<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702</id><updated>2011-12-14T22:10:12.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Daily Joke</title><subtitle type='html'>A joke a day to give you a little comic relief. I try to offer some humor for everyone and I will try not to offend anyone. However I sometimes can't resist poking fun at some groups, but I never mean it as an insult. Sort of that I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you thing we were all told as kids. So enjoy the jokes, puns and funny stories, laughter is good for you.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>119</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115561791866375749</id><published>2006-08-14T23:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T23:58:38.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mary Clancy goes up to Father O'Grady after his Sunday morning&lt;br /&gt;service, and she's in tears. He says, "So what's bothering you, Mary my dear?" She says, "Oh, Father, I've got terrible news. My husband passed away last night." The priest says, "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, Mary, did he have any last requests?" She says, "That he did, Father." The priest says, "What did he ask, Mary? "&lt;br /&gt;She says, "He said, 'Please Mary, put down that darn gun...'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115561791866375749?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115561791866375749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115561791866375749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115561791866375749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115561791866375749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/mary-clancy-goes-up-to-father-ogrady.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115561768125499501</id><published>2006-08-14T23:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T23:56:34.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A Texan dies and goes to hell. While down there the devil notices that the Texan is not suffering like the rest. He checks the gauges and sees that it's 100 degrees and about 80% humidity. So he goes over to the Texan and asks why he's so happy. The Texan says, "I really like it here. The temperature is just like Dallas in June." The devil isn't happy with the Texan's answer and decides to fix him, so he goes over and turns up the temperature to 120 degrees and the humidity to 90%. After turning everything up he goes looking for the Texan. He finds him standing around unbuttoning his shirt, just as happy as can be. The devil quizzes the Texan again as to why he's so happy. The Texan says, "This is even better. It's like Houston in July." The devil, now really upset, decides to make the Texan really understand that hell is no paradise. He walks over to the controls and turns the heat up to 140 degrees and the humidity to 100%. "Now let's see what the Texan is up to," he thinks. So he goes looking for the Texan. The devil finds the Texan taking his shirt off basking in the heat, even happier than before. The devil can't figure it out. He asks the Texan why he's happy now. The Texan replies, "This is great, it's just like Brownsville in August." The devil says: "That's it, I'll get this guy." He walks over and turns the temperature down to a freezing 25 degrees below zero. "Now let's see what the Texan has to say about this," the devil thinks to himself. He looks around and finds the Texan jumping up and down for joy. "What are you so happy about now," ask the devil. Still excited, the Texan replies, "The Rangers have finally won the world series."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115561768125499501?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115561768125499501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115561768125499501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115561768125499501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115561768125499501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/texan-dies-and-goes-to-hell.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115561715739465747</id><published>2006-08-14T23:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T23:45:57.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Q. What do you call an aerobics instructor who doesn't cause pain and&lt;br /&gt;agony?&lt;br /&gt;A. Unemployed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115561715739465747?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115561715739465747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115561715739465747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115561715739465747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115561715739465747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/q.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115537114742845818</id><published>2006-08-12T03:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T03:25:47.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>During the big DUI Dragnet, a Highway Patrolman waited outside a popular local bar, hoping for a bust. At closing time as everyone came out, he spotted his potential quarry. The man was so obviously inebriated that he could barely walk. He stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes, looking for his car. After trying his keys on five others, he finally found his own vehicle. He sat in the car a good ten minutes as the other patrons left. He turned his lights on, then off, wipers on then off. He started to pull forward into the grass, then stopped. Finally when he was the last car, he pulled out onto the road and started to drive away. The Patrolman, waiting for this, turned on his lights and pulled the man over. He administered the breathalizer test, and to his great surprise the man blew a 0.00. The Patrolman was dumbfounded. "This equipment must be broken," exclaimed the Patrolman. "I doubt it," said the man, "tonight I'm the Designated Decoy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115537114742845818?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115537114742845818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115537114742845818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115537114742845818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115537114742845818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/during-big-dui-dragnet-highway.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115518155265721619</id><published>2006-08-09T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T22:45:52.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A lawyer named Strange died, and his friend asked the tombstone maker to inscribe on his tombstone, "Here lies Strange, an honest man, and a lawyer." The inscriber insisted that such an inscription would be confusing, for passersby would tend to think that three men were buried under the stone. However he suggested an alternative: He would inscribe, "Here lies a man who was both honest and a lawyer." That way, whenever anyone walked by the tombstone and read it, they would be certain to remark: "That's Strange!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115518155265721619?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115518155265721619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115518155265721619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115518155265721619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115518155265721619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/lawyer-named-strange-died-and-his.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115510033386111975</id><published>2006-08-09T00:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T00:12:13.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A customer was continually bothering the waiter in a restaurant; first, he'd asked that the air conditioning be turned up because he was too hot, then he asked it be turned down because he was too cold, and so on for about half an hour. Surprisingly, the waiter was very patient, he walked back and forth and never once got angry. So finally, a second customer asked him why he didn't throw out the pest. "Oh I don't mind." said the waiter with a smile. "We don't even have an air conditioner."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115510033386111975?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115510033386111975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115510033386111975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115510033386111975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115510033386111975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/customer-was-continually-bothering.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115502296952749129</id><published>2006-08-08T02:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T02:42:49.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Max went into the doctor's office for his annual checkup, and the Doc asked if there was anything unusual he should know about. So Max told the Doc that his suit must have shrunk over the last year, because it didn't fit when he went to get ready for a wedding recently. The Doc said, "Suits don't shrink just sitting in a closet. You probably put on a few pounds." "That's just it, Doc, I know I haven't gained a single pound since the last time I wore it." "Well, then," said Doc, "You must have a case of Furniture Disease." "What in the world is Furniture Disease?" asked Max. "That's when your chest starts sliding down into your drawers."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115502296952749129?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115502296952749129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115502296952749129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115502296952749129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115502296952749129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/max-went-into-doctors-office-for-his.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115502284300580476</id><published>2006-08-08T02:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T02:40:43.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dentist joke&lt;br /&gt;A man and his wife entered a dentist's office. The wife said, "I want a tooth pulled. I don't want gas or Novocain because I'm in a terrible hurry. Just pull the tooth as quickly as possible. "You're a brave woman," said the dentist. "Now, show me which tooth it is." The wife turns to her husband and says: "Open your mouth and show the dentist which tooth it is, dear."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115502284300580476?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115502284300580476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115502284300580476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115502284300580476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115502284300580476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/dentist-joke-man-and-his-wife-entered.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115493607930126187</id><published>2006-08-07T02:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T11:18:31.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wimp Joke&lt;br /&gt;There were three guys talking in the pub. Two of them were talking about the amount of control they have over their wives, while the third remained very quiet. After a while one of the first two turned to the third and says, "Well, what about you, what sort of control do you have over your wife?" After a moment's thought, the third fellow says "Ok, I'll tell you. Just the other night my wife came to me on her hands and knees." The first two guys were amazed. "What happened then?" they asked.&lt;br /&gt;"She said, 'get out from under the bed and fight like a man'."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115493607930126187?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115493607930126187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115493607930126187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115493607930126187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115493607930126187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/wimp-joke-there-were-three-guys.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115493602643878593</id><published>2006-08-07T02:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T11:16:47.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Slightly Dirty Joke&lt;br /&gt;Three couples went to see a minister to find out how to become members of his church. The minister said that they would have to go without sex for two weeks and then come back and tell him how it went......The first couple was retired, the second couple was middle aged and the third couple was newly married. Two weeks went by, and the couples returned to the minister. The retired couple said it was no problem at all. The middle-aged couple said it was tough for the first week, but after that, it was no problem. The newlyweds said it was fine until she dropped the can of paint. "A can of paint?" exclaimed the minister. "Yeah," said the newlywed man. "She dropped the can and when she bent over to pick it up, I had to have her right there and then. Lust took over." The minister just shook his head and said that they were no longer welcome in the church. "That's okay," said the man. "We're not welcome in Home Depot either."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115493602643878593?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115493602643878593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115493602643878593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115493602643878593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115493602643878593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/slightly-dirty-joke-three-couples-went.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115493596887930901</id><published>2006-08-07T02:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T11:17:57.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Goofy Joke&lt;br /&gt;A man is walking his dog, and passes a restaurant; the cooking smells are so tempting, he decides he would like to stop for lunch, but the sign says no animals are permitted. After a couple of moments thought, he decides to brazen it out; he puts on a pair of sunglasses, walks into the restaurant with his dog on a leash and asks to be seated. The waiter says "I am sorry sir, but we do not permit animals in the restaurant." The man says, "But I'm blind, and this is my seeing eye dog." The waiter responds sceptically: "Your seeing eye dog? Sir, that dog is a Chihuahua ." The man cries, "Oh God, they gave me a Chihuahua?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115493596887930901?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115493596887930901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115493596887930901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115493596887930901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115493596887930901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/08/goofy-joke-man-is-walking-his-dog-and.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115388940848915579</id><published>2006-07-25T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T23:50:08.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The college class was told they had to write a 'short story' in as few words as possible. The story must contain the following three components:&lt;br /&gt;(1)Religion&lt;br /&gt;(2)Sexuality&lt;br /&gt;(3)Mystery&lt;br /&gt;There was only one A+ paper in the entire class. It read as follows... Good God. I'm pregnant. I wonder who did it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115388940848915579?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115388940848915579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115388940848915579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388940848915579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388940848915579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/college-class-was-told-they-had-to.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115388916206115495</id><published>2006-07-25T23:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T23:46:02.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A census taker in a rural area went up to a farmhouse and knocked. When a woman came to the door, he asked her how many children she had and their ages. She said, "Les' see now, there's the twins, Sally and Billy, they're 32. And the twins, Seth &amp;amp; Beth, they're 26. And the twins, Penny and Jenny, they're 24." "Hold on," said the census taker, "Did you get twins every time?" The woman answered, "Heck no, there were hundreds of times we didn't get nothin."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115388916206115495?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115388916206115495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115388916206115495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388916206115495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388916206115495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/census-taker-in-rural-area-went-up-to.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115388907266145491</id><published>2006-07-25T23:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T11:19:34.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Work Joke&lt;br /&gt;A bum asked a businessman, "Give me $10 till payday." The businessman fellow responded, "When's payday?" The bum said, "I don't know. You're the one that's working."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115388907266145491?