<?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-7408554811254643056</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:41:38.144-08:00</updated><category term='Ooops'/><category term='Hits'/><category term='Funny'/><title type='text'>Funny Jokes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>129</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-6717784521348859621</id><published>2007-06-08T02:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T02:28:30.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>asf</title><content type='html'>a as&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-6717784521348859621?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6717784521348859621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=6717784521348859621' title='40 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6717784521348859621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6717784521348859621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/asf.html' title='asf'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>40</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-4272944941085864258</id><published>2007-06-04T04:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T01:52:35.403-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny'/><title type='text'>No One Believe Seniors</title><content type='html'>No one believes seniors . . . everyone thinks they are senile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Elderly couple were celebrating their sixtieth anniversary. The&lt;br /&gt;couple had married as childhood sweethearts and had moved back to their&lt;br /&gt;old neighborhood after they retired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding hands they walked back to their old school. It was not locked,&lt;br /&gt;so they entered, and found the old desk they'd shared, where Andy had&lt;br /&gt;carved "I love you, Sally."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On their way back home, a bag of money fell out of an armored car,&lt;br /&gt;practically landing at their feet. Sally quickly picked it up, but not&lt;br /&gt;sure what to do with it, they took it home. There, she counted the&lt;br /&gt;money--fifty-thousand dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy said, "We've got to give it back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sally said, "Finders keepers." She put the money back in the bag and hid&lt;br /&gt;it in their attic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, two FBI men were canvassing the neighborhood looking for&lt;br /&gt;the money, and knock on the door. "Pardon me, but did either of you find&lt;br /&gt;a money bag that fell out of an armored car yesterday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sally said, "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy said, "She's lying. She hid it up in the attic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sally said, "Don't believe him, he's getting senile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The agents turn to Andy and began to question him. One says: "Tell us&lt;br /&gt;the story from the beginning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy said, "Well, when Sally and I were walking home from school&lt;br /&gt;yesterday . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first FBI guy turns to his partner and says, "We're outta here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-4272944941085864258?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4272944941085864258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=4272944941085864258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4272944941085864258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4272944941085864258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-one-believe-seniors.html' title='No One Believe Seniors'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7319940508755879345</id><published>2007-06-04T04:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T04:04:52.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How To KNow You Growing Older</title><content type='html'>1. Everything hurts, and what doesn't hurt, doesn't work. &lt;br /&gt;2. Your little black book contains only names ending in M.D. &lt;br /&gt;3. You get winded playing chess. &lt;br /&gt;4. You're still chasing women, but don't remember why. &lt;br /&gt;5. You look forward to a dull evening. &lt;br /&gt;6. You turn out the light for economic rather then romantic &lt;br /&gt;reasons. &lt;br /&gt;7. You sit in a rocking chair and can't get it going. &lt;br /&gt;8. Your knees buckle and your belt won't. &lt;br /&gt;9. Dailing long distance wears you out. &lt;br /&gt;10. Your back goes out more than you do. &lt;br /&gt;11. Your pacemaker makes the garage door go up when you watch a &lt;br /&gt;pretty girl go by. &lt;br /&gt;12. You sink youe teeth into a steak and they stay there. &lt;br /&gt;13. A fortune teller offers to read your face. &lt;br /&gt;14. You got to much room in the house and not enough in the medicine &lt;br /&gt;cabinet. &lt;br /&gt;15. Your children look middle aged. &lt;br /&gt;16. You regret all those mistakes resisting temptation. &lt;br /&gt;17. You know all the answers, but nobody asks you the questions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7319940508755879345?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7319940508755879345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7319940508755879345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7319940508755879345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7319940508755879345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/how-to-know-you-growing-older.html' title='How To KNow You Growing Older'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1885843618909051828</id><published>2007-06-04T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T01:54:00.191-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hits'/><title type='text'>Some of the myths about marriage...</title><content type='html'>Husband and wife are getting all snugly in bed. Their passion is&lt;br /&gt;heating up. Then the wife stops and says: "I don't feel like it, I just&lt;br /&gt;want you to hold me." The husband says: "WHAT??" The wife explains that&lt;br /&gt;he must not be in tune&lt;br /&gt;with her emotional needs as a Woman. The husband realizes that nothing&lt;br /&gt;is going to happen and he might as well deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next day the husband takes her shopping at a big dept store. He&lt;br /&gt;walks around and has her try on three very expensive outfits. She can't&lt;br /&gt;decide. He tells his wife to take all three of them. Then they go over&lt;br /&gt;and get matching shoes worth $200 each. And then they go to the Jewelry&lt;br /&gt;Dept. where she gets a set of diamond ear rings. His wife is so&lt;br /&gt;excited. She thinks her husband has flipped out but she does not care.&lt;br /&gt;She goes for the tennis bracelet. The husband says: "But you don't even&lt;br /&gt;play tennis, but OK if you like it then let's get it." The wife is&lt;br /&gt;jumping up and&lt;br /&gt;down so excited she cannot even believe what is going on. She says: "I&lt;br /&gt;am ready to go, lets go to the cash register."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband says: "No - no - no, honey we're not going to buy all this&lt;br /&gt;stuff." The wife's face goes blank. "No honey. I just want you to HOLD&lt;br /&gt;this stuff for a while." Her face gets really mad and she is about to&lt;br /&gt;explode and the Husband says: "You must not be in tune with my&lt;br /&gt;financial needs as a Man!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1885843618909051828?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1885843618909051828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1885843618909051828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1885843618909051828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1885843618909051828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/some-of-myths-about-marriage.html' title='Some of the myths about marriage...'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-158443028472738210</id><published>2007-06-04T04:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T04:02:56.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knockout</title><content type='html'>There was this little guy sitting in a bar, drinking his beer, minding&lt;br /&gt;his own business when all of a sudden this great big dude comes in and&lt;br /&gt;-- WHACK!! -- knocks him off the bar stool and onto the floor. The big&lt;br /&gt;dude says, "That was a karate chop from Korea." The little guy thinks&lt;br /&gt;"GEEZ," but he gets back up on the stool and starts drinking again when&lt;br /&gt;all of a sudden -- WHACK!! -- the big dude knocks him down AGAIN and&lt;br /&gt;says, "That was a judo chop from Japan." So the little guy has had&lt;br /&gt;enough of this... He gets up, brushes himself off and quietly leaves.&lt;br /&gt;The little guy is gone for an hour or so when he returned. Without&lt;br /&gt;saying a word, he walks up behind the big dude and -- WHAM!!!" --&lt;br /&gt;knocks the big dude off his stool, knocking him out cold!!! The little&lt;br /&gt;guy looks at the bartender and says, "When he gets up, tell him that's&lt;br /&gt;a crowbar from Sears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-158443028472738210?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/158443028472738210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=158443028472738210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/158443028472738210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/158443028472738210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/knockout.html' title='Knockout'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-6746473930976092161</id><published>2007-06-04T03:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T04:00:53.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Letter To My Dogs &amp; Cats</title><content type='html'>Dear Dogs and Cats,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate of food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years - canine or feline attendance is not mandatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Like to Complain About Our Pets:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. They live here. You don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture (That's why they call it "fur"niture.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I like my pets a lot better than most people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogs and cats are better than kids .they eat less, don't ask for money all the time, are easier to train, usually come when called, never drive your car, don't hang out with drug-using friends, don't smoke or drink, don't worry about having to buy the latest fashions, don't wear your clothes, and don't need a gazillion dollars for college - and if they get pregnant, you can sell their children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-6746473930976092161?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6746473930976092161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=6746473930976092161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6746473930976092161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6746473930976092161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/letter-to-my-dogs-cats.html' title='A Letter To My Dogs &amp; Cats'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5189770624270459271</id><published>2007-06-04T03:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T01:56:40.777-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ooops'/><title type='text'>The New Young Doctor</title><content type='html'>A young doctor moved out to a small community to replace the aging &lt;br /&gt;doctor there. The older doctor suggested that the younger doctor &lt;br /&gt;accompany him as he made his house calls so that the people of the &lt;br /&gt;community could get to know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the first house they visited, the younger doctor listened &lt;br /&gt;intently as the older doctor and an older lady discussed the &lt;br /&gt;weather, their grandchildren and the latest church bulletin. After &lt;br /&gt;some time, the older doctor asked his patient how she had been &lt;br /&gt;feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've been a little sick to my stomach," she replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said the older physician, "you've probably been over doing &lt;br /&gt;it a bit with the fresh fruit. Why don't you cut back on the amount &lt;br /&gt;of fresh fruit you eat and see if that helps."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they left the house, the younger doctor asked how the older &lt;br /&gt;doctor had reached his diagnosis so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You didn't even examine that woman," the younger doctor stated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't have to," the elder physician explain. "You noticed I &lt;br /&gt;dropped my stethoscope on the floor in there. Well when I bent over &lt;br /&gt;to pick it up, I looked around and noticed a half dozen banana peels &lt;br /&gt;in the trash can. That is probably what has been making her ill."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's pretty sneaky," commented the younger doctor. "Do you mind &lt;br /&gt;if I try it at the next house?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't suppose it could hurt anything," the elder physician &lt;br /&gt;replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the next house, the two doctors visited with a widow. They spent &lt;br /&gt;several minutes discussing the weather and grandchildren and the &lt;br /&gt;latest church bulletin. After several minutes, the younger doctor &lt;br /&gt;asked the widow how she had been feeling lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've felt terribly run down lately," the widow replied. "I just &lt;br /&gt;don't have as much energy as I used to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've probably been doing too much volunteer work for the church," &lt;br /&gt;the younger doctor suggested without even examining his &lt;br /&gt;patient. "Perhaps you should ease up a bit and see if that helps."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they left, the elder physician said, "Your diagnosis is probably &lt;br /&gt;correct, but do you mind telling me how you came to that conclusion?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," replied the younger doctor. "Just like you, I dropped my &lt;br /&gt;stethoscope on the floor. When I bent down to pick it up, I looked &lt;br /&gt;around and saw the preacher hiding under the bed!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5189770624270459271?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5189770624270459271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5189770624270459271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5189770624270459271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5189770624270459271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/new-young-doctor.html' title='The New Young Doctor'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-4374686788953960080</id><published>2007-06-04T03:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:55:08.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Dry!</title><content type='html'>Colonel: "Sir, a letter was just sent to us reporting a severe water &lt;br /&gt;shortage at Company Charlie!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;General: "Oh, they're probably just exaggerating."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colonel: "I don't think so, sir. The stamp was held on with a paper &lt;br /&gt;clip!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-4374686788953960080?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4374686788953960080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=4374686788953960080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4374686788953960080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4374686788953960080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/very-dry.html' title='Very Dry!'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-6459075625191085350</id><published>2007-06-04T03:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:54:36.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hate Your Job?</title><content type='html'>Try this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On your way home from work, stop at a pharmacy and purchase a rectal thermometer made by Johnson &amp; Johnson. Be very sure to get this brand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you get home, lock your doors, close the blinds and take the phone off the hook so you will not be disturbed. Change into very comfortable clothing and sit in your favorite chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open the package and remove the thermometer. Now, carefully place it on a table or a surface so that it will not become chipped or broken. Take out the literature and read it carefully. You will notice that in small print there is a statement....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every Rectal Thermometer made by Johnson &amp; Johnson is personally tested."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, close your eyes and repeat out loud five times, "I am soooo glad I do not work in the thermometer quality control at Johnson &amp; Johnson."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-6459075625191085350?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6459075625191085350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=6459075625191085350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6459075625191085350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6459075625191085350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/hate-your-job.html' title='Hate Your Job?'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-4990762766806567950</id><published>2007-06-04T03:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:53:07.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pedro And Maria</title><content type='html'>Pedro and Maria got married. Pedro was a "man about town" so to speak,&lt;br /&gt;but Maria was very naive and uninformed about the birds and the bees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro was a poor working man and could not afford to take time off for a&lt;br /&gt;honeymoon. So, that night they retired to his little shack.  When Pedro&lt;br /&gt;was undressing Maria said, "Oh Pedro, what is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro being very quick thinking said, "Maria, I am the only man in the&lt;br /&gt;world with one of these."  And then proceeded to show her what it was&lt;br /&gt;for, and Maria was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Pedro went off to work as usual. When he returned home&lt;br /&gt;that evening Maria was on the front porch obviously upset about something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pedro, you told me that you were the only man in the world with one of&lt;br /&gt;those, and I saw Gonzalez the gardener changing his clothes behind the&lt;br /&gt;shed, and he had one, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking fast Pedro said, "Oh, Maria, Gonzalez is my very best friend.&lt;br /&gt;I had two of them so I gave him one.  He is the only other man in the&lt;br /&gt;world with one of those."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marie being very stupid accepted his answer and they did their thing&lt;br /&gt;again that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro went off to work again the next morning and when he returned home&lt;br /&gt;Maria was very upset, stamping her foot on the porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro said, "Maria, what is the matter now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pedro, you gave Gonzalez the best one!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-4990762766806567950?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4990762766806567950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=4990762766806567950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4990762766806567950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4990762766806567950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/pedro-and-maria.html' title='Pedro And Maria'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8643916220778397414</id><published>2007-06-04T03:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:51:54.