICUjQOkM0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3mGoWlupTSOh1MFQtZICUjQOkM0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3mGoWlupTSOh1MFQtZICUjQOkM0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3mGoWlupTSOh1MFQtZICUjQOkM0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;An elderly couple were driving across the country.&lt;br /&gt;
The woman was driving when she got pulled over by the highway patrol.&lt;br /&gt;
The officer said, "Ma'am did you know you were speeding?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman, hard of hearing, turns to her husband and asks, "What did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;
The old man yells, "He says you were speeding!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The patrolman says, "May I see your license?"&lt;br /&gt;
The woman turns to her husband and asks again, "What did he say?" &lt;br /&gt;
The old man yells, "He wants to see your license!" &lt;br /&gt;
The woman gave the officer her license. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The patrolman says, "I see you are from Arkansas. I spent some time there once and went on a blind date with the ugliest woman I've ever seen." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman turned to her husband and asked, "What did he say?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the old man yells, "He said he knows you!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-8292297289813648543?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/hy1zheGWD18" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8292297289813648543?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/8292297289813648543?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/hy1zheGWD18/oh-these-traffic-cops.html" title="Oh! these Traffic Cops" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/06/oh-these-traffic-cops.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ADQHc-eip7ImA9WhZbFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-550987451558782755</id><published>2011-06-18T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T08:42:51.952-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-18T08:42:51.952-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cajones" /><title>Cajones</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C2VYBOn9GdeCTXl4hw686rlucw0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C2VYBOn9GdeCTXl4hw686rlucw0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C2VYBOn9GdeCTXl4hw686rlucw0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C2VYBOn9GdeCTXl4hw686rlucw0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;An American touring Spain stopped at a local restaurant following a day of sightseeing. While sipping his sangria, he noticed a sizzling, scrumptious looking platter being served at the next table. Not only did it look good, the smell was wonderful. He asked the waiter, "What is that you just served?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The waiter replied, " Ah senor, you have excellent taste! Those are Cajones,bulls testicles from the bull fight this morning. A delicacy!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The American, though momentarily daunted, said, "What the hell, I'm on vacation! Bring me an order!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The waiter replied, "I am so sorry senor. There is only one Cajones serving per day because there is only one bull fight each morning. If you come early tomorrow and place your order, we will be sure to save you this delicacy!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next morning, the American returned, placed his order, and then that evening he was served the one and only special delicacy of the day. After a few bites, and inspecting the contents of his platter, he called to the waiter and said, "These Cajones are delicious, but they are much, much smaller than the ones I saw you serve yesterday!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The waiter shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Si senor. Sometimes the bull wins." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-550987451558782755?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/aRJMeAR57fo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/550987451558782755?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/550987451558782755?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/aRJMeAR57fo/cajones.html" title="Cajones" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/06/cajones.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQFQH46eCp7ImA9WhZWFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-1146596607081800560</id><published>2011-05-14T19:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T19:25:11.010-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-14T19:25:11.010-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Duck Shoot" /><title>Duck Shoot</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MxE4QUw3V7b2O4GrnY20WjUsL6c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MxE4QUw3V7b2O4GrnY20WjUsL6c/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/MxE4QUw3V7b2O4GrnY20WjUsL6c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MxE4QUw3V7b2O4GrnY20WjUsL6c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A hillbilly went hunting one day in Oklahoma and bagged three ducks. He put them in the bed of his pickup truck and was about to drive home when he was confronted by an ornery game warden who didn't like hillbillies. The game warden ordered the hillbilly to show his hunting license, and the hillbilly pulled out a valid Oklahoma hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The game warden looked at the license, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed its butt, and said "This duck ain't from Oklahoma. This is a Kansas duck. You got a Kansas huntin' license, boy?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The hillbilly reached into his wallet and produced a Kansas hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed its butt, and said "This ain't no Kansas duck. This duck's from Arkansas. You got a Arkansas license?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The hillbilly reached into his wallet and produced an Arkansas hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck, sniffed its butt, and said This ain't no Arkansas duck. This here duck's from South Carolina. You got a South Carolina huntin' license?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Again the hillbilly reached into his wallet and brought out a South Carolina hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the hillbilly "Just where the hell are you from?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The hillbilly turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said "You tell me, expert."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-1146596607081800560?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/0SvjhoGFhys" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1146596607081800560?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/1146596607081800560?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/0SvjhoGFhys/duck-shoot.html" title="Duck Shoot" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/05/duck-shoot.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUFSX48cSp7ImA9WhZWFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-5966630102941381511</id><published>2011-05-14T19:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T19:23:38.079-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-14T19:23:38.079-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends for Men and Women" /><title>Friends for Men and Women</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1yxS_xArRFx16Dn8bMXFS9GPq5k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1yxS_xArRFx16Dn8bMXFS9GPq5k/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/1yxS_xArRFx16Dn8bMXFS9GPq5k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1yxS_xArRFx16Dn8bMXFS9GPq5k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Friendship between Women: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A woman didn't come home one night. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day she told her husband that she had slept over at a girlfriend's house. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The man called his wife's 10 best friends. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