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115388907266145491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115388907266145491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388907266145491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388907266145491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/work-joke-bum-asked-businessman-give.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115388895428442445</id><published>2006-07-25T23:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T23:42:34.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Before our daughter went off to college, our family took a vacation in Colorado, flying to Denver and renting a car. We visited the Royal Gorge Bridge, which is more than 1000 feet above the Arkansas River. Walking out onto the bridge, I noticed it swayed in the wind. Then a car went past us, and the wood-plank roadway moved beneath my feet. "I don't think I want to drive the car across this bridge," I finally said. "What are you worried about?" our daughter replied. "It's a rental."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115388895428442445?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115388895428442445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115388895428442445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388895428442445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388895428442445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/before-our-daughter-went-off-to.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115388883436474434</id><published>2006-07-25T23:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T23:40:34.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sixth grade science teacher Mr. Sampson asks his class; "Who can tell me which organ of the human body expands to 10 times its usual size when stimulated?" Nobody raises a hand, so he calls on the first student to look his way. "Mary, can you tell me?" Mary stands up, blushing furiously. "Sir, how dare you ask me such a question?" she says. "I'm going to complain to my parents, who will complain to the principal, who will have you fired." Mr. Sampson is shocked by Mary's reaction, but undaunted, he asks the class the question again. This time Sam raises his hand. "Yes, Sam," says Mr. Sampson. "Sir, the correct answer is the iris of the human eye." "Very good, Sam. Thank you." Mr. Sampson then turns to Mary and says, "Mary, I have 3 things to say to you. First, it's clear that you have not done your homework. Second, you have a dirty mind. And third, one day you are going to be sadly disappointed."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115388883436474434?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115388883436474434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115388883436474434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388883436474434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115388883436474434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/sixth-grade-science-teacher-mr.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115345846205605769</id><published>2006-07-21T00:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T00:07:42.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A mother and a daughter are shopping in the mall, when the mother eyes an expensive fur coat. "This year," she says, "I think that I will buy my own birthday present instead of making you and dad shop for me." "But mom," says the daughter, "some poor, helpless creature has to suffer so that you can have this coat. Don't you think that's kind ofcruel?" "Don't worry honey," says the mother, "your father won't get the bill for a couple of weeks."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115345846205605769?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115345846205605769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115345846205605769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115345846205605769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115345846205605769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/mother-and-daughter-are-shopping-in.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115329184615970526</id><published>2006-07-19T01:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T01:50:46.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two guys were at a bar talking about how highly their wives thought of them. The first guy said, "My wife, she thinks so much of me that she won't let me do any work around the house. It's great." The second guy says, "That's nothing. My wife thinks I'm a God." "She thinks you're a God? What makes you say that?" "Easy. Every night she places a burnt offering before me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115329184615970526?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115329184615970526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115329184615970526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329184615970526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329184615970526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/two-guys-were-at-bar-talking-about-how.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115329178166268818</id><published>2006-07-19T01:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T01:49:41.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man was sitting in a bar, nursing a beer and looking extremely dejected. The sympathetic bartender said, "Man, you look real down. Wanna talk about it? Sometimes it helps." "Well, I doubt it," replied the man. "You see, I'm a composer who hasn't had much luck. It seems the world is really against me. Recently I wrote the best song I've ever written, but I can't get any music publishers interested, and I've been to them all." The bartender suggested, "Well' let's hear it. Try it out on thecrowd." The man moves to the bar piano and proceeds to play a tune so incredibly melodious, so ethereal, that the bar turns dead quiet except for the music. Everyone is totally entranced. Goose bumps appear all over the audience and lumps rise in throats, as the music penetrates the very soul of all those present. When he finishes playing, all is silent for a few minutes, then the bartender remarked, "I cant believe you can't get that published. That has to be the most beautiful piece of music I've ever heard. What's it called, anyway?" "I call it 'I Love You So Much That I Just Know You'll Cheat On Me, You Witch'" the musician replied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115329178166268818?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115329178166268818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115329178166268818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329178166268818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329178166268818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/man-was-sitting-in-bar-nursing-beer.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115329156985961245</id><published>2006-07-19T01:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T01:46:09.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A bright young Scottish lad named Shamus had the opportunity to go to university in London. So he packed his bags and said goodbye to his mother and left the highlands for the big city. After the first week his mother called to see how her boy was holding up."I love it here Mother," Shamus told her, "but these English students are the oddest people ever. Why the boy who lives in the dormitory room next to me bangs his head against the wall until midnight everynight. And the boy in the room above me stomps around until midnight every night. And the boy right below me blasts his stereo until midnight every night." "Why don't you complain to the Dean of students?" asks his mother."Well, it doesn't bother me much," answers Shamus. "I'm usually up until that time quietly practicing my bagpipes anyway."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115329156985961245?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115329156985961245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115329156985961245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329156985961245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329156985961245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/bright-young-scottish-lad-named-shamus.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115329148157468415</id><published>2006-07-19T01:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T01:47:05.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man decides to join the circus. He shows up to demonstrate his skills to the impresario. "I have the most unusual act," he announces. "I'm sure it will amaze you." He proceeds to climb a tall tower, and jumps off. He flaps his arms wildly, and finally his fall slows. He soars forward, then swoops upward, turns and swoops back again. Finally he stops in mid air and gently lowers himself to the ground. The impresario stares blankly at him for a long time. Finally he says, "Is that all you've got? Bird imitations?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115329148157468415?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115329148157468415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115329148157468415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329148157468415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329148157468415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/man-decides-to-join-circus.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115329093822659593</id><published>2006-07-19T01:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T01:35:38.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One rainy evening, my husband, John, and I emerged from a restaurant&lt;br /&gt;only to find that he had locked the keys in the car. He insisted he&lt;br /&gt;could open the door with a wire coat hanger, so we went back to the&lt;br /&gt;restaurant to get one. There were none to be found. John then ran to a department store a quarter-mile away and returned with a hanger. After a few attempts, he got the door open and we climbed in. As we sat there, soaked and cold, John stuck the hanger under his seat. With a smug grin, he said, "Now if this ever happens again, I'll have one."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115329093822659593?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115329093822659593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115329093822659593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329093822659593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329093822659593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/one-rainy-evening-my-husband-john-and.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-115329088575502183</id><published>2006-07-19T01:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T01:34:45.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The newly wed wife said to her husband when he returned from work, "I have great news for you. Pretty soon we're going to be three in this house instead of two." The husband started glowing with happiness and kissing his wife said, "Oh darling, I'm the happiest man in the world." But then she said, "I'm glad that you feel that way because tomorrow morning my mother moves in with us."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-115329088575502183?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/115329088575502183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=115329088575502183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329088575502183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/115329088575502183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/07/newly-wed-wife-said-to-her-husband.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669585910138283</id><published>2006-01-07T23:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:50:59.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;From the Police Blotter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do-It-Yourself Brain Surgery&lt;br /&gt;In Ohio, an unidentified man in his late twenties walked into a police station with a 9-inch wire protruding from his forehead and calmly asked officers to give him an X-ray to help him find his brain, which he claimed had been stolen. Police were shocked to learn that the man had drilled a 6-inch deep hole in his skull with a Black &amp;amp; Decker power drill and had stuck the wire in to try and find the missing brain.&lt;br /&gt;Did I Say That&lt;br /&gt;Police in Los Angeles had good luck with a robbery suspect who just couldn't control himself during a line-up. When detectives asked each man in the line-up to repeat the words, "Give me all your money or I'll shoot", the man shouted, "That's not what I said."&lt;br /&gt;Are We Communicating&lt;br /&gt;A man spoke frantically into the phone, "My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart." "Is this her first child?" The doctor asked. "No, you idiot," the man shouted, "This is her husband."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669585910138283?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669585910138283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669585910138283' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669585910138283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669585910138283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/from-police-blotter-do-it-yourself.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669565068532486</id><published>2006-01-07T23:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:47:30.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A guy got a credit card bill stating that he owed $0.00. He ignored it but next month he got another one stating they were going to cancel his credit card if he didn't send them $0.00. He called them, talked to them, they said it was a glitch and told him they'd take care of it. The following month he tried to charge something and couldn't. He called the credit card company who again said they would take care of it. The next day he got his bill for $0.00 stating that he was very delinquent. So he thought he had a solution. He mailed the credit card company a check for $0.00, and the credit card company's computer processed it, noting that his account was now paid in full. A week later, the man's bank called him asking him what he was doing writing a check for $0.00. He explained and they said, "Well, your $0.00 check has caused our check processing software to fail. We now can't process ANY of our checks from that day electronically because that $0.00 check has caused the program to abort. We are closing your account." The man, who had been considering buying his wife a computer for her birthday, bought her a typewriter instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669565068532486?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669565068532486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669565068532486' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669565068532486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669565068532486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/guy-got-credit-card-bill-stating-that.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669547518589178</id><published>2006-01-07T23:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:44:35.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two youngsters were closely examining bathroom scales on display at the department store. "Have you ever seen one of these before?" one asked. "Yeah, my mom and dad have one," the other replied. "What's it for?" "I don't know," the second boy answered. "I think you stand on it and it makes you mad."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669547518589178?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669547518589178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669547518589178' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669547518589178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669547518589178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/two-youngsters-were-closely-examining.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669543012204562</id><published>2006-01-07T23:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:43:50.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a candlelight vigil by his side. She held his fragile hand, tears running down her face. Her praying roused him from his slumber; He looked up and his pale lips began to move slightly. "Becky my darling" he whispered. "Hush my love," she said. "Rest, don't talk." He was insistent, "Becky," he said in his tired voice, "I have something that I must confess." "There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping Becky, "Everything's all right, go to sleep." "No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I ... I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother." "I know, sweetheart;" whispered Becky, "relax, let the poison work."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669543012204562?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669543012204562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669543012204562' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669543012204562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669543012204562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/jake-was-dying.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669516431010942</id><published>2006-01-07T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:39:24.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A game warden pulls his motorboat up along side a man sitting quietly with a pole in his hand. "Doing a little fishing, are we?" the warden says. The man, painfully aware of his lack of a fishing license answered, "No sir. Just drowning worms."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669516431010942?