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing Gas</title><content type='html'>An elderly couple was attending church services when&lt;br /&gt;about halfway through she leans over and says to him,&lt;br /&gt;"I just had a silent passing of gas, what do you think&lt;br /&gt;I should do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leans over to her and replies, "Put a new battery&lt;br /&gt;in your hearing aid..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8643916220778397414?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8643916220778397414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8643916220778397414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8643916220778397414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8643916220778397414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/passing-gas.html' title='Passing Gas'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3770112136913476225</id><published>2007-06-04T03:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:51:08.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pig Apples</title><content type='html'>This guy was sittin' out on his porch. Up the way, he saw his &lt;br /&gt;hillbilly neighbor holding up one of his pigs in an apple tree. The &lt;br /&gt;pig was eating the apples. Whenever the pig got full, he sat him &lt;br /&gt;down and got another... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the guy walks over and says "Thats mighty good natured of &lt;br /&gt;you, but ain't that a terrible waste of time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hillbilly replies: "Well, what's time to a pig?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3770112136913476225?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3770112136913476225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3770112136913476225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3770112136913476225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3770112136913476225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/pig-apples.html' title='Pig Apples'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1082990046421196767</id><published>2007-06-04T03:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:50:17.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Please</title><content type='html'>Did you hear about the guy on the beach who found a bottle? Of course,&lt;br /&gt;he rubbed it and, sure enough, out popped a Genie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will grant you three wishes," said the Genie. "But there's a catch.&lt;br /&gt;Every time you make a wish, every politician in the world will receive&lt;br /&gt;DOUBLE what you asked for."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I can live with that!" replied the elated man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is your first wish?" asked the Genie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I've always wanted a Ferrari! " A Ferrari appeared in front of&lt;br /&gt;the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now every politician in the world has two Ferrari's," said the Genie.&lt;br /&gt;"Next wish?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd love a million dollars..." replied the man, and a million dollars&lt;br /&gt;appeared at his feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now every politician in the world has two million dollars," said the&lt;br /&gt;Genie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's okay, as long as I've got MY million," replied the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is your final wish?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thought and thought and thought and finally said, "Well, you&lt;br /&gt;know, I've always wanted to donate a kidney...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1082990046421196767?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1082990046421196767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1082990046421196767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1082990046421196767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1082990046421196767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/double-please.html' title='Double Please'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1657856750362985485</id><published>2007-06-04T03:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:49:00.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Time?</title><content type='html'>A man had been driving all night and by morning was still far from &lt;br /&gt;his destination. He decided to stop at the next city he came to and &lt;br /&gt;park somewhere quiet so he could get an hour or two of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As luck would have it, the quiet street he chose happened to be one &lt;br /&gt;of the city's most popular jogging routes. No sooner had he settled &lt;br /&gt;back to snooze when there came a knocking on his window. He looked &lt;br /&gt;out and saw a jogger running in place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me, sir," the jogger said, "do you have the time?" The man &lt;br /&gt;looked at the car clock and answered, "7:15."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The jogger said thanks and left. The man settled back again, and was &lt;br /&gt;just dozing off when there was another knock on the window and &lt;br /&gt;another jogger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me, sir, do you have the time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"7:25!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The jogger said thanks and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the man could see other joggers passing by and he knew it was &lt;br /&gt;only a matter of time before another one disturbed him. To avoid the &lt;br /&gt;problem, he got out a pen and paper and put a sign in his window &lt;br /&gt;saying, "I do not know the time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again he settled back to sleep. He was just dozing off when &lt;br /&gt;there was another knock on the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, sir? It's 7:45!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1657856750362985485?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1657856750362985485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1657856750362985485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1657856750362985485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1657856750362985485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-time.html' title='What Time?'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-676921285424516377</id><published>2007-06-04T03:46:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:47:01.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pilot Affair</title><content type='html'>A husband suspects his wife is having an affair with a pilot but &lt;br /&gt;she keeps denying it until finally the husband just knew when &lt;br /&gt;his wife said: &lt;br /&gt;Honey, I've told you once, I've told you twice, I've told &lt;br /&gt;you niner thousand times, negative on the affair ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-676921285424516377?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/676921285424516377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=676921285424516377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/676921285424516377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/676921285424516377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/pilot-affair.html' title='Pilot Affair'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7075515558190629904</id><published>2007-06-04T03:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:46:13.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sausage Factory</title><content type='html'>There once was a man who owned a sausage factory, and he was showing his arrogant preppy son around his factory.&lt;br /&gt;Try as he might to impress his snobbish son, his son would just sneer.&lt;br /&gt;They approached the heart of the factory, where the father thought, "This should impress him!"&lt;br /&gt;He showed his son a machine and said "Son, this is the heart of the factory. With this machine here we can put in a pig, and out come sausages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prudish son, unimpressed, said "Yes, but do you have a machine where you can put in a sausage and out comes a pig?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father, furious, thought and said, "Yes son, we call it your mother."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7075515558190629904?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7075515558190629904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7075515558190629904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7075515558190629904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7075515558190629904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/sausage-factory.html' title='Sausage Factory'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7158076065871735816</id><published>2007-06-04T03:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:44:38.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Ex</title><content type='html'>A married couple was sitting in a fine restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband kept looking over at a nearby table where a lady had &lt;br /&gt;obviously had too much to drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife asks "I notice you've been watching that lady for some time &lt;br /&gt;now. Do you know her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes" he replies, "she's my ex-wife. She has been drinking like that &lt;br /&gt;since I left her seven years ago."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's unbelievable" the wife replies. "I wouldn't think anybody &lt;br /&gt;could celebrate that long."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7158076065871735816?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7158076065871735816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7158076065871735816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7158076065871735816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7158076065871735816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-ex.html' title='My Ex'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2471491219855165954</id><published>2007-06-04T03:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:42:26.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Golfing Buddies</title><content type='html'>Joe: "Why don't you play golf with Bob any more?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike: "Would you play with someone who curses after each shot, &lt;br /&gt;cheats in the bunkers, makes noise while you putt and enters false &lt;br /&gt;scores on his card?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe: "No!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike: "Neither will Bob."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2471491219855165954?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2471491219855165954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2471491219855165954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2471491219855165954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2471491219855165954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/golfing-buddies.html' title='Golfing Buddies'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7091139211013962438</id><published>2007-06-04T03:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:41:04.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poker Demise</title><content type='html'>Six retired Floridians were playing poker in the condo clubhouse &lt;br /&gt;when Jim loses $500 on a single hand. He clutches his chest and &lt;br /&gt;drops dead at the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Showing respect for their fallen comrade, the other five continue &lt;br /&gt;the game standing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill looks around and asks, "So, who's gonna' tell Jim's wife?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They draw straws. Mark picks the short one. They tell him to be &lt;br /&gt;discreet, be gentle, don't make a bad situation any worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Discreet? I'm the most discreet man you will ever meet. Discretion &lt;br /&gt;is my middle name, leave it to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark goes over to Jim's apartment and knocks on the door. Jim's wife &lt;br /&gt;answers and asks what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark declares, "Your husband just lost $500 and is afraid to come &lt;br /&gt;home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He should be afraid! Tell him I said he can drop dead!" she yells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll go tell him."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7091139211013962438?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7091139211013962438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7091139211013962438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7091139211013962438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7091139211013962438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/poker-demise.html' title='Poker Demise'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2799710674652654647</id><published>2007-06-04T03:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:39:12.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost In Mall</title><content type='html'>A small boy was lost at a large shopping mall. He&lt;br /&gt;approached a uniformed policeman and said, "I've lost&lt;br /&gt;my Grandpa!" The cop asked, "What's he like?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy hesitated for a moment and then&lt;br /&gt;replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Crown Royal whiskey and women with big tits."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2799710674652654647?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2799710674652654647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2799710674652654647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2799710674652654647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2799710674652654647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/lost-in-mall.html' title='Lost In Mall'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2421216045750560982</id><published>2007-06-04T03:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:33:56.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curing Your Fears</title><content type='html'>Bob went to a psychiatrist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Doc," he said, "I've got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I &lt;br /&gt;think there`s somebody under it. You gotta help me, I'm going crazy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just put yourself in my hands for two years," said the &lt;br /&gt;shrink. "Come to me three times a week, and I'll cure your fears."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How much do you charge?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A hundred dollars per visit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll sleep on it," said Bob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six months later the doctor met Bob on the street. "Why didn't you &lt;br /&gt;ever come to see me again?" asked the psychiatrist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For a hundred bucks a visit? A bartender cured me for ten dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that so! How?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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/7408554811254643056-2421216045750560982?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2421216045750560982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2421216045750560982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2421216045750560982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2421216045750560982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/curing-your-fears.html' title='Curing Your Fears'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5826289260681271679</id><published>2007-06-04T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:33:04.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Psychiatrist and the Proctologist</title><content type='html'>Two doctors opened an office in a small town and put up a sign &lt;br /&gt;reading: "Dr. Smith and Dr. Jones, Psychiatry and Proctology."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The town council was not happy with the sign, so the doctors changed &lt;br /&gt;it to "Hysterias and Posteriors."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was not acceptable either, so in an effort to satisfy the &lt;br /&gt;council they changed the sign to "Schizoids and Hemorrhoids." No go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, they tried "Catatonics and High Colonics." down again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came "Manic Depressives and Anal Retentives." Still no good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another attempt resulted in "Minds and Behinds." Unacceptable again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Analysis and Anal Cysts?" Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nuts and ?" Uh uh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Freaks and Cheeks?" Still no go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Loons and Moons?" Forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost at their wit's end, the doctors finally came up with: "Dr &lt;br /&gt;Smith and Dr. Jones, Odds and Ends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone loved it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5826289260681271679?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5826289260681271679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5826289260681271679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5826289260681271679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5826289260681271679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/psychiatrist-and-proctologist.html' title='The Psychiatrist and the Proctologist'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5825898055824298393</id><published>2007-06-04T03:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:31:38.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sex Therapist</title><content type='html'>Two women had been having a friendly lunch when the subject turned to sex.&lt;br /&gt;"You know, John and I have been having some sexual problems", Linda told&lt;br /&gt;her friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's amazing!" Mary replied, "So have Tom and I. We're thinking of&lt;br /&gt;going to a sex therapist", said Linda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, we could never do that! We'd be too embarrassed!", responded Mary.&lt;br /&gt;"But after you go, will you please tell me how it went?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several weeks passed, and the two friends met for lunch again. "So how&lt;br /&gt;did the sex therapy work out, Linda?", Mary asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Things couldn't be better!", Linda exclaimed. "We began with a physical&lt;br /&gt;exam, and afterward the doctor said he was certain he could help us. He&lt;br /&gt;told us to stop at the grocery store on the way home and buy a bunch of&lt;br /&gt;grapes and a dozen donuts. He told us to sit on the floor nude, and toss&lt;br /&gt;the grapes and donuts at each other. Every grape that went into my&lt;br /&gt;vagina, John had to get it out with his tongue. Every donut that I&lt;br /&gt;ringed his penis with, I had to eat. Our sex life is wonderful,&lt;br /&gt;in fact it's better than it's ever been!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that endorsement Mary talked her husband into an appointment with&lt;br /&gt;the same sex therapist. After the physical exams were completed the&lt;br /&gt;doctor called Mary and Tom into his office. "I'm afraid there is nothing&lt;br /&gt;I can do for you," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But doctor," Mary complained, "you did such good for Linda and John,&lt;br /&gt;surely you must have a suggestion for us! Please, please, can't you give&lt;br /&gt;us some help? Any help at all?