None of them knew anything about it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Friendship between Men: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A man didn't come home one night. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day he told his wife that he had slept over at a buddy's house. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman called her husband's 10 best friends. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Eight of them confirmed that he had slept over, and two claimed that he was still there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-5966630102941381511?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/OUD0QNx88CE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5966630102941381511?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5966630102941381511?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/OUD0QNx88CE/friends-for-men-and-women.html" title="Friends for Men and Women" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/05/friends-for-men-and-women.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcNRnY6fCp7ImA9WhZWFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-6503017939643722699</id><published>2011-05-14T19:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T19:21:37.814-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-14T19:21:37.814-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Feeding New Borns" /><title>Feeding New Borns</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_YhoAsqw8wggp6Qc5jumwakjwhQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_YhoAsqw8wggp6Qc5jumwakjwhQ/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/_YhoAsqw8wggp6Qc5jumwakjwhQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_YhoAsqw8wggp6Qc5jumwakjwhQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A woman and a baby were in the doctor's examining room, waiting for the doctor to come in for the baby's first exam. The doctor arrived, and examined the baby, checked his &lt;br /&gt;
weight, and being a little concerned, asked if the baby was breast fed or bottle fed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Breast fed," she replied. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Well, strip down to your waist," the doctor ordered. She did. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He pinched her nipples, pressed, kneaded, and rubbed both breasts for a while, in a very professional and detailed examination. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Motioning to her to get dressed, the doctor said, "No wonder this baby is underweight. You don't have any milk."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know," she said, "I'm his Grandma, but I'm glad I came."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-6503017939643722699?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/3OAJXKemg0M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6503017939643722699?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/6503017939643722699?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/3OAJXKemg0M/feeding-new-borns.html" title="Feeding New Borns" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/05/feeding-new-borns.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcFQn88fip7ImA9WhZWFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8996678984713562538.post-5784032266744637205</id><published>2011-05-14T19:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T19:20:13.176-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-14T19:20:13.176-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Best Quotes Ever" /><title>The Best Quotes Ever</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Xt74a07TiZms3lG3PRWwrxO94HE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Xt74a07TiZms3lG3PRWwrxO94HE/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/Xt74a07TiZms3lG3PRWwrxO94HE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Xt74a07TiZms3lG3PRWwrxO94HE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake whole relationships." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Sharon Stone &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"My girlfriend always laughs during sex---no matter what she's reading." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Steve Jobs (Founder: Apple Computers) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I saw a woman wearing a sweatshirt with "Guess" on it. I said, "Thyroid problem?" &lt;br /&gt;
-- Arnold Schwarzenegger &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Hockey is a sport for white men. Basketball is a sport for black men. Golf is a sport for white men dressed like black pimps." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Tiger Woods &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"My mother never saw the irony in calling me a son-of-a-bitch." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Jack Nicholson &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is." &lt;br /&gt;
- Barbara Bush (Former US First Lady, and you didn't think Barbara had a sense of humor) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Ah, yes, divorce, from the Latin word meaning to rip out a man's genitals through his wallet." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Robin Williams &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Women complain about premenstrual syndrome, but I think of it as the only time of the month that I can be myself." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Roseanne &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Billy Crystal &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Robert DE Niro &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"There's a new medical crisis. Doctors are reporting that many men are having allergic reactions to latex condoms. They say they cause severe swelling. So what's the problem?" &lt;br /&gt;
-- Dustin Hoffman &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"There's very little advice in men's magazines, because men think, I know what I'm doing. Just show me somebody naked." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Jerry Seinfeld &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Instead of getting married again, I'm going to find a woman I don't like and just give her a house." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Rod Stewart &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time." &lt;br /&gt;
-- Robin Williams&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a HREF="http://dreamweavewalk.blogspot.com/"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2010&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;A HREF="HTTP://DREAMWEAVEWALK.BLOGSPOT.COM"&gt;Part of the Dream Weave Walk 1999-2007&lt;/A&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8996678984713562538-5784032266744637205?l=humour2008.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~4/om21HXZr4sM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5784032266744637205?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8996678984713562538/posts/default/5784032266744637205?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dFnlh/~3/om21HXZr4sM/best-quotes-ever.html" title="The Best Quotes Ever" /><author><name>Kainaat Creations</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://humour2008.blogspot.com/2011/05/best-quotes-ever.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