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669516431010942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669516431010942' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669516431010942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669516431010942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/game-warden-pulls-his-motorboat-up.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669511215282536</id><published>2006-01-07T23:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:38:32.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was signing the receipt for my credit card purchase when the clerk noticed that I hadn't signed my name on the back of the credit card. She informed me that she could not complete the transaction unless the card was signed. When asked why, she explained that it was necessary to compare the signature on the credit card with the signature I just signed on the receipt. So I signed the credit card in front of her. She carefully compared that signature to the one I signed on the receipt. As luck would have it, they matched.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669511215282536?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669511215282536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669511215282536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669511215282536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669511215282536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-was-signing-receipt-for-my-credit.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669500546080171</id><published>2006-01-07T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:36:45.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Junior asks his dad, "Daddy, how was I born?" His dad sighs and replies, "Ah, my son, I guess one day you would have to find out anyway." "Well, you see your Mom and I first got together in a chat room online. Then I set up a date via e-mail with your mom and we met at a cyber-cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, where your mother agreed to a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, but it was too late to hit the delete button." "Six weeks later your mom sent me an instant message saying that her operating system was showing signs of unauthorized program activity from a self extracting file which had implanted itself in her BIOS. Then nine months later a little Pop-Up appeared and said: 'You've GotMale'."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669500546080171?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669500546080171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669500546080171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669500546080171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669500546080171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/junior-asks-his-dad-daddy-how-was-i.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669481265639064</id><published>2006-01-07T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:33:32.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A patient complained to his doctor, "I've been to three other doctors and none of them agreed with your diagnosis." The doctor calmly replied, "Don't listen to those quacks. Just wait until the autopsy, then we'll see who was right."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669481265639064?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669481265639064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669481265639064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669481265639064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669481265639064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/patient-complained-to-his-doctor-ive.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-113669476469898939</id><published>2006-01-07T23:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T23:32:44.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>On the first day of college, the Dean addressed the students, pointing out some of the rules, "The female dormitory will be out-of-bounds for all male students, and the male dormitory to the female students. Anybody caught breaking this rule will be fined $20 the first time." He continued, "Anybody caught breaking this rule the second time will be fined $60." And concluded with this stern fine, "Being caught a third time will cost you a fine of $180. Are there any questions?" A male voice from within the crowd was heard asking, "How much for a season pass?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-113669476469898939?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/113669476469898939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=113669476469898939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669476469898939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/113669476469898939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2006/01/on-first-day-of-college-dean-addressed.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112987504828228258</id><published>2005-10-21T01:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T01:10:48.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Since flu season is just around the corner I thought that I would passthis on ...&lt;br /&gt;Eat right! Make sure you get your daily dose of fruits and veggies.&lt;br /&gt; Take your vitamins and bump up your vitamin C.&lt;br /&gt;Get plenty of exercise because exercise helps build our immune system. Walk for at least an hour a day, go for a swim, take the stairs instead of the elevator, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Wash your hands often. If you can't wash them, keep abottle of antibacterial stuff around.&lt;br /&gt; Get lots of fresh air. Open doors and windows whenever possible.&lt;br /&gt;Try to eliminate as much stress from your life as you can. Get plenty of rest.&lt;br /&gt;OR&lt;br /&gt;Take the doctor's approach.&lt;br /&gt;Think about it... When you go for a shot, what do they do first? They Clean your arm with alcohol... Why? Because Alcohol KILLS GERMS.&lt;br /&gt;So.......&lt;br /&gt;I walk to the liquor store. (exercise)&lt;br /&gt; I put lime in my Corona...(fruit)&lt;br /&gt;Celery in my Bloody Mary (veggies)&lt;br /&gt;Drink outdoors on the bar patio..(fresh air)&lt;br /&gt;Tell jokes, laugh....(eliminate stress)&lt;br /&gt; Then pass out. (rest)&lt;br /&gt;The way I see it... If you keep your alcohol levels up, flu germs can't get you! My grandmother always said, "A shot in the glass is better than one in the ass!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112987504828228258?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112987504828228258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112987504828228258' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112987504828228258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112987504828228258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/10/since-flu-season-is-just-around-corner.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112987456508331728</id><published>2005-10-21T01:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T01:02:45.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here is a chicken recipe that also includes the use of popcorn as a stuffing - imagine that! When I found this recipe, I thought it was perfect for people like me, who just are not sure how to tell when poultry is thoroughly cooked, but not dried out. Give this a try.&lt;br /&gt;BAKED STUFFED CHICKEN&lt;br /&gt;6-7 lb. baking chicken&lt;br /&gt;1 cup melted butter&lt;br /&gt;1 cup stuffing (Pepperidge Farm is good.)&lt;br /&gt;1 cup uncooked popcorn  (ORVILLE REDENBACHERS LOW FAT)&lt;br /&gt;Salt/pepper to taste&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Brush chicken well with melted butter, salt, and pepper. Fill cavity with stuffing and popcorn. Place in baking pan with the neck end toward the back of the oven. Listen for the popping sounds. When the chicken's butt blows the oven door open and the chicken flies across the room, it is done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112987456508331728?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112987456508331728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112987456508331728' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112987456508331728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112987456508331728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/10/here-is-chicken-recipe-that-also.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112987439512284482</id><published>2005-10-21T00:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T00:59:55.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>During a visit to the mental asylum, a visitor asked the Director what is the criteria that defines a patient to be  institutionalized. "Well," said the Director, "we fill up a bathtub, we offer a teaspoon, a teacup, and a bucket to the patient and ask the patient to  empty the bathtub." Okay, here's your test:&lt;br /&gt;1. Would you use the  spoon? or&lt;br /&gt;2. Would you use the teacup? or&lt;br /&gt;3. Would you use the  bucket?&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I understand," said the visitor. "A normal person would  choose the bucket as it is larger than the spoon or the cup." "Noooooo,"  answered the Director. "A normal person would pull the  plug."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112987439512284482?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112987439512284482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112987439512284482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112987439512284482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112987439512284482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/10/during-visit-to-mental-asylum-visitor.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112952113828588125</id><published>2005-10-16T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T22:52:18.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A couple of drinking buddies, who are airplane mechanics, are in the hangar at San Francisco. The runway is fogged in and they have nothing to do. One of them says to the other, "Man, have you got anything?" The second guy says, "Nah, but I hear you can drink jet fuel, that it will kinda give you a buzz." So they do drink it, get smashed and have a beautiful time ... as only drinking buddies can. The following morning, one of them wakes up figuring that his head will explode if he gets up. Nevertheless, he gets up and is surprised to find that he feels good; in fact, he feels great. The phone rings. It's his buddy asking him how he feels. "I feel great," he says. His buddy agrees, saying, "I feel great too. You don't have a hangover either?" "No," he replies. "That jet fuel is great stuff ... no hangover. We ought to do this more often." "Yeah, we could, but there's just one thing..." "What's that?" "Did you fart yet?" "No." "Well, don't, cause I'm in Phoenix."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112952113828588125?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112952113828588125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112952113828588125' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952113828588125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952113828588125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/10/couple-of-drinking-buddies-who-are.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112952078721648512</id><published>2005-10-16T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T22:46:27.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>At one Army base, the monthly trip to the rifle range had been canceled for the second month in a row, but the bi weekly physical fitness test was still on as planned. One soldier mused, "Does it bother anyone else that the Army doesn't seem to care how well we can shoot, but they are extremely interested in how fast we can run?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112952078721648512?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112952078721648512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112952078721648512' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952078721648512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952078721648512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/10/at-one-army-base-monthly-trip-to-rifle.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112952065565129896</id><published>2005-10-16T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T22:44:15.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One dark night outside a small town in Minnesota, a fire started inside the local chemical plant and in a blink of an eye it exploded into massive flames. The alarm went out to all the fire departments for miles around. When the volunteer fire fighters appeared on the scene, the chemical company president rushed to the fire chief and said, "All of our secret formulas are in the vault in the center of the plant. They must be saved. I will give $50,000 to the fire department that brings them out intact." But the roaring flames held the firefighters off. Soon more fire departments had to be called in as the situation became desperate. As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer was now $100,000 to the fire department who could bring out the company's secret files. From the distance, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into sight. It was the nearby Norwegian rural township volunteer fire company composed mainly of Norwegians over the age of 65. To everyone's amazement, the little run-down fire engine, operated by these Norwegians, passed all the newer sleek engines parked outside the plant and drove straight into the middle of the inferno. Outside, the other firemen watched as the Norwegian old timers jumped off and began to fight the fire with a performance and effort never seen before. Within a short time, the Norse old timers had extinguished the fire and saved the secret formulas. The grateful chemical company president joyfully announced that for such a superhuman feat he was upping the reward to $200,000, and he walked over to personally thank each of the brave, though elderly, Norse firefighters. The local TV news reporters rushed in after capturing the event on film asking, "What are you going to do with all that money?" "Vell," said Ole Larsen, the 70-year-old fire chief, "da furst thing ve do is fix da brakes on dat truck."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112952065565129896?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112952065565129896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112952065565129896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952065565129896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952065565129896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/10/one-dark-night-outside-small-town-in.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112952037013225406</id><published>2005-10-16T22:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T22:39:30.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A  man, his wife, and mother-in-law went on vacation to the Holy Land. While they were there the mother-in-law passed away. The undertaker told them, "You can have her shipped home for $5,000, or you can bury her here in the Holy Land for $150.00." The man thought about it and told him he would just have her shipped home. The undertaker asked, "Why? Why would you spend $5000 to ship your mother-in-law home, when it would be wonderful for her to rest here in the Holy Land, at the cost of only $150?" The son-in-law says, "A man died here about 2000 years ago. He was buried here, and three days later he rose from the dead. I just can't convince myself to take that chance..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112952037013225406?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112952037013225406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112952037013225406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952037013225406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112952037013225406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/10/man-his-wife-and-mother-in-law-went-on.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112200409840047528</id><published>2005-07-21T22:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T22:48:18.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>OK, this one isn't a joke, but I thought it was cute. Hope you do too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.chartertn.net/tonytemplin/FBI_eyes/"&gt;http://users.chartertn.net/tonytemplin/FBI_eyes/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112200409840047528?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112200409840047528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112200409840047528' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112200409840047528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112200409840047528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/07/ok-this-one-isnt-joke-but-i-thought-it.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112162191987097383</id><published>2005-07-17T12:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T12:38:39.