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, OK," the doctor answered. "On your way home, I want you to stop&lt;br /&gt;at the grocery store and buy a sack of apples and a box of cheerios..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5825898055824298393?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5825898055824298393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5825898055824298393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5825898055824298393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5825898055824298393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/sex-therapist.html' title='The Sex Therapist'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2957596550254859938</id><published>2007-06-04T03:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:29:44.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuns</title><content type='html'>It was Friday, and four nuns went to the priest at the local Catholic church to &lt;br /&gt;ask for the weekend off. They argued back and forth for a few minutes. Finally &lt;br /&gt;the priest agreed to let them leave the convent for the weekend. "However", he &lt;br /&gt;said, "as soon as you get back Monday morning I want you to confess to me what &lt;br /&gt;you did over the weekend." The four nuns agree, and run off. &lt;br /&gt;Monday comes, and the four nuns return. The first nun goes to the priest and &lt;br /&gt;says, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." The priest asks, "What did you &lt;br /&gt;do, Sister?" She replies, "I watched an R-rated movie." The priest looks up at &lt;br /&gt;heaven for a few seconds, then replies, "You are forgiven. Go and drink the &lt;br /&gt;holy water." The first nun leaves, and the fourth nun begins to chuckle quietly &lt;br /&gt;under her breath. &lt;br /&gt;The second nun then goes up to the priest and says, "Forgive me , Father, for I &lt;br /&gt;have sinned." The priest replies, "OK, what happened?" She says, "I was driving &lt;br /&gt;my brother's car down the street in front of his house, and I hit a neighbors &lt;br /&gt;dog and killed it." The priest looks up to heaven for half a minute, then says, &lt;br /&gt;"You are forgiven. Go and drink the holy water." The second nun goes out. By &lt;br /&gt;this time, the fourth nun is laughing quite audibly. &lt;br /&gt;Then the third nun walks to the priest and says, "Forgive me, Father, for I &lt;br /&gt;have sinned." The priest asks, "Out with it. What did you do?" She says, "Last &lt;br /&gt;night, I ran naked up and down Main Street." The priest looks up at heaven for &lt;br /&gt;a full five minutes before responding, "God forgives you. Go and drink the holy &lt;br /&gt;water." She leaves. The fourth nun falls on the floor, laughing so hard tears &lt;br /&gt;run down her cheeks. &lt;br /&gt;The priest asks her, "OK. What did you do that was so bloody funny?" &lt;br /&gt;The fourth nun replies, "I peed in the holy water..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2957596550254859938?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2957596550254859938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2957596550254859938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2957596550254859938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2957596550254859938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/nuns.html' title='Nuns'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7352659506952252080</id><published>2007-06-04T03:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:24:50.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Resume</title><content type='html'>My first job was working in an Orange Juice factory, but I got canned. I&lt;br /&gt;couldn't concentrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I worked in the woods as a Lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it,&lt;br /&gt;so they gave me the axe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I tried to be a Tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it -&lt;br /&gt;mainly because it was a sew-sew job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I tried working in a Muffler Factory, but that was too exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I tried to be a Chef - figured it would add a little spice to my&lt;br /&gt;life, but I just didn't have the thyme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attempted to be a Deli Worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn't cut&lt;br /&gt;the mustard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best job was being a Musician, but eventually I found I wasn't&lt;br /&gt;noteworthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I studied a long time to become a Doctor, but I didn't have any patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, was a job in a Shoe Factory. I tried but I just didn't fit in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became a Professional Fisherman, but discovered that I couldn't live&lt;br /&gt;on my  net income.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to get a good job working for a Pool Maintenance Company, but&lt;br /&gt;the work was just too draining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I got a job in a Workout Center, but they said I wasn't fit for&lt;br /&gt;the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as&lt;br /&gt;a  Historian - until I realized there was no future in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I retired and I found I'm perfect for the job!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7352659506952252080?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7352659506952252080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7352659506952252080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7352659506952252080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7352659506952252080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-resume.html' title='My Resume'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2787054423936197294</id><published>2007-06-04T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:02:48.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Astounding</title><content type='html'>Tillie and Millie, two old girl friends, met for lunch. "I married a &lt;br /&gt;wealthy clothing manufacturer," announced Tillie, "and he bought me a &lt;br /&gt;yacht for my birthday." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Astounding!" said Millie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have charge accounts in all the department stores," said Tillie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'Astounding!" said Millie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a drawer full of rubies and emeralds and my husband bought me a &lt;br /&gt;twenty five carat diamond ring for our second anniversary," said Tillie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Astounding!" said Millie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Enough about me," said Tillie, "What have you been doing?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," answered Millie, "I'm going to charm school." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really, what did you learn there?" asked Tillie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, for one thing, they taught me to say 'astounding' &lt;br /&gt;instead of 'bullsh*t'," replied Millie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2787054423936197294?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2787054423936197294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2787054423936197294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2787054423936197294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2787054423936197294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/astounding.html' title='Astounding'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7395883802650590642</id><published>2007-06-04T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T03:01:54.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same Place</title><content type='html'>Two hunters got a pilot to fly them into the far north for elk&lt;br /&gt;hunting.  They were quite successful in their venture and bagged six big&lt;br /&gt;bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilot came back, as arranged, to pick them up.  They started loading&lt;br /&gt;their gear into the plane, including the six elk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the pilot objected and he said, "The plane can only take four of&lt;br /&gt;your&lt;br /&gt;elk; you will have to leave two behind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They argued with him; the year before they had shot six and the pilot&lt;br /&gt;had&lt;br /&gt;allowed them to put all aboard. The plane was the same model and&lt;br /&gt;capacity.&lt;br /&gt;Reluctantly, the pilot finally permitted them to put all six aboard.&lt;br /&gt;But&lt;br /&gt;when the attempted to take off and leave the valley, the little plane&lt;br /&gt;could&lt;br /&gt;not make it and they crashed into the wilderness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Climbing out of the wreckage, one hunter said to the other, "Do you know&lt;br /&gt;where we are?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think so," replied the other hunter. "I think this is about the same&lt;br /&gt;place where we crashed last year."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7395883802650590642?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7395883802650590642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7395883802650590642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7395883802650590642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7395883802650590642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/same-place.html' title='Same Place'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3612956510200272949</id><published>2007-06-04T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:59:04.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Things</title><content type='html'>An old fellow fell in love with a lady. He got down on his knees and&lt;br /&gt;told her there were two things he would like to ask her. She replied,&lt;br /&gt;"OK." He said, "Will you marry me?" She replied, "Yes," then asked what&lt;br /&gt;his second question was. He replied, "Will you help me up?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3612956510200272949?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3612956510200272949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3612956510200272949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3612956510200272949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3612956510200272949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/2-things.html' title='2 Things'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-6222087481761545235</id><published>2007-06-04T02:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:58:15.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parachutist</title><content type='html'>An English parachutist and an Irish parachutist were arguing about who&lt;br /&gt;was best at folding a parachute. Unable to resolve their dispute on the&lt;br /&gt;ground, they decided to go up in a plane and judge by the mid-air&lt;br /&gt;performance of their parachutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irishman jumped first, pulled his cord, and started floating down&lt;br /&gt;towards the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the Englishman jumped, pulled his cord and nothing happened; he&lt;br /&gt;pulled his safety cord - nothing. In a matter of&lt;br /&gt;seconds he whizzed past the Irishman, plummeting like a stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," shouted the Irishman, yanking off his harness, "so ya wanna race,&lt;br /&gt;do ya?!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-6222087481761545235?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6222087481761545235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=6222087481761545235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6222087481761545235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6222087481761545235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/parachutist.html' title='Parachutist'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-4196631102179835072</id><published>2007-06-04T02:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:56:28.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Southern Dialect</title><content type='html'>After having been served in a Las Vegas cocktail lounge, a real southern gentleman beckoned the waitress back and said quietly, "Miss, y'all sure are a luvly, luvly lady; can ah persuade y'all to give me a piece of ass?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lord, that's the most direct proposition I've ever had!" gasped the girl. Then she looked around the room, smiled and added, "Sure, why not? You're nice lookin' too and it's pretty slow here right now, so why don't we just slip away up to my room?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the pair returned half an hour later, the man sat down at the same table and the waitress asked, "Will there be anything else, sir?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why yes," replied the southern gentleman. "Ah sure 'preciate what y'all just did for me; it was real sweet and right neighbourly, but where ah come from in Albama, we lack our bourbon real cold, so ah still need to trouble y'all for a piece uh ass for mah drink."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-4196631102179835072?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4196631102179835072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=4196631102179835072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4196631102179835072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4196631102179835072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/southern-dialect.html' title='Southern Dialect'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1518986165174644401</id><published>2007-06-04T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:55:54.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Under Your Bed</title><content type='html'>Three jockeys were enjoying a night's drinking. As the evening passed&lt;br /&gt;they became more and more morose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first jockey said "My wife's having an affair with an electrician!"&lt;br /&gt;When asked how he knew he explained that he had found a voltmeter under&lt;br /&gt;his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second jockey also admitted that his wife had a lover, but that he&lt;br /&gt;was a plumber as he'd found a monkey wrench under his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third jockey was by now looking really depressed and after some&lt;br /&gt;urging admitted that his wife was also having an affair, but that he&lt;br /&gt;knew that she was sleeping with a horse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asked how he knew the third jockey replied, "Last night I came home and&lt;br /&gt;found a jockey under my bed!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1518986165174644401?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1518986165174644401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1518986165174644401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1518986165174644401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1518986165174644401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/whats-under-your-bed.html' title='What&apos;s Under Your Bed'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-356996465706541210</id><published>2007-06-04T02:50:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:53:35.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worm Trick</title><content type='html'>Grandpa watched Tommy pull a worm out of the ground and told him that he would give him 10 bucks if he could put it back in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy left for a bit and said "Ok Grandpa, watch this". Tommy then pushed the worm right back down in the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Grandpa got out the 10 dollars and gave it to Tommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy said "Grandpa I can't keep this because I cheated. I sprayed the worm with hair spray. That's why I was able to do that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa said "No, you keep it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning at breakfast Grandpa walked up to Tommy and gave him another 10 bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy said "No Grandpa. You already paid me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa replied "That money was from Grandma."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-356996465706541210?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/356996465706541210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=356996465706541210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/356996465706541210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/356996465706541210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/worm-trick.html' title='Worm Trick'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3802950743880733532</id><published>2007-06-04T02:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:50:37.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Away</title><content type='html'>One day, John Smith decided to go to a new golf course where no one &lt;br /&gt;knew him, just to get away and see if he could do better elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hired a caddy to guide him around the course. After another day &lt;br /&gt;of slices, duff shots, misread putts and bad temper, he was &lt;br /&gt;obviously upset. He turned to the caddy and said, "You know I must &lt;br /&gt;be the worst golfer in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The caddy replied, "I think not sir, I have heard there is a guy &lt;br /&gt;named John Smith from across town who is the worst player ever!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3802950743880733532?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3802950743880733532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3802950743880733532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3802950743880733532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3802950743880733532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/getting-away.html' title='Getting Away'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1965450744745636537</id><published>2007-06-04T02:49:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:50:10.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pieces Of Pie</title><content type='html'>Little Johnny and his family lived in the country, and as a result, &lt;br /&gt;they seldom had guests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny was eager to help his mother after his father appeared with &lt;br /&gt;two dinner guests from the office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the dinner was nearly over, Little Johnny went to the kitchen &lt;br /&gt;and proudly carried in the first piece of apple pie, giving it to &lt;br /&gt;his father, who passed it to a guest. Little Johnny came in with a &lt;br /&gt;second piece of pie and gave it to his father, who again gave it to &lt;br /&gt;a guest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was too much for Little Johnny, who said, "Nice try, Dad, but &lt;br /&gt;the pieces are all the same size."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1965450744745636537?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1965450744745636537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1965450744745636537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1965450744745636537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1965450744745636537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/pieces-of-pie.html' title='Pieces Of Pie'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2861935757012686240</id><published>2007-06-04T02:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:49:36.