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I remember the story about the old country preacher who had a teenage son, and it was getting time the boy should give some thought along the line of choosing a profession. Like many young men, then and now, the boy didn't really know what he wanted to do- and he didn't seem overly concerned about it. One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment. What he did was, he went into the boy's room and placed on his study table these three objects: a Bible, a silver dollar, and a bottle of whiskey..."Now then," the old preacher said to himself, "I'll just hide behind the door here, and when my son comes home from school this afternoon, I'll see which of these three objects he picks up. If he picks up the Bible, he's going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be! If he picks up the dollar, he's going to be a businessman, and that would be o.k. too. But if he picks up the bottle, he's going to be a drunkard - a no-good drunkard and Lord, what a shame that would be." The old man was anxious as he waited, and soon he heard his son's footsteps as he came in the house whistling and headed back to his room. He deposited his books on the bed, as a matter of routine, and as he turned around to leave the room he spotted the objects on the table. With a curious set in his eye, he walked over to inspect them. What he finally did was, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar and dropped it into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle and took a big drink... "Lord have mercy," the old man whispered, "He's gonna be a politician!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112162191987097383?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112162191987097383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112162191987097383' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112162191987097383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112162191987097383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-remember-story-about-old-country.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-112162169999844446</id><published>2005-07-17T12:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T12:35:00.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hillary Clinton goes to a primary school in New York to talk about the world.  After her talk, she has a "question &amp; answer" period.  One little  boy raises his hand and the Senator asks him for his name.  He says,   "Kenneth."  "And what is your question, Kenneth?"  "I have two questions:  1st  -  Why would you want to run for President after your husband shamed the office? 2nd  -  Whatever happened to all those things you took when you left the White House?"  Just then the bell rings for recess.  Hillary Clinton informs the children they will continue after recess.   When they resume Hillary says, "Okay where were we?  Oh, that's right, question time.  Who has a question?"  A different little boy puts his hand up.  Hillary points to him and asks him for his name. "Larry."  "And what is your question, Larry?"  "I  have four questions: 1st  -  Why would you run for President after your husband shamed the office? 2nd  -  Whatever happened to all those things you took when you left the White House? 3rd  -  Why did the recess bell go off 20 minutes early? 4th  -  What happened to Kenneth ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-112162169999844446?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/112162169999844446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=112162169999844446' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112162169999844446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/112162169999844446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/07/hillary-clinton-goes-to-primary-school.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111993760214605379</id><published>2005-06-28T00:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T00:46:42.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A Scottish man was at a baseball game. It was the first time he had ever seen the sport so he sat quietly. The first batter approached the mound, he took a few swings and then hit a double. Everyone was on their feet screaming "Run, Run." This happened two more times, with a single and a triple. The Scottish man was now exited and ready to get into the game. The next batter came up and four balls went by. The umpire called "walk" and the batter started on a slow trot to first. The Scotsman, extremely excited now, stood up and screamed, "R-R-Run me boy, rrrun!" Everyone around him started laughing. So the Scotsman, extremely embarrassed, sat back down. A friendly fan, seeing the Scotsman's embarrassment, leaned over and said, "He can't run, he got four balls." The Scotsman then stood up and screamed, "Walk with pride,laddie...walk with pride!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111993760214605379?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111993760214605379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111993760214605379' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111993760214605379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111993760214605379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/scottish-man-was-at-baseball-game.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111963481301924225</id><published>2005-06-24T12:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T12:40:13.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The other night I was invited out for a night with the guys. I told my wife that I would be home by midnight... "promise!" Well, the hours passed quickly and the beer was going down way too easy. At  3am, drunk as a skunk, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times. Quickly, I realized she'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for having such a rapid, witty solution, even when smashed, to escape a possible conflict. The next morning my wife asked me what time I got in, and I told her 12 o'clock.  She didn't seem disturbed at all. Got away with that one, I thought! Then she told me we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked her why she said "Well, last night it cuckooed 3 times, then said, 'Oh shoot,' cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more.... then farted."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111963481301924225?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111963481301924225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111963481301924225' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963481301924225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963481301924225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/other-night-i-was-invited-out-for.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111963435401248924</id><published>2005-06-24T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T12:32:34.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A car breaks down along the motorway one day, so the driver eases it over onto the shoulder of the motorway. He jumps out of the car, opens the trunk, and pulls out two men in trench coats. The men stand behind the car, open up their coats and start exposing themselves to the oncoming traffic. One of the worst pile-ups in history occurs. When questioned by police why he put two deviates along the side of the road, the man replied, "I broke down and was just using my emergency flashers!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111963435401248924?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111963435401248924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111963435401248924' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963435401248924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963435401248924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/car-breaks-down-along-motorway-one-day.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111963418394425448</id><published>2005-06-24T12:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T12:29:43.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A little old woman answered a knock on the door one day, only to be confronted by a well-dressed young man carrying a vacuum cleaner. "Good morning," said the young man. "If I could take a couple of minutes of your time, I would like to demonstrate the very latest in high-powered vacuum cleaners. "Go away!" said the old woman. "I haven't got any money!" and she proceeded to close the door. Quick as a flash, the young man wedged his foot in the door and pushed it wide open. "Don't be too hasty!" he said. "Not until you have at least seen my demonstration." In addition, with that, he emptied a bucket of horse manure onto her hallway carpet. "If this vacuum cleaner does not remove all traces of this horse manure from your carpet, Madam, I will personally eat the remainder." The old woman stepped back and said, "Well I hope you've got a darned good appetite, because they cut off my electricity this morning."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111963418394425448?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111963418394425448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111963418394425448' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963418394425448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963418394425448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/little-old-woman-answered-knock-on.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111963402159025783</id><published>2005-06-24T12:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T12:27:01.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; give him a freshly-charged electric eel and chances are he won't bother you for anything ever again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111963402159025783?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111963402159025783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111963402159025783' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963402159025783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963402159025783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/give-man-fish-and-you-feed-him-for-day.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111963395127093951</id><published>2005-06-24T12:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T12:25:51.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A rabbi, a priest and a minister have their houses of worship side by side, so they decide to carpool. On the first day, the other two are shocked to see the pastor lay hands on the hood and pray silently. "What are you doing?" the priest asks. The pastor looks up. "I'm just dedicating the car to the Lord's service." "Good idea! Be right back!" the priest exclaims, running into his church. He emerges with a bulb on a short stick, shaking water out of it onto the car. The rabbi stares. "What are you doing?" he says. "I'm consecrating it with holy water," the priest replies. "Great idea!" the rabbi says, and runs into his synagogue's tool shed. He emerges with a hacksaw and takes off an inch of the tailpipe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111963395127093951?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111963395127093951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111963395127093951' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963395127093951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111963395127093951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/rabbi-priest-and-minister-have-their.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111958351461493497</id><published>2005-06-23T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T22:25:14.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man who had been battling a mental disorder for years finally seemed to have improved to the point where it was thought he might be released. The head of the institution, in a fit of commendable caution, decided, however, to interview him first. "Tell me," said he, "if we release you, as we are considering doing, what do you intend to do with your life?" The inmate said, "It would be wonderful to get back to real life and if I do, I will certainly refrain from making my former mistake. I was a nuclear physicist, you know, and it was the stress of my work in weapons research that helped put me here. If I am released, I shall confine myself to work in pure theory, where I trust the situation will be less difficult and stressful." "Marvelous," said the head of the institution. "Or else," ruminated the inmate. "I might teach. There is something to be said for spending one's life in bringing up a new generation of scientists." "Absolutely," said the head. "Then again, I might write. There is considerable need for books on science for the general public. Or I might even write a novel based on my experiences in this fine institution." "An interesting possibility," said the head. "And finally, if none of these things appeals to me, I can always continue to be a teakettle."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111958351461493497?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111958351461493497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111958351461493497' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111958351461493497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111958351461493497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/man-who-had-been-battling-mental.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111954529537813339</id><published>2005-06-23T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T11:48:15.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>German scientists dug 50 meters down and discovered small pieces of copper. After studying these pieces for a long time, Germany announced that the ancient Germans 25,000 years ago had a nation-wide telephone net. Naturally, the Russian government was not that easily impressed. They ordered their own scientists to dig even deeper. 100 meters down they found small pieces of glass and they soon announced that the ancient Russians 35,000 years ago already had a nation-wide fiber net. American scientists were outraged by this. They dug 200 meters down and found absolutely nothing. They happily concluded that the ancient Americans 55,000 years ago had cellular telephones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111954529537813339?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111954529537813339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111954529537813339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954529537813339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954529537813339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/german-scientists-dug-50-meters-down.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111954511444104406</id><published>2005-06-23T11:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T11:45:14.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A husband, so proud of the fact that his wife had given birth to 6 children, begins to call her "mother of six" rather than by her first name. The wife, amused at first, chuckles. A few years down the road, the wife has grown tired of her husband's description.  "Mother of six," he would say, "Get me a beer!" "Hey mother of six, what's for dinner tonight?" This type of situation persisted to a boiling point. Finally, while attending a party with her husband, he jokingly yelledout, "Hey mother of six, I think it's time to go!" The wife seized the moment and shouted back, "I'll be right with you -- father of four!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111954511444104406?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111954511444104406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111954511444104406' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954511444104406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954511444104406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/husband-so-proud-of-fact-that-his-wife.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111954490345269262</id><published>2005-06-23T11:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T11:41:43.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An elderly man in Florida had owned a large farm for several years. He had a large pond in the back, with picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some apple and peach trees. The pond was properly shaped and fixed up for swimming when it was built. One evening the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn't been there for a while, and look it over. He grabbed a five-gallon bucket to bring back some fruit. As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing with glee. As he came closer he saw it was a bunch of young women skinny-dipping in his pond. He made the women aware of his presence and they all went to the deep end. One of the women shouted to him, "We're not coming out until you leave!" The old man frowned, "I didn't come down here to watch you ladies swim naked or make you get out of the pond naked." Holding the bucket up he said, "I'm here to feed the alligator."&lt;br /&gt;Moral: Old men can still think fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111954490345269262?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111954490345269262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111954490345269262' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954490345269262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954490345269262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/elderly-man-in-florida-had-owned-large.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111954453352027314</id><published>2005-06-23T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T11:36:44.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Prison vs. work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just in case you ever got the two mixed up, this should make things abit more clear....&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...you spend the majority of your time in an 8X10 cell.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you spend the majority of your time in a 6X8 cubicle.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...you get three meals a day.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you only get a break for one meal and you pay for it.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...you get time off for good behavior.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you get more work for good behavior.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...the guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you must carry around a security card and open all the doors for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...you can watch TV and play games.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you get fired for watching TV and playing games.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...you get your own toilet.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... you have to share with some idiot who pees on the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...they allow your family and friends to visit.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you can't speak to your family.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...all expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...you spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars.&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON...you must deal with sadistic wardens.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK...they are called managers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111954453352027314?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111954453352027314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111954453352027314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954453352027314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954453352027314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/prison-vs.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111954426822519014</id><published>2005-06-23T11:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T11:31:08.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man wanted an Easter pet for his daughter. She had been going to church every Sunday without a single protest. She was helping around the house. And her Easter basket needed just one more thing to make it really special. So he went to the local pet shop to see what they had. He looked at a baby rabbit, a baby chick and a baby duck. They were all very cute, but he decided to buy the baby chick. Do you know why? The baby chick was a little cheeper!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111954426822519014?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111954426822519014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111954426822519014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954426822519014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111954426822519014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/man-wanted-easter-pet-for-his-daughter.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111906727626906906</id><published>2005-06-17T22:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T23:01:16.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Famous Celebrity Passes Away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is with the saddest heart that we must pass on the following news. Please join us in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Cap'n Crunch. The graveside was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very 'smart' cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky in his youth and a crusty old man, he was considered a roll model for millions. Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough; two children, John Dough and Jane Dough; plus the bun they had in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111906727626906906?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111906727626906906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111906727626906906' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111906727626906906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111906727626906906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/famous-celebrity-passes-away-it-is.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111906674705542900</id><published>2005-06-17T22:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T22:52:27.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bob went to a psychiatrist. "Doc," he said, "I've got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I think there's somebody under it. I get under the bed, I think there's somebody on top of it. Top, under, top, under... you gotta help me, I'm going crazy!" "Just put yourself in my hands for one year," said the shrink. "Come to me three times a week, and I'll cure your fears." "How much do you charge?" "A hundred dollars per visit." "I'll sleep on it," said Bob. Six months later the doctor met Bob on the street. "Why didn't you ever come to see me again?" asked the psychiatrist. "For a hundred buck's a visit? A bartender cured me for $10." "Is that so! How?" "He told me to cut the legs off the bed!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111906674705542900?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111906674705542900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111906674705542900' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111906674705542900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111906674705542900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/bob-went-to-psychiatrist.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111906661771131506</id><published>2005-06-17T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T22:54:07.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why do mermaids wear sea shells?&lt;br /&gt;Because B-shells were too small, and D-shells were too big.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111906661771131506?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111906661771131506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111906661771131506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111906661771131506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111906661771131506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/why-do-mermaids-wear-sea-shells.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111880539898072821</id><published>2005-06-14T22:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T22:16:38.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You know you're no longer a teenager when...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; You wear black socks with sandals.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Your back goes out more than you do.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; You quit trying to hold your stomach in, no matter who walks into the room.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Your good friend is dating someone half his/her age... and isn't breaking any laws.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; You sing along with the elevator music&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; You constantly talk about the price of gasoline&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; You enjoy hearing about other people's operations.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; People call at 8 p.m. and ask, "Did I wake you?"&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; You bought cable just for the weather channel.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; You have a party, and the neighbors don't even realize it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111880539898072821?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111880539898072821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111880539898072821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111880539898072821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111880539898072821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/you-know-youre-no-longer-teenager-when.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111880524825550944</id><published>2005-06-14T22:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T22:14:08.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I used to not get along well with my mother-in-law, but over the last few months I've developed quite an attachment for her. It goes over her head and a strap comes down under her chin to keep her mouth shut!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111880524825550944?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111880524825550944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111880524825550944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111880524825550944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111880524825550944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-used-to-not-get-along-well-with-my.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111829264980067094</id><published>2005-06-08T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T23:50:49.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A couple of rednecks are out in the woods hunting when one of them suddenly grabs his chest and falls to the ground. He doesn't seem to be breathing, and his eyes are rolled back in his head. The other redneck whips out his cell phone and calls 911. He gasps to the operator, "I think Bubba is dead! What should I do?" The operator, in a calm soothing voice says, "Just take it easy and follow my instructions. First, let's make sure he's 'dead'." There is a silence... then a shot is heard. The redneck's voice comes back on the line, "Okay, now what?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111829264980067094?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111829264980067094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111829264980067094' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111829264980067094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111829264980067094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/couple-of-rednecks-are-out-in-woods.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111829250890200056</id><published>2005-06-08T23:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T23:48:28.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An elderly couple was having dinner at another couple's house, and after their meal, the wives left the table to go to the kitchen. The two elderly gents were talking, and one says: "Last night we went out to a fabulous new restaurant. I'd highly recommend it." The other man says: "What's the name of the restaurant?" The first man thinks long and hard with a furrowed brow, finally saying: "Ah, what is the name of that red flower you give to some one you love?" His friend replies: "A carnation?" "No, no. The other one," the man says. His friend suggests, "The poppy?" "No, no, no," growls the man. "You know - the one that is red and has thorns." His friend says: "Do you mean a rose?" "Yes! Thank you!" the first man says. He then turns toward the kitchen and yells: "Rose, what's the name of that restaurant we went to last night?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111829250890200056?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111829250890200056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111829250890200056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111829250890200056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111829250890200056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/elderly-couple-was-having-dinner-at.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111829209177222267</id><published>2005-06-08T23:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T23:41:31.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"How was your golf game, dear?" asked Jack's wife Tracy. "Well, I was hitting pretty well, but my eye sight's gotten so bad I couldn't see where the ball went." "You're 75 years old, Jack!" admonished his wife, "Why don't you take my brother Scott along?" "But he's 85 and doesn't even play golf anymore," protested Jack. "But he's got perfect eyesight. He could watch your ball," Tracy pointed out. The next day Jack teed off with Scott looking on. Jack swung, and the ball disappeared down the middle of the fairway.  "Do you see it?" asked Jack. "Yup," Scott answered. "Well, where is it?" yelled Jack, peering off into the distance. "I forgot."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111829209177222267?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111829209177222267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111829209177222267' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111829209177222267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111829209177222267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/how-was-your-golf-game-dear-asked.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820445658268378</id><published>2005-06-07T23:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T23:20:56.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>While giving a man his physical, the doctor noticed several dark, ugly bruises on his shins, so he asked, "Do you play hockey, soccer, or any really physical sports?" "Not at all," said the man. "I just play bridge with my wife."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820445658268378?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820445658268378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820445658268378' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820445658268378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820445658268378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/while-giving-man-his-physical-doctor.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820436111479533</id><published>2005-06-07T23:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T23:19:21.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did you hear about the train conductor who got sentenced to death for mass murder? Well, the old-timer had worked for the railroad for 50 years, and all that they gave him was a "stupid watch" and it wasn't even a gold watch. Upset, he cussed out the bosses and became sloppy and rude, making passengers uneasy. With only one year until he could retire, his bosses felt sorry for the old man, and sent him to a railroad switchyard in the middle of the desert. Once a day, all he had to do was switch the tracks so the east and west bound trains didn't collide. The first day, he heard the whistles of both trains and he just sat there rocking in his chair. The trains came closer, and closer and closer. He just sat there rocking, back and forth, laughing. "I'll show them for sticking me out here alone in the middle of the desert," he cackled. Then it happened. The trains slammed together head-on, killing all 100 people on board. The conductor was tried, convicted of mass murder and sentenced to death. On the day he was going to be electrocuted, prison officials strapped the conductor into THE CHAIR. Ten million volts surged through his body. A doctor checked, and the conductor's heart was still beating. So all the electricity within 500 miles was sent through the conductor's body, but again, the doctor noticed a heartbeat. Next, all the electricity in the Midwest was used, but the conductor's heart kept beating. Finally, the warden asked the man: "Why can't you be electrocuted?" The man smiled and said: "I guess I am not a good conductor."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820436111479533?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820436111479533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820436111479533' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820436111479533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820436111479533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/did-you-hear-about-train-conductor-who.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820402810404247</id><published>2005-06-07T23:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T23:13:48.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>John, Brian, and Bill were all locked away in a mental institution for many, many years. One day, the head doctor tells them that if they pass a test he wants to administer to them, they'd be deemed mentally competent and free to leave the nut house. Should they fail, however, they'd be locked away for another five years of observation. All three took the doc up on his offer. The four of them went to the hospital's indoor pool. The pool was drained of water. The doctor leads the patients up to the diving platform, some 60 feet in the air. The doctor motions to John. "Jump." Without hesitation, John leaps off the platform, right into the pool, breaking both arms in the process. The doctor notes this on his clipboard and tells Brian, "Jump." Also without hesitation, Brian flies off the platform into the empty pool, breaking both of his legs. After noting the results on his clipboard, the doctor tells Bill, "Jump." Bill shakes his head. "Naw. I don't think so." The doctor notes this on his clipboard rather enthusiastically and says, "Congratulations, Bill. You're a free man. Just tell me one thing. Why didn't you jump?" "Easy," Bill says, "I can't swim."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820402810404247?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820402810404247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820402810404247' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820402810404247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820402810404247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/john-brian-and-bill-were-all-locked.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820380670677599</id><published>2005-06-07T23:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T23:10:06.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And Now For Today’s Market Report&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helium was up.&lt;br /&gt;Feathers were down.&lt;br /&gt;Paper was stationary.&lt;br /&gt;Fluorescent tubing was dimmed in light trading.&lt;br /&gt;Knives were up sharply.&lt;br /&gt;Cows steered into a bull market.&lt;br /&gt;Pencils lost a few points.&lt;br /&gt;Hiking equipment was trailing.