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone to Sea</title><content type='html'>A nearsighted minister glanced at the note that Mrs. Jones had sent &lt;br /&gt;to him by an usher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The note read: "Bill Jones having gone to sea, his wife desires the &lt;br /&gt;prayers of the congregation for his safety."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Failing to observe the punctuation, he startled his audience by &lt;br /&gt;announcing: "Bill Jones, having gone to see his wife, desires the &lt;br /&gt;prayers of the congregation for his safety."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2861935757012686240?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2861935757012686240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2861935757012686240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2861935757012686240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2861935757012686240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/gone-to-sea.html' title='Gone to Sea'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3873025166634846673</id><published>2007-06-04T02:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:47:53.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spanish</title><content type='html'>A Spanish teacher was explaining to her class that in&lt;br /&gt;Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or&lt;br /&gt;feminine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;''House'' for instance, is feminine: ''la casa.''&lt;br /&gt;''Pencil,'' however, is masculine: "el lapiz.''&lt;br /&gt;A student asked, ''What gender is 'computer'?''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two&lt;br /&gt;groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether&lt;br /&gt;''computer'' should be a masculine or a feminine noun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The men's group decided that ''computer'' should definitely be of the&lt;br /&gt;feminine gender (''la computadora''), because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is&lt;br /&gt;incomprehensible to everyone else;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible&lt;br /&gt;later retrieval; and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending&lt;br /&gt;half your paycheck on accessories for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(THIS GETS BETTER!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine&lt;br /&gt;(''el computador''), because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they&lt;br /&gt;ARE the problem; and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a&lt;br /&gt;little longer, you could have gotten a better model.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3873025166634846673?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3873025166634846673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3873025166634846673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3873025166634846673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3873025166634846673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/spanish.html' title='Spanish'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3384657204202218074</id><published>2007-06-04T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:46:02.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marital Definations</title><content type='html'>BACHELOR:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy who has avoided the opportunity to make some woman miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BRIDE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman with a fine prospect of happiness behind her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COMPROMISE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An amiable arrangement between husband and wife whereby they agree to let her have her own way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIPLOMAT:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man who can convince his wife she would look fat in a fur coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GENTLEMAN:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A husband who steadies the stepladder so that his wife will not fall while she paints the ceiling. A man who, when his wife drops her knitting, kicks it over to her so that she can easily pick it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOUSEWORK:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the wife does that nobody notices until she doesn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man who gives up privileges he never realized he had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOINT CHECKING ACCOUNT:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A handy little device which permits the wife to beat the husband to the draw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An obsessive delusion that is cured by marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MISS:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A title with which we brand unmarried women to indicate that they are in the market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MISTRESS:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something between a mister and a mattress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOTHER-IN-LAW:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman who destroys her son-in-law's peace of mind by giving him a piece of hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPOUSE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will stand by you through all the trouble you wouldn't have had if you'd stayed single in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mate who is forever complaining about not having anything to wear at the very same time that she complains about not having enough room in the closet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3384657204202218074?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3384657204202218074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3384657204202218074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3384657204202218074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3384657204202218074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/marital-definations.html' title='Marital Definations'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8830723137170908112</id><published>2007-06-04T02:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:42:36.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wheelchair</title><content type='html'>Hospital regulations require a wheelchair for patients who&lt;br /&gt;are being discharged. However, while my friend was working&lt;br /&gt;as a student nurse, she found one elderly gentleman - already&lt;br /&gt;dressed and sitting on the bed with a suitcase at his feet -&lt;br /&gt;who insisted he didn't need her help to leave the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;After a chat about rules being rules, he reluctantly let her&lt;br /&gt;wheel him to the elevator. On the way down, she asked if his&lt;br /&gt;wife was meeting him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know," he said. "She's still upstairs in the bathroom&lt;br /&gt;changing out of her hospital gown."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8830723137170908112?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8830723137170908112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8830723137170908112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8830723137170908112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8830723137170908112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/wheelchair.html' title='Wheelchair'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8854759140591132606</id><published>2007-06-04T02:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:23:54.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confortable</title><content type='html'>When my wife was rushed to rush the hospital unexpectedly, she asked &lt;br /&gt;me to bring her a few items from home. One item on her list &lt;br /&gt;was "comfortable underwear." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure what she considered comfortable, I asked, "How will I know &lt;br /&gt;which ones to pick?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hold them up and imagine them on me," she answered. "If you smile, &lt;br /&gt;put them back."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8854759140591132606?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8854759140591132606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8854759140591132606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8854759140591132606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8854759140591132606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/confortable.html' title='Confortable'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-539174805563082706</id><published>2007-06-04T02:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:22:34.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Name</title><content type='html'>An unmarried woman is newly pregnant and gets into an auto         .&lt;br /&gt;She suffers a head injury and lapses into a coma for nine months. When&lt;br /&gt;she awakens in the hospital, she panics and asks about her baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her doctor is called in and gives her a mild sedative, then he sits&lt;br /&gt;down to answer her questions. "I'm so happy to see you recovering", he&lt;br /&gt;says. The woman responds, "Thank you doctor, but what about my baby? Is&lt;br /&gt;everything all right?" He replies, "Yes, despite your injury, we were&lt;br /&gt;able to perform a fairly normal delivery procedure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In fact," he goes on, "you've given birth to twins - a boy and a&lt;br /&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman is very happy and asks when she can see her new babies. The&lt;br /&gt;doctor replies, "Right away, but we've already sent the infants home&lt;br /&gt;with your brother. We'll call and tell him you're okay. While you were&lt;br /&gt;unconscious, your brother took care of everything for you. He even gave&lt;br /&gt;the babies names."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, the woman gets upset, "Doctor, my brother is an idiot!&lt;br /&gt;What name did he give my little     ?" The doctor answered that her&lt;br /&gt;name was Denise. "Oh, Denise, that's not so bad. What name did he give&lt;br /&gt;my boy?" The doctor answered, "Denephew".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-539174805563082706?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/539174805563082706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=539174805563082706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/539174805563082706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/539174805563082706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/baby-name.html' title='Baby Name'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8388344746355738713</id><published>2007-06-04T02:19:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:20:48.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Area 51</title><content type='html'>You've all heard of the Air Force's ultra-high- security, super-secret&lt;br /&gt;base in Nevada, known simply as "Area 51?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, late one afternoon, the Air Force folks out at Area 51 were very&lt;br /&gt;surprised to see a Cessna landing at their "secret" base. They&lt;br /&gt;immediately impounded the aircraft and hauled the pilot into an&lt;br /&gt;interrogation room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilot's story was that he took off from Vegas, got lost, and&lt;br /&gt;spotted the Base just as he was about to run out of fuel. The Air Force&lt;br /&gt;started a full FBI background check on the pilot and held him overnight&lt;br /&gt;during the investigation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the next day, they were finally convinced that the pilot really was&lt;br /&gt;lost and wasn't a spy. They gassed up his airplane, gave him a&lt;br /&gt;terrifying "you-did-not-see-a-base" briefing, complete with threats of&lt;br /&gt;spending the rest of his life in prison, told him Vegas was that-a-way&lt;br /&gt;on such-and-such a heading, and sent him on his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, to the total disbelief of the Air Force, the same Cessna&lt;br /&gt;showed up again. Once again, the MP's surrounded the plane... only this&lt;br /&gt;time there were two people in the plane. The same pilot jumped out and&lt;br /&gt;said, "Do anything you want to me, but my wife is in the plane and you&lt;br /&gt;have to tell her where I was last night!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8388344746355738713?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8388344746355738713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8388344746355738713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8388344746355738713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8388344746355738713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/area-51.html' title='Area 51'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-216634524730292838</id><published>2007-06-04T02:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:19:55.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seagull</title><content type='html'>A seaman meets a pirate in a bar, and talk turns to their adventures on&lt;br /&gt;the sea. The seaman notes that the pirate has a peg-leg, a hook, and an&lt;br /&gt;eye patch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seaman asks, "So, how did you end up with the peg-leg?" The pirate&lt;br /&gt;replies, "We were in a storm at sea, and I was swept overboard into a&lt;br /&gt;school of sharks. Just as my men were pulling me out, a shark bit my&lt;br /&gt;leg off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow!" said the seaman. "What about your hook"? "Well", replied the&lt;br /&gt;pirate, "We were boarding an enemy ship and were battling the other&lt;br /&gt;sailors with swords. One of the enemy cut my hand off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Incredible!" remarked the seaman. "How did you get the eye patch"? "A&lt;br /&gt;seagull dropping fell into my eye," replied the pirate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You lost your eye to a seagull dropping?," the sailor asked&lt;br /&gt;incredulously. "Well," said the pirate, "it was my first day with my&lt;br /&gt;hook"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-216634524730292838?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/216634524730292838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=216634524730292838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/216634524730292838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/216634524730292838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/seagull.html' title='Seagull'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5202064257153661873</id><published>2007-06-04T02:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:19:10.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fleeing Hospital</title><content type='html'>A man was seen fleeing down the hall of the hospital just before his&lt;br /&gt;operation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the matter?" he was asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "I heard the nurse say, 'It's a very simple operation, don't&lt;br /&gt;worry, I'm sure it will be all right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She was just trying to comfort you, what's so frightening about that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She wasn't talking to me. She was talking to the doctor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5202064257153661873?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5202064257153661873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5202064257153661873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5202064257153661873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5202064257153661873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/fleeing-hospital.html' title='Fleeing Hospital'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2740460870610702081</id><published>2007-06-04T01:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T02:16:52.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Grey Hair</title><content type='html'>When I discovered my first gray hair I immediately wrote to&lt;br /&gt;my parents:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear Dad and Mom, You saw my first steps. You might want to&lt;br /&gt;experience this with me too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I taped the offending hair to the paper and mailed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father's response was in the form of a poem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a trustworthy observation&lt;br /&gt;That nothing can compare&lt;br /&gt;In the process of aging&lt;br /&gt;With finding the first gray hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He signed off with this observation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That gray hair you sent is not the first one you gave us!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2740460870610702081?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2740460870610702081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2740460870610702081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2740460870610702081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2740460870610702081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/first-grey-hair.html' title='First Grey Hair'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-4525006132385333891</id><published>2007-06-01T04:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:25:13.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Aspirin</title><content type='html'>A guy is out with buddies - has few drinks - is feeling a little frisky&lt;br /&gt;but, true to his wife, goes home. He finds her sound asleep in bed with&lt;br /&gt;her mouth wide open, so he gets two aspirin and drops them in her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She starts to choke, but recovers and asks - "What did you put in my mouth?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Two aspirin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replies, "BUT I DON'T HAVE A HEADACHE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, - "That's all I wanted to hear"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-4525006132385333891?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4525006132385333891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=4525006132385333891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4525006132385333891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4525006132385333891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/2-aspirin.html' title='2 Aspirin'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7123456266497281848</id><published>2007-06-01T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:23:37.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>On the first day, God created the dog and said: "Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone&lt;br /&gt;who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years."&lt;br /&gt;The dog said: "That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So God agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second day, God created the monkey and said: "Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span."&lt;br /&gt;The monkey said: "Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the third day, God created the cow and said: "You must go into the field with the farmer all day&lt;br /&gt;long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years."&lt;br /&gt;The cow said: "That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God agreed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the fourth day, God created man and said: "Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years."&lt;br /&gt;But man said: "Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay," said God, "You asked for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is why the first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years&lt;br /&gt;we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has now been explained to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7123456266497281848?