&lt;br /&gt;Elevators rose while escalators continued their slow decline.&lt;br /&gt;Weights were up in heavy trading.&lt;br /&gt;Light switches were off.&lt;br /&gt;Mining equipment hit rock bottom.&lt;br /&gt;Diapers remain unchanged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820380670677599?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820380670677599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820380670677599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820380670677599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820380670677599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/and-now-for-todays-market-report.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820356079336048</id><published>2005-06-07T23:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T23:06:00.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two men waiting at the Pearly Gates strike up a conversation. "How'd you die?" the first man asks the second. "I froze to death," says the second. "That's awful," says the first man. "How does it feel to freeze to death?" "It's very uncomfortable at first", says the second man. "You get the shakes, and you get pains in all your fingers and toes. But eventually, it's a very calm way to go. You get numb and you kind of drift off, as if you're sleeping. How about you, how did you die?" "I had a heart attack," says the first man. "You see, I knew my wife was cheating on me, so one day I showed up at home unexpectedly. I ran up to the bedroom, and found her alone, knitting. I ran down to the basement, but no one was hiding there, either. I ran up to the second floor, but no one was hiding there either. I ran as fast as I could to the attic, and just as I got there, I had a massive heart attack and died." The second man shakes his head. "That's so ironic," he says. "What do you mean?" asks the first man. "If you had only stopped to look in the freezer, we'd both still be alive."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820356079336048?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820356079336048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820356079336048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820356079336048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820356079336048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/two-men-waiting-at-pearly-gates-strike.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820344128233628</id><published>2005-06-07T23:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T23:04:01.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An elderly man found himself in a catholic hospital following an emergency surgery. The nurse, who was a nun, asked him if he had insurance. He answered no, so she asked him if he would be able to cover his bill with a check. He told her no again. As a last resort, she suggested maybe a family member could help. He said he only had one sister, who wasn't married and was a nun too. The nurse reminded him that nuns were married to God. The man's face broke into a huge smile and he said, “Send the bill to my brother-in-law!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820344128233628?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820344128233628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820344128233628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820344128233628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820344128233628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/elderly-man-found-himself-in-catholic.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820325421770367</id><published>2005-06-07T22:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T23:00:54.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Advantages of Aging                                                                                                     &lt;/span&gt;- Kidnappers are not very interested in you.                                                                                           - People no longer view you as a hypochondriac.                                                                                  - Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can't remember them either.                       - Your supply of brain cells is finally down to a manageable number.                                              - No one expects you to run into a burning building.                                                                            - There's nothing left to learn the hard way.                                                                                            - Your joints are more accurate than the National Weather Service.                                                    - In a hostage situation you are likely to be released first.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820325421770367?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820325421770367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820325421770367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820325421770367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820325421770367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/advantages-of-aging-kidnappers-are-not_07.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111820276783505317</id><published>2005-06-07T22:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T22:52:47.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A woman takes her 16-year-old daughter to the doctor. The doctor says, "Okay, Mrs. Jones, what's the problem?" The mother says, "It's my daughter Darla. She keeps getting these cravings, she's putting on weight, and is sick most mornings." The doctor gives Darla a good examination, then turns to the mother and says, "Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but your Darla is pregnant -- about 4 months, would be my guess." The mother says, "Pregnant?! She can't be, she has never ever been left alone with a man! Have you, Darla?" Darla says, "No mother! I've never even kissed a man!" The doctor walked over to the window and just stares out it. About five minutes pass and finally the mother says, "Is there something wrong out there doctor?" The doctor replies, "No, not really, it's just that the last time anything like this happened, a star appeared in the east and three wise men came over the hill. I'll be darned if I'm going to miss it this time!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111820276783505317?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111820276783505317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111820276783505317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820276783505317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111820276783505317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/woman-takes-her-16-year-old-daughter.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773560154762670</id><published>2005-06-02T13:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T13:06:41.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sure-Fire Signs There's Trouble on the Job&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The new policy on sexual harassment includes your photo.&lt;br /&gt;2) The Security guard makes a complete inventory of your work area.&lt;br /&gt;3) Your assistant starts responding to your memos with, "Yeah, whatever."&lt;br /&gt;4) You've got a "It's for you loser" sound when you receive email.&lt;br /&gt;5) Your new Pentium was replaced with an 386sx-18 last weekend.&lt;br /&gt;6) The Human Resources Dept requests an update of your arrest record.&lt;br /&gt;7) Your boss asks if you still have a copy of your five-year contract.&lt;br /&gt;8) You notice your co-workers measuring your cubicle when you arrive at work.&lt;br /&gt;9) Your parking space is moved next to the Dumpster.&lt;br /&gt;10) Your secretary says things like, "Get the phone, my nails aren't dry."&lt;br /&gt;11) The receptionist asks "Who?" when anyone calls on you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773560154762670?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773560154762670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773560154762670' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773560154762670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773560154762670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/sure-fire-signs-theres-trouble-on-job.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773513240410373</id><published>2005-06-02T12:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:58:52.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Things Not to Say to Your New Girlfriend's Parents...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; My parole officer thinks Sara has a calming effect on me.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Did you see that saucer that flew over town yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Can you believe it! Those idiots at the corner market won't cash my welfare check!&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; We're going to keep our relationship quiet for now. My wife can be rather vindictive at times.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Those home pregnancy kits aren't very reliable in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Sara is so pretty I've decided to give up being bisexual just for her.&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Nice place you got here. That painting looks expensive. I bet a nice home like this came with a safe already built in, didn't it?&lt;br /&gt;=&gt; Can I pull my car in your garage? I'm not sure how long that copcar will stay lost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773513240410373?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773513240410373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773513240410373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773513240410373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773513240410373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/things-not-to-say-to-your-new.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773476993849910</id><published>2005-06-02T12:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:52:49.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A police officer came upon a terrible wreck where the driver and passenger had been killed. As he looked upon the wreckage a little monkey came out of the brush and hopped around the crashed car. The officer looked down at the monkey and said "I wish you could talk." The monkey looked up at the officer and shook his head up and down. "You can understand what I'm saying?" asked the officer. Again, the monkey shook his head up and down. "Well, did you see this?" "Yes," motioned the monkey. "What happened?" The monkey pretended to have a can in his hand and turned it up by his mouth. "They were drinking?" asked the officer. "Yes!" the monkey motioned. "What else?" The monkey pinched his fingers together and held them to his mouth. "They were smoking marijuana?" "Yes." the monkey confirmed. "What else?" The monkey motioned "Screwing." "They were screwing, too?" asked the astounded officer. "Yes." "Now wait, you're saying your owners were drinking, smoking and screwing before they wrecked?" "Yes." "What were you doing during all this?" "Driving" motioned the monkey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773476993849910?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773476993849910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773476993849910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773476993849910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773476993849910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/police-officer-came-upon-terrible.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773433190546805</id><published>2005-06-02T12:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:45:31.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An attractive blonde was thrilled to have obtained a divorce and dazzled by the skill and virtuosity of her lawyer, not to mention his healthy income and good looks. In fact, she realized, she had fallen head over heals in love with him, even though he was a married man. "Oh, Sam," she sobbed at the conclusion of the trial, "isn't there some way we can be together, the way we were meant to be?" Taking her by the shoulders, Sam proceeded to scold her, "Snatched drinks in grimy bars on the edge of town, lying on the phone, hurried meetings in sordid motels rooms - is that really what you want for us?" "No, no..." she sobbed, heartsick. "Oh," said the lawyer, "just some suggestions."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773433190546805?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773433190546805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773433190546805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773433190546805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773433190546805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/attractive-blonde-was-thrilled-to-have.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773416524037551</id><published>2005-06-02T12:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:42:45.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A snake goes to see his doctor. "Doc, I need something for my eyes, I can't see very well these days." The Doctor fixes him up with a pair of glasses and tells him to return in 2 weeks for a check up. The snake comes back in 2 weeks and tells the doctor he's very depressed. The doctor replies, "What's the problem? Didn't the glasses help you?" "The glasses are fine doc, but I just discovered I've been romantically involved with a garden hose the past 2 years!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773416524037551?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773416524037551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773416524037551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773416524037551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773416524037551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/snake-goes-to-see-his-doctor.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773409511575760</id><published>2005-06-02T12:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:41:35.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A woman called the Canon help desk with a problem with her printer. The tech asked her if she was "running it under Windows." The woman then responded, "No, my desk is next to the door. But that is a good point. The man sitting in the cubicle next to me is under a window, and his is working fine."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773409511575760?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773409511575760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773409511575760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773409511575760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773409511575760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/woman-called-canon-help-desk-with.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773370094604110</id><published>2005-06-02T12:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:35:00.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This psychiatrist is doing his rounds of his asylum with a couple of students. They look in on one patient and the psychiatrist says to his students, "Sometimes this fellow thinks he's a temptress in a Bizet opera, but today, as you can see from his goose stepping, he thinks he's the World War II head of the Luftwaffe. What condition do you think he's suffering from?" The first student replies, "Is he a paranoid schizophrenic with a multiple personality disorder?" The second student says, "No, surely he just doesn't know whether he's Carmen or Goerring."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773370094604110?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773370094604110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773370094604110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773370094604110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773370094604110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/this-psychiatrist-is-doing-his-rounds.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773322704848401</id><published>2005-06-02T12:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:27:07.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A husband was just coming out of anesthesia after having surgery in the hospital, and his faithful wife was sitting at his bedside. His eyes started to open and he quietly uttered, "You're beautiful." He soon drifted back to sleep, and after awhile he woke up and said, "You're cute." "What happened to beautiful?" she asked him. "The drugs are wearing off," he replied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773322704848401?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773322704848401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773322704848401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773322704848401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773322704848401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/husband-was-just-coming-out-of.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111773317182206436</id><published>2005-06-02T12:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T12:26:12.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My sister brought her daughter a really nice Baby Grand Piano for her birthday. A few weeks later, I asked my sister how her daughter was doing. "Oh," she said, "I persuaded her to switch to a clarinet." "How come?" I asked. "Because," my sister answered, "with a clarinet, she can't sing."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111773317182206436?