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7123456266497281848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7123456266497281848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7123456266497281848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7123456266497281848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3583929266826833830</id><published>2007-06-01T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:22:50.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Newlyweds</title><content type='html'>Mike was going to be married to Karen so his father sat him down for a little chat. He said, "Mike, let me tell you something. On my wedding night in our honeymoon suite, I took off my pants, handed them to your mother, and said, Here - try these on.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did and said," these are too big. I can't wear them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replied, 'Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I always will.' Ever since that night, we&lt;br /&gt;have never had any problems."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmm," said Mike. He thought that might be a good thing to try. On his honeymoon, Mike took&lt;br /&gt;off his pants and said to Karen, "Here - try these on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tried them on and said, "These are too large. They don't fit me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike said, "Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I always will. I don't want you to ever forget that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Karen took off her pants and handed them to Mike. She said, "Here - you try on mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did and said, "I can't get into your pants."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karen said, "Exactly. And if you don't change your smart-ass attitude, you never will."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3583929266826833830?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3583929266826833830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3583929266826833830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3583929266826833830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3583929266826833830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/newlyweds.html' title='Newlyweds'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-4666861563477471255</id><published>2007-06-01T04:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:21:03.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Women With Attention Deficit Disorder</title><content type='html'>Recently, I was working out at a health club and noticed a woman riding a stationary bike, reading a book, listening to music on her headphones,andoccasionally stealing glances at the soap opera on the TV.  Then Iglanced at the title of her book: "Women With Attention Deficit Disorder".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-4666861563477471255?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4666861563477471255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=4666861563477471255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4666861563477471255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4666861563477471255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/women-with-attention-deficit-disorder.html' title='Women With Attention Deficit Disorder'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3935661786879777202</id><published>2007-06-01T04:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:19:56.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Free Credit Card</title><content type='html'>1. Save every Free Credit Card Offer you get, Put it in pile A &lt;br /&gt;   2. Save every Free Coupon You get, put that in pile B &lt;br /&gt;   3. Now open the credit card mail from pile A and find the Business &lt;br /&gt;       Reply Mail Envelope. &lt;br /&gt;   4. Take the coupons from pile B and stuff them in the envelope you hold &lt;br /&gt;       in your hand. &lt;br /&gt;   5. Drop the stuffed to the brim envelopes in your mail and walk away &lt;br /&gt;       whistling. &lt;br /&gt;       I have now received two phone calls from the credit card companies &lt;br /&gt;       telling me that they received a stuffed envelope with coupons rather &lt;br /&gt;       then my application. They informed me that it they are not pleased that &lt;br /&gt;       they footed the bill for the crap I sent them. I reply with "It says &lt;br /&gt;       Business Reply Mail" I'm suggesting coupons to you to ensure that your &lt;br /&gt;       business is more successful. They promptly hang up on me. &lt;br /&gt;       Now, I did this for about a month before it got boring, so I got an &lt;br /&gt;       added idea! I added exactly 33 cents worth of pennies to the envelope &lt;br /&gt;       so they paid EXTRA due to the weight. I got a call informing me about &lt;br /&gt;       the money, I said it was a mistake and I demanded my change back. After &lt;br /&gt;       yelling at the clerk and then to the supervisor they agreed to my &lt;br /&gt;       demands and cut me a check for the money. I hold in my hand at this &lt;br /&gt;       very moment a check from GTE Visa for exactly 33 cents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3935661786879777202?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3935661786879777202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3935661786879777202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3935661786879777202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3935661786879777202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/free-credit-card.html' title='Free Credit Card'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1227752270490736382</id><published>2007-06-01T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:17:43.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Our Own Thinking</title><content type='html'>The businessman dragged himself home and barely made it to his chair before he dropped exhausted. His sympathetic wife was right there with a tall cool drink and a comforting word. "My you look tired," she said. "You must have had a hard day today. What happened to make you so exhausted?""It was terrible," her husband said. "The computer broke down and all of us had to do our own thinking."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1227752270490736382?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1227752270490736382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1227752270490736382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1227752270490736382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1227752270490736382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/do-our-own-thinking.html' title='Do Our Own Thinking'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-9028265197191080673</id><published>2007-06-01T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:15:52.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love, Lust &amp; Marriage</title><content type='html'>Love- When your eyes meet across a crowded room.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When your tongues meet across a crowded room.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When you try to lose your spouse in a crowded room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When intercourse is called making love.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When intercourse in called screwing.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When intercourse is a little town in Pennsylvania.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When you argue over how many kids to have.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When you argue over w ho gets the wet spot.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When you argue over whose idea it was to have kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When you share everything you own.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When you steal everything they own.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When the bank owns everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When it doesn't matter if you don't climax.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When the relationship is over if you don't climax.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When.... uh.... what's a climax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- W hen your heart flutters every time you see them.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When your groin twitches every time you see them.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When your wallet empties every time you see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When all the songs on the radio describe exactly how you feel.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When all the songs on the radio determine how you do it.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When you listen to talk radio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When breaking up is something you try not to think about.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When staying together is something you try not to think about.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When just getting through the day is your only thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When you're only interested in doing things with your partner.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When you're only interested in doing things TO your partner.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When you're only interested in your golf score.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- When a rainy day means more time to stay inside and talk.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- When a rainy day means more time to stay inside and have sex.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- When a rainy day means it's time to clean the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love- You only leave the house for coffee and doughnuts.&lt;br /&gt;Lust- You only leave the house for condoms and Vaseline.&lt;br /&gt;Marriage- You only leave the house when you're allowed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-9028265197191080673?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/9028265197191080673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=9028265197191080673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/9028265197191080673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/9028265197191080673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/love-lust-marriage.html' title='Love, Lust &amp; Marriage'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2490495487815736162</id><published>2007-06-01T04:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:14:40.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marriage Is About Sharing</title><content type='html'>As the waitress served the elderly couple, she noticed something very&lt;br /&gt;unusual. The man began to eat his meal while his wife stared patiently&lt;br /&gt;out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is there something wrong with your food?" the waitress asked the lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, the food looks great," she replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aren't you afraid your food will get cold if you wait much longer to&lt;br /&gt;eat?" the waitress queried further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," the lady replied, "that's all right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well aren't you hungry?" the waitress finally asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I sure am," the lady replied. "I'm just waiting until my husband gets&lt;br /&gt;through with the teeth."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2490495487815736162?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2490495487815736162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2490495487815736162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2490495487815736162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2490495487815736162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/marriage-is-about-sharing.html' title='Marriage Is About Sharing'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5885873379626244523</id><published>2007-06-01T04:12:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:13:29.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drink Alcohol</title><content type='html'>A biology teacher wished to strate to his students the harmful&lt;br /&gt;effects of alcohol on living organisms. For his experiment, he showed&lt;br /&gt;them a beaker with pond water in which there was a thriving&lt;br /&gt;civilization of worms. When he added some alcohol into the beaker the&lt;br /&gt;worms doubled-up and died.&lt;br /&gt;"Now," he said," what do you learn from this?"&lt;br /&gt;An eager student gave his answer.&lt;br /&gt;"Well the answer is obvious," he said " if you drink alcohol, you'll&lt;br /&gt;never have worms."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5885873379626244523?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5885873379626244523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5885873379626244523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5885873379626244523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5885873379626244523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/drink-alcohol.html' title='Drink Alcohol'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7721146316779864962</id><published>2007-06-01T04:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:12:46.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eat Like A Horse</title><content type='html'>Little Susie was Mommy's helper. She helped set the table when company&lt;br /&gt;was due for dinner. Soon, everything was on, Mr. Smythe the guest came&lt;br /&gt;in, and everyone sat down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Mother noticed something was missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Susie, dear," she said, "You didn't put a knife and fork at Mr.&lt;br /&gt;Smythe's place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But, Mommy, I thought he wouldn't need them," explained Susie. "Daddy&lt;br /&gt;says he always eats like a horse!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7721146316779864962?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7721146316779864962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7721146316779864962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7721146316779864962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7721146316779864962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/eat-like-horse.html' title='Eat Like A Horse'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1344011109157605879</id><published>2007-06-01T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:12:15.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swallowed By A Whale</title><content type='html'>A little boy was talking to her teacher about whales. The teacher said&lt;br /&gt;it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because&lt;br /&gt;even though a whale is a very large mammal, its throat is very small.&lt;br /&gt;The little boy stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale. The teacher&lt;br /&gt;reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human, it was impossible.&lt;br /&gt;The little boy said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".&lt;br /&gt;The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?"&lt;br /&gt;The little boy replied, "Then you ask him!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1344011109157605879?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1344011109157605879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1344011109157605879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1344011109157605879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1344011109157605879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/swallowed-by-whale.html' title='Swallowed By A Whale'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-887261188320618629</id><published>2007-06-01T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:10:35.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell Freeze</title><content type='html'>Sven and Olie died and went to Hell. After awhile, the&lt;br /&gt;came by to see how his new guests were doing. To his amazement,&lt;br /&gt;he found Sven and Olie were still wearing their winter gear and&lt;br /&gt;seemed to be quite comfortable. The       asked why they&lt;br /&gt;weren't hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olie replied, "We come from Minnesota where it's always cold.&lt;br /&gt;This is feeling pretty good to us." This upset the      , so he&lt;br /&gt;turned up the thermostat. Awhile later the       looked in&lt;br /&gt;again on Sven and Olie. To his surprise he found they were&lt;br /&gt;still wearing their winter gear.  The       questioned them on&lt;br /&gt;it again.  "You have to remember that we are from Minnesota and&lt;br /&gt;it's very, very cold there.  This is feeling nice to us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The       was even madder at this, so he turned the thermostat&lt;br /&gt;all the way up to maximum temperature. The       waited some&lt;br /&gt;time and then went back to Sven and Olie. This time he found&lt;br /&gt;they had only unzipped their coats, but still had all their&lt;br /&gt;winter clothes on. The       couldn't understand what was going&lt;br /&gt;on. The punishment down here was supposed to be the unbearable&lt;br /&gt;heat.  It wasn't working on these two. He had to ask again what&lt;br /&gt;the deal was. Sven replied, "We are Minnesotans and we just got&lt;br /&gt;over a freezing winter.  This is really great for Olie and Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A light flickered in the      's mind.  He went to the&lt;br /&gt;thermostat and turned it off. He thought if the heat wasn't a&lt;br /&gt;punishment, maybe he'd give them some freezing temperatures. A&lt;br /&gt;little while later the       came back to check in on Sven and&lt;br /&gt;Olie only to find them cheering and giving each other high&lt;br /&gt;fives, happier than ever! The       questioned them on their&lt;br /&gt;actions and Sven said happily, "Back home they always said, the&lt;br /&gt;Vikings will win the Super Bowl when Hell freezes     %  !!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-887261188320618629?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/887261188320618629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=887261188320618629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/887261188320618629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/887261188320618629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/hell-freeze.html' title='Hell Freeze'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5229467352908174565</id><published>2007-06-01T04:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:09:07.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Duct Tape Can't Fix Everything</title><content type='html'>Jeff walks into a bar and sees his friend Paul slumped over the bar. He&lt;br /&gt;walks over and asks Paul what's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," replies Paul, "You know that beautiful girl at work that I&lt;br /&gt;wanted to ask out, but I got an erection every time I saw her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," replies Jeff with a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," says Paul, straightening up, "I finally worked up the courage&lt;br /&gt;to ask her out, and she agreed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's great!" says Jeff, "When are you going out?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I went to meet her this evening," continues Paul, "but I was worried&lt;br /&gt;I'd get an erection again. So I got some duct tape and taped "it" to my&lt;br /&gt;leg, so if I did, it wouldn't show".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sensible" says Jeff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So I get to her door," says Paul, "and I rang her doorbell. She&lt;br /&gt;answered it in the sheerest, sexiest, dress you ever saw."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And what happened then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I kicked her in the face."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5229467352908174565?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5229467352908174565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5229467352908174565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5229467352908174565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5229467352908174565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/duct-tape-cant-fix-everything.html' title='Duct Tape Can&apos;t Fix Everything'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-6948547588778531070</id><published>2007-06-01T04:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:08:20.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire</title><content type='html'>Rabidplaybunny87: Okay, so my neighbors officially hate me&lt;br /&gt;GarbageStan23: why?&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: Well, me, david and andrew were having a bonfire in the backyard, and we were making s'mores and all... and suddenly we here sirens, and see a firetruck turn into the street in front of us.&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: So we all went running to see what was up, and our neigbor's house was on fire!&lt;br /&gt;GarbageStan23: oh shit!&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: Yeah, and when we got there, the wife was crying into her husbands arms, and we were just kinda standing there, and then she saw us, and then like for 10 seconds, gave us the dirtiest look ever&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: Turns out, we were still holding our sticks with marshmallows on it, watching the fire....&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: talk about bad timing...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-6948547588778531070?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6948547588778531070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=6948547588778531070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6948547588778531070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6948547588778531070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/fire_01.html' title='Fire'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7686859690530403920</id><published>2007-06-01T04:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:06:39.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire</title><content type='html'>Rabidplaybunny87: Okay, so my neighbors officially hate me&lt;br /&gt;GarbageStan23: why?&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: Well, me, david and andrew were having a bonfire in the backyard, and we were making s'mores and all... and suddenly we here sirens, and see a firetruck turn into the street in front of us.&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: So we all went running to see what was up, and our neigbor's house was on fire!&lt;br /&gt;GarbageStan23: oh shit!&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: Yeah, and when we got there, the wife was crying into her husbands arms, and we were just kinda standing there, and then she saw us, and then like for 10 seconds, gave us the dirtiest look ever&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: Turns out, we were still holding our sticks with marshmallows on it, watching the fire....&lt;br /&gt;Rabidplaybunny87: talk about bad timing...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7686859690530403920?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7686859690530403920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7686859690530403920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7686859690530403920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7686859690530403920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/fire.html' title='Fire'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5909938992750908363</id><published>2007-06-01T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:05:30.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Left-Turn Indicator</title><content type='html'>On a recent flight, an elderly passenger kept peering out the window.&lt;br /&gt;Since it&lt;br /&gt;was totally dark, all she could see was the blinking wing -tip light.&lt;br /&gt;Finally,&lt;br /&gt;she rang for the flight attendant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry to bother you," she said, "but I think you should inform the&lt;br /&gt;pilot&lt;br /&gt;that his left-turn indicator is on and has been for some time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5909938992750908363?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5909938992750908363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5909938992750908363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5909938992750908363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5909938992750908363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/left-turn-indicator.html' title='Left-Turn Indicator'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8396460797286484826</id><published>2007-06-01T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T04:04:26.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuns And The Parrot</title><content type='html'>Three nuns passed every day through a street that led them from Church&lt;br /&gt;to a Reformatory. They noticed a parrot that stood at the entrance of a&lt;br /&gt;big residential house. Every time they passed in front of that house,&lt;br /&gt;the bird would pronounce three sequential colors. One day, they heard,&lt;br /&gt;"Yellow, blue, black." One of the nuns noticed that those colors&lt;br /&gt;perfectly matched the colors of their underwear. She mentioned her&lt;br /&gt;discovery to the other two nuns, but both were reluctant to believe&lt;br /&gt;that could be possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, they all wore black underwear and passed in front of the&lt;br /&gt;house, and very precisely the parrot spoke, "Black, black, black."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing that, the three nuns were astonished. One of the nuns spoke up,&lt;br /&gt;"Girls, tomorrow we are going to trick that bird." After saying that,&lt;br /&gt;she recommended that the next day, none of them should be wearing any&lt;br /&gt;underwear under their vestments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respecting their agreement, the next day they wore no underwear, and&lt;br /&gt;proceeded to pass in front of the parrot's house. They peeked at the&lt;br /&gt;bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the beginning, the parrot looked a bit puzzled. He swung back and&lt;br /&gt;forth on the cane he was perched on. Then, after a while, the Parrot&lt;br /&gt;spoke, "Straight, Straight, Curly!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8396460797286484826?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8396460797286484826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8396460797286484826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8396460797286484826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8396460797286484826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/nuns-and-parrot.html' title='Nuns And The Parrot'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2926372337375641459</id><published>2007-06-01T03:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T03:53:55.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Problems</title><content type='html'>Two men met at a bus stop and struck up a conversation. One of them&lt;br /&gt;kept complaining of family problems. Finally, the other man said: "You&lt;br /&gt;think you have family problems? Listen to my situation."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A few years ago I met a young widow with a grown-up daughter. We got&lt;br /&gt;married and got myself a stepdaughter.&lt;br /&gt;Later, my father married my stepdaughter. That made my stepdaughter, my&lt;br /&gt;step-mother. And my father became my stepson. Also, my wife became&lt;br /&gt;mother-in-law of her father-in-law."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Much later the daughter of my wife, my stepmother, had a son. This boy&lt;br /&gt;was my half-brother because he was my father's son. But he was also the&lt;br /&gt;son of my wife's daughter which made him my wife's grand-son.&lt;br /&gt;That made me the grand-father of my half-brother."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This was nothing until my wife and I had a son. Now the half-sister of&lt;br /&gt;my son, my stepmother, is also the Grandmother. This makes my father,&lt;br /&gt;the brother-in-law of my child, whose stepsister is my father's wife, I&lt;br /&gt;am my stepmother's brother-in-law, my wife is her own child's aunt, my&lt;br /&gt;son is my father's nephew &amp; I am my OWN GRANDFATHER !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And you think you have FAMILY PROBLEMS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2926372337375641459?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2926372337375641459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2926372337375641459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2926372337375641459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2926372337375641459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/family-problems.html' title='Family Problems'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8065958283844622666</id><published>2007-06-01T03:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T03:50:23.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Checkup - Mexico</title><content type='html'>In his attempt to put a new patient at ease during a checkup,&lt;br /&gt;my friend, a gynecologist, struck up a casual conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After noticing the label on her sandals read "Hecho en Mexico,"&lt;br /&gt;he asked his patient,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So when were you in Mexico?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flabbergasted, the patient asked,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can tell all that from a pelvic exam?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8065958283844622666?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8065958283844622666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8065958283844622666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8065958283844622666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8065958283844622666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/checkup-mexico.html' title='Checkup - Mexico'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3469045236286649389</id><published>2007-06-01T03:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T03:19:50.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honeymoon Prank</title><content type='html'>Bill had always been a prankster. As each of his friends were married,&lt;br /&gt;Bill made sure some type of practical joke was played upon them. Now&lt;br /&gt;ready to be married himself, he was dreading the payback he knew was&lt;br /&gt;coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly, the ceremony went off without a hitch. No one stood up&lt;br /&gt;during the pause to offer a reason 'why this couple should not be&lt;br /&gt;married'. His reception wasn't disrupted by streakers or strippers,&lt;br /&gt;and the car the couple was to take on their honeymoon was in perfect&lt;br /&gt;working order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the couple arrived at their hotel and entered the room, Bill even&lt;br /&gt;checked for cornflakes in the bed (a gag he had always loved).&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, it seemed, was amiss. Satisfied that he had come away&lt;br /&gt;unscathed, the couple fell into bed and put their attention to&lt;br /&gt;consummating the union.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon waking after such an active night, the couple was ravenous so&lt;br /&gt;Bill called down to room service and asked "Can I get breakfast for&lt;br /&gt;two?". Before he was able to hang up, however, a soft voice from under&lt;br /&gt;the bed said "Make that five..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3469045236286649389?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3469045236286649389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3469045236286649389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3469045236286649389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3469045236286649389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/honeymoon-prank.html' title='Honeymoon Prank'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1891893868123773487</id><published>2007-06-01T03:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:47:41.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Tigers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kolkata....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday there was a rare picture obtained of 20 tigers together here.&lt;br /&gt;It is not a photoshop creation but a picture of a rare happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071035600485602674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="162" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qRT298NRPNI/Rl_wAtpN1XI/AAAAAAAAAFw/2ZFERkwq50E/s200/ATT164011.jpg" width="204" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071036218960893314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="109" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qRT298NRPNI/Rl_wktpN1YI/AAAAAAAAAF4/fWGVsRqLeps/s200/ATT164012.gif" width="142" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1891893868123773487?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1891893868123773487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1891893868123773487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1891893868123773487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1891893868123773487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/20-tigers.html' title='20 Tigers'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qRT298NRPNI/Rl_wAtpN1XI/AAAAAAAAAFw/2ZFERkwq50E/s72-c/ATT164011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1096136795344989805</id><published>2007-06-01T02:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T03:05:04.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leather</title><content type='html'>When a woman wears leather clothing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man's heart beats quicker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and his throat gets dry,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and he goes weak in the knees,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and he begins to think irrationally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever wonder why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she smells like a new truck...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1096136795344989805?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1096136795344989805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1096136795344989805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1096136795344989805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1096136795344989805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/leather.html' title='Leather'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-6574908104905054209</id><published>2007-06-01T02:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T02:20:18.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Ads</title><content type='html'>Personal Ads That Were Probably NEVER Answered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWM: Roommate needed for six bedroom north side condo.&lt;br /&gt;$800/month plus 1/2 utilities. Must enjoy garlic, taxidermy &amp; clock repair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWF: Seeks any M, age 16-52, for immediate marriage.&lt;br /&gt;Willing to beg. Call 24/hours, 7/days 1-800-I'm-4you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWM: 39, enjoys assault rifles, heavy drinking, and testosterone.&lt;br /&gt;Seeks like-minded SF, W only, to listen to political conspiracy theories&lt;br /&gt;and help stock secluded mountain shelter.  Don't bother to write, I already know where you live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWF: 25, enjoys poetry recitals, interpretive dance, herb tea, New Age&lt;br /&gt;music, Communing with Gaian nature spirits, and Jello sculpting.&lt;br /&gt;Seeks aloof, analytic whimp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWM: 59, wide range of interests including: Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Power Rangers, and Sea Quest.&lt;br /&gt;ISO compatible F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: Seeking an adventurous SF Interested in underwater bondage with or&lt;br /&gt;w/o scuba gear And albino livestock breeding. No weirdos please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SBM: Vegetarian Truck-driving Republican juggler Wishes to meet woman&lt;br /&gt;of similar interests Must be ambidextrous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DWF: Crazy ppl Need Love Too. If you enjoy destroying good furniture, Police lineups and locking your&lt;br /&gt;friends in closets, We already have three things in common !&lt;br /&gt;Let's get together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DM: Physician, 35 Desires to meet that special woman with real inner&lt;br /&gt;beauty. Send latest X-rays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DWM: Compulsive Liar Seeks beautiful woman to share my million dollar&lt;br /&gt;Riviera chateau. Visa Gold Card a must.  Private plane a plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWM: 32, my life's work is verifying, in detail, all the episodes shown&lt;br /&gt;on"The X-Files". ISO SWF with like dedication. Must be willing to travel a lot&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-6574908104905054209?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6574908104905054209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=6574908104905054209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6574908104905054209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6574908104905054209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/crazy-ads.html' title='Crazy Ads'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3134645779242891311</id><published>2007-06-01T02:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T02:19:33.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Men Talking</title><content type='html'>Man 1: Haircut?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man 2: Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3134645779242891311?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3134645779242891311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3134645779242891311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3134645779242891311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3134645779242891311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/two-men-talking.html' title='Two Men Talking'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1805430452216422800</id><published>2007-06-01T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T02:18:54.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Women Talking</title><content type='html'>Woman 1: Oh! You got a haircut! That's so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman 2: Do you think so? I wasn't sure when she gave me the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, you don't think it's too fluffy looking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman 1: No, it's perfect. I'd love to get my hair cut like that, but I think&lt;br /&gt;my face is too wide. I'm pretty much stuck with this stuff I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman 2: Are you serious? Your face is adorable. You could easily get&lt;br /&gt;one of those layer cuts - that would look so cute I think. I was actually&lt;br /&gt;going to do that except that I was afraid it would accent my long neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman 1: Oh - that's funny! I would love to have your neck! Anything&lt;br /&gt;to take attention away from these football player shoulders of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman 2: Are you kidding? I know girls that would love to have your&lt;br /&gt;shoulders. Everything drapes so well on you. I mean, look at my arms,&lt;br /&gt;see how short they are? If I had your shoulders I could get clothes to&lt;br /&gt;fit me so much easier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1805430452216422800?