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111773317182206436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111773317182206436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773317182206436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111773317182206436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-sister-brought-her-daughter-really.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111466160303698191</id><published>2005-04-27T23:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T23:13:23.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A couple from Minneapolis decided to go to Florida to thaw out during one particularly icy winter.  They planned to stay at the very same hotel where they spent their honeymoon  20 years earlier.  Because of hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel schedules.  So, the husband left Minnesota and flew to Florida on Thursday, with his wife flying down the following day.  The husband checked into the hotel.  There was a computer in his room, so he decided to send an e-mail to his wife.  However, he accidentally left out one letter in her e-mail address, and without realizing his error, he sent the e-mail. Meanwhile...somewhere in Houston, a widow had just returned home from her husband's funeral.  He was a minister of many years who was called home to glory following a sudden heart attack.  The widow decided to check her e-mail, expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message, she fainted.  The widow's son rushed into the room, found his mother on the floor, and saw the computer screen which read:&lt;br /&gt;To: My Loving Wife&lt;br /&gt;Subject: I've Arrived&lt;br /&gt;Date: 16 May 2004&lt;br /&gt;I know you're surprised to hear from me.  They have computers here now and you are allowed to send e-mails to your loved ones. I've just arrived and have been checked in.  I see that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow.  Looking forward to seeing you then!  Hope your journey is as uneventful as mine was.&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Sure is hot down here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111466160303698191?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111466160303698191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111466160303698191' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111466160303698191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111466160303698191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/04/couple-from-minneapolis-decided-to-go.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111466126704515644</id><published>2005-04-27T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T23:08:30.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After three weeks in the Garden of Eden, God came to visit Eve. "So, how is everything going?" inquired God. "It is all so beautiful, God," she replied. "The sunrises and sunsets are breathtaking, the smells, the sights, everything is wonderful, but I have just one problem. It is these breasts you have given me. The middle one pushes the other two out and I am constantly knocking them with my arms, catching them on branches and snagging them on bushes. They are a real pain," reported Eve. And Eve went on to tell God that since many other parts of her body came in pairs, such as her limbs, eyes, ears, etc., she felt that having only two breasts might leave her body more "symmetrically balanced," as she put it. "That is a fair point," replied God, "But it was my first shot at this, you know. I gave the animals six breasts, so I figured that you needed only half of those, but I see that you are right. I will fix it up right away." And God reached down, removed the middle breast and tossed it into the bushes. Three weeks passed and God once again visited Eve in the Garden of Eden. “Well, Eve, how is my favorite creation?" "Just fantastic," she replied, "But for one oversight on your part. You see, all the animals are paired off. The ewe has a ram, and the cow has her bull. All the animals have a mate except me. I feel so alone." God thought for a moment and said, "You know, Eve, you are right. How could I have overlooked this? You do need a mate and I will immediately create a man from a part of you. Now let's see... where did I put that useless boob?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111466126704515644?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111466126704515644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111466126704515644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111466126704515644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111466126704515644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/04/after-three-weeks-in-garden-of-eden.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-111008615412280083</id><published>2005-03-06T00:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T00:15:54.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>OK, this one isn't technically a joke, but I got some laughs out of it, hope you will too.&lt;br /&gt;There are only eleven times in history where the "F" word has been considered acceptable for use ... they are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;11. "What the @#$% do you mean we are sinking?" Capt. E.J. Smith of RMS Titanic, 1912&lt;br /&gt;10. "What the @#$% was that?" - Mayor Of Hiroshima, 1945&lt;br /&gt;9. "Where did all those @#$%ing Indians come from?" - Custer, 1877&lt;br /&gt;8. "Any @#$%ing idiot could understand that." Einstein, 1938&lt;br /&gt;7. "It does so @#$%ing look like her!" - Picasso, 1926&lt;br /&gt;6. "How the @#$% did you work that out?" Pythagoras, 126 BC&lt;br /&gt;5. "You want WHAT on the @#$%ing ceiling?" Michelangelo, 1566&lt;br /&gt;4. "Where the @#$% are we?" - Amelia Earhart, 1937&lt;br /&gt;3. "Scattered @#$%ing showers....My ass!" - Noah, 4314 BC&lt;br /&gt;2. "Aw c'mon. Who the @#$% is going to find out?" -Bill Clinton, 1999&lt;br /&gt;and a drum roll....................&lt;br /&gt;1. "Geez, I didn't think they'd get this @%#*^ing mad." Osama Bin Laden, 2001&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-111008615412280083?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/111008615412280083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=111008615412280083' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111008615412280083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/111008615412280083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/03/ok-this-one-isnt-technically-joke-but.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110982574947118117</id><published>2005-03-02T23:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T23:55:49.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A husband took his wife to play her first round of golf. Nervous, the wife promptly hacked her first shot right through the window of the largest house adjacent to the course. The husband cringed, "I warned you to be careful! Now we'll have to go up there, find the owner, apologize and see how much your lousy drive is going to cost us." So the couple walked up to the house and knocked on the door. A warm voice said, "Come on in." When they opened the door they saw the damage that was done: glass was all over the place, and a broken antique lamp was lying on its side near the broken window. A man reclining on the couch asked, "Are you the people that broke my window?" "Uh...yeah, sir. We're sure sorry about that," the husband replied. "Oh, no apology is necessary. Actually I want to thank you. You see, I'm a genie, and I've been trapped in that lamp for a thousand years. Now that you've released me, I'm allowed to grant three wishes. I'll give you each one wish, but if you don't mind, I'll keep the last one for myself." "Wow, that's great!" the husband said. He pondered a moment and blurted out, "I'd like a million dollars a year for the rest of my life." "No problem," said the genie. "You've got it, it's the least I can do. And I'll guarantee you a long, healthy life! And now you, young lady, what do you want?" the genie asked. "I'd like to own a gorgeous home complete with servants in every country in the world," she said. "Consider it done," the genie said. "And your homes will always be safe from fire, burglary and natural disasters!" "And now," the couple asked in unison, what's your wish, genie?" "Well, since I've been trapped in that lamp and haven't been with a woman in more than a thousand years, my wish is to have sex with your wife." The husband looked at his wife and said, "Gee, honey, you know we both now have a fortune, and all those houses. What do you think?" She mulled it over for a few moments and said, "You know, you're right. Considering our good fortune, I guess I wouldn't mind, but what about you, honey?" "You know I love you sweetheart," said the husband. I'd do the same for you!" So the genie and the woman went upstairs where they spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other. After about three hours of non-stop sex, the genie rolled over and looked directly into her eyes and asked, "How old are you and your husband?" "Why, we're both 35," she responded breathlessly. " No kidding," he said, "Thirty-five years old and both of you still believe in genies?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110982574947118117?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110982574947118117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110982574947118117' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110982574947118117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110982574947118117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/03/husband-took-his-wife-to-play-her.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110957200797089373</id><published>2005-02-28T01:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T01:29:26.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A guy named Bob finds himself in dire trouble. His business has gone under and he's in serious financial trouble. He's so desperate he decides to ask God for help. He begins to pray..."God, please help me. I've lost my business and if I don't get some money, I'm going to lose my house as well. Please let me win the lottery." Lottery night comes and somebody else wins it. Bob again prays..."God, please let me win the lottery! I've lost my business, my house and I'm going to lose my car as well". Lotto night comes and Bob still has no luck. Once again, he prays..."My God, why have you forsaken me?? I've lost my business, my house, and my car. My wife and children are starving. I don't often ask you for help and I have always been a good person. PLEASE just let me win the lottery this one time so I can get my life back in order." Suddenly there is a blinding flash of light as the heavens open and Bob is confronted by the voice of God Himself: "Bob, meet Me halfway on this. Buy a ticket."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110957200797089373?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110957200797089373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110957200797089373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110957200797089373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110957200797089373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/guy-named-bob-finds-himself-in-dire.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110939967206029158</id><published>2005-02-26T01:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T01:36:02.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fred, George and Erma all lived next door to each other and were always sharing advice. Since George and Erma knew Fred was a master gardener one summer they both decided to plant vegetable gardens so they would have something else to talk about. George and Erma both worked hard in their back yards for days getting the soil ready and planting vegetables, Fred was very impressed by their efforts. Summer rolled on thru and the veggies were growing great, but no matter how long they waited, neither George or Erma's tomatos ripened. The three of them were standing around talking one day about the tomato problems. Fred said to them "I'll tell you what you do. Late tonight, go out in your gardens wearing nothing but your bathrobe. Stand in front of your tomatos, open your robe and flash them and the next day they will ripen." Well the whole idea sounded silly to George and Erma both, but they decided, Hey, Fred's a master gardener so why not try it. The night passed and they both went and did as Fred told them. The next afternoon they were all three talking again when Fred asked "Well did your tomatos ripen George?" "They sure did Fred, thanks" said George. Fred turned to Erma and asked "What about your Erma, did you flash your tomatos?" "I sure did Fred" replied Erma. Fred then asked "Did they ripen like I said?" Erma replied, "No my tomatos didn't ripen. But my cucumbers grew six inches!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110939967206029158?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110939967206029158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110939967206029158' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110939967206029158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110939967206029158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/fred-george-and-erma-all-lived-next.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110930651636776610</id><published>2005-02-24T23:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T23:41:56.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man was having problems in the bedroom so he went to his doctor. His doctor gave him a prescription for Viagra with very specific instructions to only take one a day as needed. The man went home, took one that night and he and his wife had the best sex in months. The next night rolled around, he took another pill and again had wonderful sex. He got to thinking the next day and decided that if one was good, two would be even better. So that night he took two pills and drove his wife almost to exhaustion with sex. The next day he decided to try three pills. He had a wonderful time that night but the sex made his wife pass out for an hour or so. A couple of days passed and late one night a 911 operator got a call from a little boy that sounded very scared. When the operator asked what was wrong the boy said "somethings wrong with my daddy!" "What's wrong with him?" the operator asked. "Well a doctor gave him some pills to help him and mommy in the bedroom and I think he took too many!" the little boy told her. The operator asked "What makes you think that?" The boy replied "Well my mom's dead, my sister's pregnant, my butt hurts and dad's out in the yard calling "Here kitty kitty!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110930651636776610?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110930651636776610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110930651636776610' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110930651636776610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110930651636776610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/man-was-having-problems-in-bedroom-so.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110905416200740373</id><published>2005-02-22T01:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T01:36:02.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A blonde and a brunette are running a ranch together in Louisiana. They decided they need a bull to mate with their cows in order to increase the herd so the brunette takes their entire savings of $600 and goes to Texas to buy a bull. She eventually meets with an old cowboy that will sell her one. "It's the only one I got, but I'll sell it for $599. Take it or leaveit," he tells her. So she buys it and goes straight to the local telegram office. She tells the clerk, "I'd like to send a telegram to my friend in Louisiana that says: 'Have found the bull for our ranch, bring the trailer.' How much will that cost?" The man behind the counter tells her, "Telegrams to anywhere in theU.S. are $.75 per word." She looks at her last dollar, thinks about it for a minute, and replies, "In that case, I'd like to send one word, please." "And what word would that be?" asks the clerk. " 'Comfortable.' " the brunette tells him. Out of curiosity, the man asks, "I'm sorry miss, but how is your friend gonna understand this telegram?" The brunette replies, "My friend is blonde and reads REALLY slow. When she gets this, she'll read, 'COM-FOR-DA-BULL.' "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110905416200740373?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110905416200740373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110905416200740373' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110905416200740373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110905416200740373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/blonde-and-brunette-are-running-ranch.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110870156334466205</id><published>2005-02-17T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T23:39:23.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There was a nun whose worn out body began to surrender. Her doctor prescribed for her a shot of whiskey three times a day to relax her. Not to be lured into "worldly pleasures", she huffily declined. But the Mother Superior knew the elderly sister loved milk. So she instructed the kitchen to spike the milk three times a day. After a few more years, even that spiked milk couldn't help and the aged sister approached her final hour. As several nuns gathered around her at her bedside, the Mother Superior asked if she wanted to leave them with any words of wisdom. "Oh, yes," she replied. "Never sell that cow!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110870156334466205?