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1805430452216422800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1805430452216422800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1805430452216422800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1805430452216422800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/06/2-women-talking.html' title='2 Women Talking'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-946737104741273987</id><published>2007-05-31T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T23:06:12.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TwP9ONlFBf4" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-946737104741273987?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/946737104741273987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=946737104741273987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/946737104741273987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/946737104741273987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2925387128000336364</id><published>2007-05-31T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T21:08:11.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus Golf</title><content type='html'>Jesus, Moses, and another guy are standing on the tee of a water hazard. Jesus hits the ball and hooks it into the water. Next, Moses tees up and also hooks it into the water. The third guy comes up to the tee and as he hits a big gust of wind comes up and blows his ball into the water as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All three walk up to the water together, Moses walks up to the water and strikes it with his sand wedge.The water parts and he hits it onto the fairway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Jesus walks onto the water, the ball rises to the top of the water and Jesus pulls out his 5 iron and hits onto the green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third guy just stands there a moment, all of a sudden a fishereagle dives from the sky grabs the third guys ball out of the water carries it to the green and drops it into the hole. Moses turns to Jesus and says "That's the last time we play with your dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2925387128000336364?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2925387128000336364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2925387128000336364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2925387128000336364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2925387128000336364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/jesus-golf.html' title='Jesus Golf'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-4841744769509573666</id><published>2007-05-31T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T21:06:31.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cup Of Comotion</title><content type='html'>A man walks into a coffee shop, and is given a HUGE mug which he&lt;br /&gt;takes to his table. Wut when he tries to drink it, he finds  that&lt;br /&gt;instead of coffee, the mug contains a pair of beige cotton trousers.&lt;br /&gt;So he goes to complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The counter staff are not very helpful, so after arguing with them&lt;br /&gt;for some time, he eventually gets them to call the shop manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager is indignant and barks back, "But it's exactly what you&lt;br /&gt;asked for!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No it isn't!" says the customer, "how can this possibly be what I&lt;br /&gt;ordered?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a cup o' chinos", says the manager.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-4841744769509573666?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4841744769509573666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=4841744769509573666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4841744769509573666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/4841744769509573666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/cup-of-comotion.html' title='Cup Of Comotion'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-2011799022104716707</id><published>2007-05-31T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T21:04:49.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rivals</title><content type='html'>A professor was walking along a very narrow street when he came face &lt;br /&gt;to face with a rival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The street was too narrow for two to pass. The rival, pulling &lt;br /&gt;himself up to his full height, said haughtily "I never make way for &lt;br /&gt;fools!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiling, the professor stepped aside and said, "I always do."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-2011799022104716707?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2011799022104716707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=2011799022104716707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2011799022104716707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/2011799022104716707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/rivals.html' title='Rivals'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5683908150805279751</id><published>2007-05-31T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:22:12.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Bucks Or Else</title><content type='html'>A little old lady is walking down the street, dragging two plastic&lt;br /&gt;garbage bags with her, one in each hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a hole in one of the bags, and every once in a while a $20 bill&lt;br /&gt;is flying out of it onto the pavement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noticing this, a policeman stops her...."Ma'am, there are $20 bills&lt;br /&gt;falling out of that bag..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Damn!" says the little old lady....."I'd better go back and see if I&lt;br /&gt;can still find some.? Thanks for the warning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, now, not so fast," says the cop.? "How did you get all that&lt;br /&gt;money? Did you steal it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no", says the little old lady.? "You see, my back yard backs up to&lt;br /&gt;the parking lot of the football stadium.  Each time there's a game, a&lt;br /&gt;lot of fans come and pee in the bushes, right into my flower beds!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, I go and stand behind the bushes with a big hedge clipper, and&lt;br /&gt;each&lt;br /&gt;time someone sticks his little thingy  through the bushes, I say: $20&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;off it comes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, not a bad idea!" laughs the cop. "OK, good luck! By the way,&lt;br /&gt;what's in the other bag?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well", says the little old lady, "not all of them pay up"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5683908150805279751?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5683908150805279751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5683908150805279751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5683908150805279751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5683908150805279751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/20-bucks-or-else.html' title='20 Bucks Or Else'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7740735066746588342</id><published>2007-05-31T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:20:47.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>68 Cats</title><content type='html'>A famous art collector is walking through the city when he notices a&lt;br /&gt;mangy cat lapping milk from a saucer in the doorway of a store and he&lt;br /&gt;does a double take. He recognizes that the saucer is extremely old and&lt;br /&gt;very valuable, so he walks casually into the store and offers to buy&lt;br /&gt;the cat for two dollars.&lt;br /&gt;The storeowner replies "I'm sorry, but the cat isn't for sale.&lt;br /&gt;The collector says, "Please, I need a hungry cat around the house to&lt;br /&gt;catch mice. I'll pay you twenty dollars for that cat."&lt;br /&gt;And the owner says "Sold," and hands over the cat.&lt;br /&gt;The collector continues, "Hey, for the twenty bucks I wonder if you&lt;br /&gt;could throw in that old saucer. The cat's used to it and it'll save me&lt;br /&gt;from having to get a dish."&lt;br /&gt;And the owner says, "Sorry buddy, but that's my lucky saucer. So far&lt;br /&gt;this week I've sold sixty-eight cats."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7740735066746588342?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7740735066746588342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7740735066746588342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7740735066746588342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7740735066746588342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/68-cats.html' title='68 Cats'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-6400963303890266295</id><published>2007-05-31T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:19:48.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Politician Lie</title><content type='html'>A bus filled with politicians was driving through the&lt;br /&gt;countryside one day, on the campaign trail. The bus driver,&lt;br /&gt;caught up in the beautiful scenery,loses control and crashes&lt;br /&gt;into the ditch. A farmer living nearby hears the horrible crash&lt;br /&gt;and rushes out to discover the wreckage. Finding the&lt;br /&gt;politicians, he buries them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the police come to the farm to question the man.&lt;br /&gt;"So you buried all the politicians?" asked the police  officer.&lt;br /&gt;"Were they all dead?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer answered, "Some said they weren't, but you know how&lt;br /&gt;politicians lie."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-6400963303890266295?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6400963303890266295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=6400963303890266295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6400963303890266295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/6400963303890266295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/politician-lie.html' title='Politician Lie'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7731367683654739120</id><published>2007-05-31T20:16:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:17:10.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dealing With Mistake</title><content type='html'>A minister and lawyer were chatting at a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you do if you make a mistake on a case?" the minister asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Try to fix it if it's big; ignore it if it's insignificant," &lt;br /&gt;replied the lawyer. "What do you do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minister replied "Oh, more or less the same. Let me give you an &lt;br /&gt;example. The other day I meant to say 'the is the father of &lt;br /&gt;liars,' but instead I said 'the is the father of lawyers,' so &lt;br /&gt;I let it go."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7731367683654739120?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7731367683654739120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7731367683654739120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7731367683654739120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7731367683654739120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/dealing-with-mistake.html' title='Dealing With Mistake'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1386376979766043501</id><published>2007-05-31T20:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:16:21.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Room</title><content type='html'>Granny was visiting town for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She checks in at the hotel, and the bellboy takes her bags. She &lt;br /&gt;follows the boy, and as the door closes, she looks around and shakes &lt;br /&gt;her fist at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Young man, I may be old, and straight from the hills, but that &lt;br /&gt;don't mean I'm stupid! I paid good money, and this room won't do at &lt;br /&gt;all! It's too small, and without proper ventilation! Why there's not &lt;br /&gt;even a bed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bellhop looks at her and says, "Ma'am, this isn't your room, &lt;br /&gt;it's the elevator."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1386376979766043501?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1386376979766043501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1386376979766043501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1386376979766043501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1386376979766043501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/small-room.html' title='Small Room'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8927792933257191387</id><published>2007-05-31T20:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:14:59.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fate Of Cake</title><content type='html'>An overweight man decided it was time to shed some excess pounds. He &lt;br /&gt;took his new diet seriously, recruiting his co-workers for their &lt;br /&gt;support and even changing his driving route to avoid his favorite &lt;br /&gt;bakery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning, however, he arrived at work carrying a gigantic &lt;br /&gt;coffeecake. His fellow workers scolded him, but his smile remained &lt;br /&gt;cherubic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is a very special coffeecake," he explained. "I ally &lt;br /&gt;drove by the bakery this morning and there in the window were a host &lt;br /&gt;of goodies. I felt this was no , so I prayed, 'Lord, if you &lt;br /&gt;want me to have one of those delicious coffeecakes, show me a sign--&lt;br /&gt;let there be a parking place directly in front of the bakery,'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure enough," he continued, "the eighth time around the block, &lt;br /&gt;there it was!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8927792933257191387?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8927792933257191387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8927792933257191387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8927792933257191387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8927792933257191387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/fate-of-cake.html' title='Fate Of Cake'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-738658796674205866</id><published>2007-05-31T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:13:09.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean Glass</title><content type='html'>Waiter: "Tea or coffee, gentlemen?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st customer: "I'll have tea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd customer: "Me, too. And be sure the glass is clean!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter exits, returns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiter: "Let's see, that's two teas. Which of you wanted the clean &lt;br /&gt;glass?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-738658796674205866?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/738658796674205866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=738658796674205866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/738658796674205866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/738658796674205866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/clean-glass.html' title='Clean Glass'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7058586172219179610</id><published>2007-05-31T20:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:09:46.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma Boyfriend</title><content type='html'>A 5-year-old boy went to visit his grandmother one&lt;br /&gt;day.  He played with his toys in her bedroom while grandma&lt;br /&gt;was dusting.  He looked up and said,  "Grandma, how come you don't have a boyfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma replied, "Honey, my TV is my boyfriend. I can sit in my bedroom&lt;br /&gt;and watch it all day long. The TV evangelists keep me company and make me feel&lt;br /&gt;so good. The comedies make me laugh. I'm really happy with the&lt;br /&gt;TV as my boyfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma turned on the TV and the reception was&lt;br /&gt;terrible. She started adjusting the knobs trying to get the&lt;br /&gt;picture in focus.  Frustrated, she started hitting the backside of the TV&lt;br /&gt;hoping to fix the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy heard the doorbell ring so he hurried&lt;br /&gt;to open the door and there stood Grandma's minister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minister said, "Hello, son, is your grandma home?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy replied,  "Yeah, but she's in the bedroom bangin' her&lt;br /&gt;boyfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minister fainted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7058586172219179610?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7058586172219179610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7058586172219179610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7058586172219179610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7058586172219179610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/grandma-boyfriend.html' title='Grandma Boyfriend'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5358962364427394601</id><published>2007-05-31T20:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:07:26.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everuthing Is Big In Texas</title><content type='html'>There once was a blind man who decided to visit Texas. When he arrived on the plane, he felt the seats and said, "Wow, these seats are big!"&lt;br /&gt;The person next to him answered, "Everything is big in Texas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he finally arrived in Texas, he decided to visit a bar. Upon arriving in the bar, he ordered a beer and got a mug placed between his hands.&lt;br /&gt;He exclaimed, "Wow these mugs are big!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender replied, "Everything is big in Texas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of beers, the blind man asked the bartender where the bathroom was located.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender replied, "Second door to the right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blind man headed for the bathroom, but accidentally tripped over a bucket and skipped the second door. Instead, he entered the third door, which lead to the swimming pool and fell into the pool by accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scared to death, the blind man started shouting... "Don't flush, don't flush!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5358962364427394601?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5358962364427394601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5358962364427394601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5358962364427394601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5358962364427394601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/everuthing-is-big-in-texas.html' title='Everuthing Is Big In Texas'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7884768648035689987</id><published>2007-05-31T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:05:49.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pay Attention</title><content type='html'>First-year students at Med School were receiving their first anatomy&lt;br /&gt;class with a real dead human body. They all gathered around the surgery&lt;br /&gt;table with the body covered with a white sheet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor started the class by telling them, "In medicine, it is&lt;br /&gt;necessary to have two important qualities as a doctor. The first is&lt;br /&gt;that you not be disgusted by anything involving the human body."