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110870156334466205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110870156334466205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110870156334466205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110870156334466205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/there-was-nun-whose-worn-out-body.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110870117443761299</id><published>2005-02-17T23:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T23:32:54.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A stock broker, on his way home from work in NY City, came to a dead halt in traffic and thought to himself, "Wow, this traffic seems worse than usual. Nothing's even moving." He notices a police officer walking back and forth between the lines of cars, so he rolls down his window and asks, "Officer what's the hold up?" The officer replies, "Hillary Clinton is so depressed about all the New Yorkers making her the butt of so many jokes, she stopped her motorcade in the middle of the freeway and she's threatening to douse herself in gasoline and set herself on fire. She says her husband is running around on her more than ever, and the Democrats told her to forget about the presidency in 2008. So we're taking up a collection for her." The broker asks, "Oh really? How much have you got so far?" The officer replies, "About 4 gallons, but a lot of folks are still siphoning."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110870117443761299?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110870117443761299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110870117443761299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110870117443761299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110870117443761299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/stock-broker-on-his-way-home-from-work.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110870096976197638</id><published>2005-02-17T23:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T23:29:29.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Three retirees, each with a hearing loss, were playing golf one fine March day. One remarked to the other, "Windy, isn't it?" "No," the second man replied, "it's Thursday." And the third man chimed in, "So am I. Let's have a beer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110870096976197638?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110870096976197638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110870096976197638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110870096976197638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110870096976197638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/three-retirees-each-with-hearing-loss.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110852877173280932</id><published>2005-02-15T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T23:39:31.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>George W. Bush and Bill Clinton somehow ended up at  the same barbershop. As they sat there, each being worked on by a different barber, not a  word was spoken. The barbers were both afraid to start a conversation for fear it would turn to politics. As the barbers finished their shaves, the one who had Clinton in his chair reached for the after shave. Clinton was quick to stop him saying, "No thanks, my wife Hillary will smell that and think I've been in a whorehouse." The second barber turned to Bush and said, "How  about you?" Bush replied, "Go ahead, my wife has no idea what  the inside of a whorehouse smells like."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110852877173280932?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110852877173280932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110852877173280932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110852877173280932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110852877173280932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/george-w.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110827258442250101</id><published>2005-02-13T00:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T00:29:44.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The judge says to a double-murder defendant, "You're charged with beating your wife to death with a hammer." A voice at the back of the courtroom yells out, "Why, you bastard!" The judge says, "You're also charged with beating your mother-in-law to death with a hammer." The voice in the back of the courtroom yells out, "Why, you bastard!" The judge stops and says to the guy in the back of the courtroom, "Sir, I can understand your anger and frustration at this crime. But no more outbursts from you, or I'll charge you with contempt.  Is that understood?" The guy in the back of the court stands up and says, "I'm sorry, your Honor, but for 15 years I've lived next door to that bastard, and every time I asked to borrow a hammer, he said he didn't have one!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110827258442250101?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110827258442250101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110827258442250101' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110827258442250101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110827258442250101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/judge-says-to-double-murder-defendant.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110818430324763792</id><published>2005-02-11T23:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-11T23:59:20.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A woman was having a passionate affair with an exterminator from a pest-control company. One afternoon they were getting hot and heavy in the bedroom together when her husband arrived home unexpectedly. "Quick," said the woman to her lover, "into the closet!" She closed him up in the closet stark naked. The husband, however, became suspicious and after he searched the bedroom he found the man in the closet. "Who are you?" he demanded. "I'm an exterminator from Pests-B-Gone," said the man. "What are you doing in there?" the husband asked him. "I'm investigating a complaint about some moths," the man replied. "And where are your clothes?" asked the husband. The man looked down at himself and then said, "Those sneaky bastards!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110818430324763792?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110818430324763792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110818430324763792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110818430324763792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110818430324763792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/woman-was-having-passionate-affair.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110808596672738458</id><published>2005-02-10T20:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T20:39:26.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>OK, this one's a little dated, but a friend just told it to me a couple of days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saddam Hussein was sitting in his office wondering who he was going to invade next when his telephone rang. "Hello Mr. Hussein!" a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy up in County Cork, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!" "Well, Paddy," Saddam replied, "this is indeed important news! Tell me, how big is your army?" "At this time," said Paddy after a moment's calculation, "there is myself, my cousin Sean, my next door neighbor Ian, and the entire darts team from the pub -- that makes eight!" Letting out a sigh, Saddam said "I must tell you Paddy that I have a million men in my army waiting to move on my command." "Begorrah!" said Paddy, "I'll have to ring you back!" Sure enough, the next day Paddy rang back. "Right Mr. Hussein, the war is still on! We have managed to acquire some equipment!" "And what equipment would that be, Paddy?" Saddam asked. "Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer and Ian's tractor from the farm." Once more Saddam sighed. "I must tell you Paddy, I have fifteen thousand tanks, thirteen thousand armored personnel carriers, and my army has increased by a million men since we last spoke." "Really?" said Paddy, "I'll have to ring you back!" Sure enough, Paddy called again the next day. "Right Mr. Hussein, I am sorry to tell you that we have had to call off the war." "I'm disapointed to hear that," said Saddam. "Why the sudden change of heart?" "Well," said Paddy "We've had a look at the Geneva Convention, all had a chat, and decided there's no way we can feed two million prisoners."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110808596672738458?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110808596672738458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110808596672738458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110808596672738458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110808596672738458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/ok-this-ones-little-dated-but-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110808497227142555</id><published>2005-02-10T20:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T20:24:05.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man was on trial for murder. There was strong evidence indicating guilt, but there was no body. In the defense's closing statement the lawyer, knowing that his client would probably be convicted, resorted to a trick. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have a surprise for you all," the lawyer said as he looked at his watch. "Within one minute, the person presumed dead in this case will walk into this courtroom." Then he looked toward the courtroom door. The jurors, somewhat stunned, all looked on eagerly. A minute passed but nothing happened. Finally the lawyer said, "Actually, I made up the previous statement. But all of you looked on with anticipation. I therefore put it to you that you have a reasonable doubt in this case as to whether anyone was killed and insist that you return a verdict of not guilty." The obviously confused jury retired to deliberate. A few minutes later, the jury returned and pronounced a verdict of guilty. "But how?" inquired the lawyer. "You must have had some doubt; I saw all of you stare at the door." The jury foreman replied "Oh, we did look, but your client didn't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110808497227142555?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110808497227142555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110808497227142555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110808497227142555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110808497227142555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/man-was-on-trial-for-murder.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110766734901335171</id><published>2005-02-06T01:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T00:22:29.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One day the 1st grade teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class. She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to accumulate the building materials for his house.She read, "...And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said,"Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?'" The teacher paused then asked the class, "And what do you think that man said?" One little boy raised his hand and said, "I know. He said, Holy crap! A talking pig!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110766734901335171?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110766734901335171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110766734901335171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110766734901335171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110766734901335171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/one-day-1st-grade-teacher-was-reading.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110766672860931994</id><published>2005-02-06T01:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T00:12:08.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A young mother was almost crazy with stress because of her three young kids. She complained to her best friend, "They're driving me nuts! Such brats! They give me no rest and I'm half way to the funny farm!" "What you need is a playpen to separate the kids from yourself," the friend told her. So she bought a playpen. A few days after that, her friend called to ask how she was. "Terrific! I can't believe it," the young mother said. "I get in that pen with a good book, some candy bars, and the kids don't bug me for hours!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110766672860931994?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110766672860931994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110766672860931994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110766672860931994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110766672860931994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/young-mother-was-almost-crazy-with.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110766641599113096</id><published>2005-02-06T01:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T00:06:55.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>During World War II a captain was attempting to rally his troops on the eve of a big offensive. "Out there," said the captain, "is your enemy. The man who has made your lives miserable, who is working to destroy you; the man who has been trying to all of you day after day throughout the war." Private Johnson jumped to his feet, yelling out "My God; the cook's working for the Germans!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110766641599113096?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110766641599113096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110766641599113096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110766641599113096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110766641599113096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/during-world-war-ii-captain-was.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110762585790135578</id><published>2005-02-05T13:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-05T12:50:57.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>During the ancient history of Japan, there was a powerful emperor who needed a new chief samurai. So he sent notice throughout the land that he was searching for one. A year passed, and only 3 people showed up: A Japanese samurai, a Chinese Samurai and a Jewish samurai. The emperor asked each to demonstrate why he should be the chief samurai. The Japanese samurai opened a match box and out flew a bumblebee. Whoosh! went his sword, and the bumblebee dropped to the ground in two pieces. "Impressive," the emperor exclaimed. Next the Chinese samurai stepped up, opened a match box and out buzzed a fly. Whoosh! Whoosh! went his sword, and the fly dropped to the ground in four pieces. "That's most impressive," the emperor exclaimed. Now the emperor turned to the Jewish samurai. He also opened a match box, and out flew a very small gnat. His flashing sword went Whoosh! ... Whoosh! but the gnat was still alive and flying around. The emperor, obviously disappointed, asked, "After all that, why isn't the gnat dead?" The Jewish samurai just smiled and said, "Circumcision is not meant to kill."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110762585790135578?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110762585790135578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110762585790135578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110762585790135578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110762585790135578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/during-ancient-history-of-japan-there.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10518702.post-110745269752298775</id><published>2005-02-03T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-03T12:44:57.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Little Melissa comes home from first grade and tells her father that they learned about the history of Christmas. "Since Christmas is for Christians and we're Jewish," she asks,  "will God get mad at me for giving someone a Christmas card?" Melissa's father thinks a bit, and then says, "No, I don't think God would get mad. Who do you want to give a Christmas card to?"&lt;br /&gt;"Osama Bin Laden," she says. "Why Osama Bin Laden," her father asks in shock? "Well", she says, "I thought that if a little American Jewish girl could have enough love to give Osama a card, he might start to think that maybe we're not all bad, and maybe start loving people a little bit. And if other kids saw what I did and sent cards to Osama, he'd love everyone a lot. And then he'd start going all over the place to tell everyone how much he loved them and how he didn't hate anyone anymore." Her father's heart swells and he looks at his daughter with newfound pride. "Melissa, that's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard." "I know," Melissa says, "and once that gets him out in the open, the Marines could blow the shit out of him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10518702-110745269752298775?l=dailyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/110745269752298775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10518702&amp;postID=110745269752298775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110745269752298775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10518702/posts/default/110745269752298775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailyjoke.blogspot.com/2005/02/little-melissa-comes-home-from-first.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04384686603101546413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