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For an example, the Professor pulled back the sheet, stuck his finger&lt;br /&gt;in the butt of the corpse, withdrew it and stuck it in his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go ahead and do the same thing," he told his students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The students freaked out, hesitated for several minutes, but eventually&lt;br /&gt;took turns sticking a finger in the butt of the dead body and licking&lt;br /&gt;on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everyone finished, the Professor looked at them and said, "The&lt;br /&gt;second most important quality is observation. I stuck in my middle&lt;br /&gt;finger and licked on my index finger..... now learn to pay&lt;br /&gt;attention...".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7884768648035689987?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7884768648035689987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7884768648035689987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7884768648035689987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7884768648035689987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/pay-attention.html' title='Pay Attention'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8967230723165115129</id><published>2007-05-31T20:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T20:00:14.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Languages</title><content type='html'>There was a man who traveled all around the world.  Every city&lt;br /&gt;he stopped in he would buy something for his mother and send it&lt;br /&gt;to her.  On one such stop he found a parrot that spoke thirty&lt;br /&gt;different languages.  He immediately bought it and sent it home&lt;br /&gt;to his mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later he calls his mother.  "Did you like the&lt;br /&gt;parrot?" he asked her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes," she replied.  "It was delicious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT!" the man cried. "You ate it? That parrot wasn't for you&lt;br /&gt;to eat! It spoke thirty languages!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother paused for a moment and then said, "So why didn't he&lt;br /&gt;say something?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8967230723165115129?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8967230723165115129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8967230723165115129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8967230723165115129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8967230723165115129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/30-languages.html' title='30 Languages'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1980953509971764716</id><published>2007-05-31T19:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:59:44.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sherlock Holmes</title><content type='html'>Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson went on a camping trip. As they lay down&lt;br /&gt;for the night, Holmes said:" Watson, look up into the sky and tell me&lt;br /&gt;what you see?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watson said, "I see millions and millions of stars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holmes: "And what does that tell you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watson: "Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of&lt;br /&gt;galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Theologically, it tells&lt;br /&gt;me that God is great and that we are small and insignificant.&lt;br /&gt;Meteorogically, it tells me that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;What does it tell you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holmes: "Somebody stole our tent."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1980953509971764716?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1980953509971764716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1980953509971764716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1980953509971764716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1980953509971764716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/sherlock-holmes.html' title='Sherlock Holmes'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-27471262592038338</id><published>2007-05-31T19:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:59:16.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flag Of Our Country</title><content type='html'>The kindergarten teacher was showing her class an encyclopedia&lt;br /&gt;page picturing several national flags. She pointed to the&lt;br /&gt;American flag and asked, "What flag is this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little girl called out, "That's the flag of our country."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very good," the teacher said. "And what is the name of our&lt;br /&gt;country?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Tis of thee," the girl said confidently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-27471262592038338?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/27471262592038338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=27471262592038338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/27471262592038338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/27471262592038338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/flag-of-our-country.html' title='Flag Of Our Country'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-292719663038817014</id><published>2007-05-31T19:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:58:35.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Felony Trial</title><content type='html'>A defense attorney was cross-examining a police officer during&lt;br /&gt;a felony trial --it went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Officer, did you see my client fleeing the scene?&lt;br /&gt;A: No sir, but I subsequently observed a person matching the&lt;br /&gt;description of the offender running several blocks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Officer, who provided this description?&lt;br /&gt;A: The officer who responded to the scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: A fellow officer provided the description of this so-called&lt;br /&gt;offender. Do you trust your fellow officers?&lt;br /&gt;A: Yes sir, with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: WITH YOUR LIFE?  Let me ask you this then officer--do you&lt;br /&gt;have a locker room in the police station--a room where you&lt;br /&gt;change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?&lt;br /&gt;A: Yes sir, we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: And do you have a locker in that room?&lt;br /&gt;A: Yes sir, I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: And do you have a lock on your locker?&lt;br /&gt;A: Yes sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Now why is it, officer, IF YOU TRUST YOUR FELLOW OFFICERS&lt;br /&gt;WITH YOUR LIFE, that you find it necessary to lock your locker&lt;br /&gt;in a room you share  with those officers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: You see sir, we share the building with a court complex, and&lt;br /&gt;sometimes defense attorneys have been known to walk through&lt;br /&gt;that room...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-292719663038817014?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/292719663038817014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=292719663038817014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/292719663038817014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/292719663038817014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/felony-trial.html' title='Felony Trial'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7469218015337208645</id><published>2007-05-31T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:58:03.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deacon At The Bar</title><content type='html'>Two rural church deacons who were having a sociable beer in the local&lt;br /&gt;tavern when they saw their minister drive by and take a good long look&lt;br /&gt;at their pickup trucks parked outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One deacon ducked down and said, "I hope the reverend didn't see us or&lt;br /&gt;recognize my pickup."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other shrugged and replied, "What difference does it make. God&lt;br /&gt;knows we're in here, and he's the only one who counts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first deacon countered, "Yeah, but I'm betting that God won't tell&lt;br /&gt;my wife!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7469218015337208645?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7469218015337208645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7469218015337208645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7469218015337208645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7469218015337208645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/deacon-at-bar.html' title='Deacon At The Bar'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-3250862918452698587</id><published>2007-05-31T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:57:25.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Things To Do In Elevator</title><content type='html'>1. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask:&lt;br /&gt;"Got enough air in there?"&lt;br /&gt;2. Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering: "Shut&lt;br /&gt;up, all of you just shut UP!"&lt;br /&gt;3. Whistle the first seven notes of "It's a Small World" incessantly.&lt;br /&gt;4. Sell Girl Scout cookies.&lt;br /&gt;5. On a long ride, sway side to side at the natural frequency of the elevator.&lt;br /&gt;6. Greet everyone getting on the elevator with a warm handshake and ask them to call you Admiral&lt;br /&gt;7. When at least 8 people have boarded, moan from the back: "Oh, not now, motion sickness!"&lt;br /&gt;8. Meow occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;9. Wear a puppet on your hand and talk to other passengers "through" it.&lt;br /&gt;10. Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers that this is your "personal space."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-3250862918452698587?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3250862918452698587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=3250862918452698587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3250862918452698587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/3250862918452698587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/fun-things-to-do-in-elevator.html' title='Fun Things To Do In Elevator'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8033110649784204042</id><published>2007-05-31T19:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:17:58.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>$500</title><content type='html'>One evening Mike went over to his friend Terry's house to play cards&lt;br /&gt;with some friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike sat directly across from Terry's wife. Mike dropped a card on the&lt;br /&gt;floor and bent down to pick it up. When he looked across the table he&lt;br /&gt;saw that Terry's wife had her legs open and no panties on. He sat up&lt;br /&gt;and was flushed. He went into the kitchen to get a drink of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To his surprise Terry's wife had followed him into the kitchen and said&lt;br /&gt;"Did you like what you saw?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike said "Yes I did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Well you can get more than that but it will cost you $500."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mike thought about this financial situation and said okay. She said&lt;br /&gt;come here tomorrow at 2:30 because Terry will be at work then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike said, "I'll see you then."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Mike came over, they had sex, he paid her, and then he&lt;br /&gt;left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Terry came home and asked, "Has Mike been over here today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, thinking she had been caught, "As a matter of fact, he did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terry said, "Good because that fool came by my job this morning and&lt;br /&gt;asked to borrow $500 till this evening, and he said he would leave it&lt;br /&gt;with you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8033110649784204042?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8033110649784204042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8033110649784204042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8033110649784204042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8033110649784204042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/500.html' title='$500'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1733903162599076956</id><published>2007-05-31T19:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:14:51.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THe Purse</title><content type='html'>As the bus pulled away, I realized I had left my purse under&lt;br /&gt;the seat. Later I called the company and was relieved that&lt;br /&gt;the driver had found my bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to pick it up, several off-duty bus drivers surrounded&lt;br /&gt;me. One man handed me my pocketbook, two typewritten pages and a box&lt;br /&gt;containing the contents of my purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're required to inventory lost wallets and purses," he explained.&lt;br /&gt;"I think you'll find everything there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I started to put my belongings back into the pocketbook, the&lt;br /&gt;man continued, "I hope you don't mind if we watch.  Even though&lt;br /&gt;we all tried, none of us could fit everything into your purse.&lt;br /&gt;And we'd like to see just HOW you do it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1733903162599076956?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1733903162599076956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1733903162599076956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1733903162599076956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1733903162599076956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/purse.html' title='THe Purse'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8735128907422163655</id><published>2007-05-31T19:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:13:10.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde Selling A Car</title><content type='html'>A blonde was trying to sell her old car. She was having a lot of&lt;br /&gt;problems selling it, because the car had almost 230,000 miles on it. One&lt;br /&gt;day, she told her problem to a brunette she worked with at a salon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brunette told her, "There is a possibility to make the car easier to&lt;br /&gt;sell, but it's not legal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That doesn't matter," replied the blonde, "if I can only sell the car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay," said the brunette. "Here is the address of a friend of mine. He&lt;br /&gt;owns a car repair shop. Tell him I sent you and he will 'fix it'. Then&lt;br /&gt;you shouldn't have a problem anymore trying to sell your car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following weekend, the blonde made the trip to the mechanic. About&lt;br /&gt;one month after that, the brunette asked the blonde, "Did you sell your&lt;br /&gt;car?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," replied the blonde, "Why should I? It only has 50,000 miles on it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8735128907422163655?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8735128907422163655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8735128907422163655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8735128907422163655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8735128907422163655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/blonde-selling-car.html' title='Blonde Selling A Car'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1897685718609181836</id><published>2007-05-31T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:02:40.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Littel Johnny</title><content type='html'>The naughty, Little Johnny comes home from catholic school with a black&lt;br /&gt;eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father sees it and says, "Johnny, how many times do I have to tell&lt;br /&gt;you not to fight with the other boys?" "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But Dad, it was not my fault.We were all in church saying our&lt;br /&gt;prayers.We all stood up and my teacher in front of me had her dress in&lt;br /&gt;the crack of her butt. I reached over and pulled it out.That`s when she&lt;br /&gt;hit me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Johnny," the father said. "You don`t do those kind of things to&lt;br /&gt;women."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The very next day Johnny came home with the other eye black and blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny`s father said, "Johnny, I thought we had a talk!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But Dad," Johnny said, "It was not my fault. There we were in church&lt;br /&gt;saying our prayers.We all stood up and my teacher in front of us had&lt;br /&gt;her dress in the crack of her butt.Then Louie who was sitting next to&lt;br /&gt;me saw it and he reached over and pulled it out. Now I know she doesn`t&lt;br /&gt;like this, so I pushed it back in!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1897685718609181836?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1897685718609181836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1897685718609181836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1897685718609181836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1897685718609181836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/littel-johnny.html' title='Littel Johnny'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5245198090186318082</id><published>2007-05-31T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T19:00:28.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Give Up</title><content type='html'>As a senior at St. Cloud State University in Minnesota, I often&lt;br /&gt;engage women psychology majors in heated discussions&lt;br /&gt;about male-female relationships.  Once, my friend Shelly and I&lt;br /&gt;got into a hot debate about whether men or women make the&lt;br /&gt;larger sacrifice of their respective gender characteristics when&lt;br /&gt;they get married.  To my surprise, Shelly agreed with me that&lt;br /&gt;men give up far more than women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're right, Steve," she said.  "Men generally give up doing&lt;br /&gt;their cleaning, their cooking, their grocery shopping, their&lt;br /&gt;laundry."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5245198090186318082?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5245198090186318082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5245198090186318082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5245198090186318082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5245198090186318082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/give-up.html' title='Give Up'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1028583538176213271</id><published>2007-05-31T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:58:57.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things That Drive Your Crazy</title><content type='html'>There are always one or two ice cubes that won't pop out of the tray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wash a garment with a tissue in the pocket and your entire laundry&lt;br /&gt;comes out covered with lint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The car behind you blasts its horn because you let a pedestrian&lt;br /&gt;finish crossing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A piece of foil candy wrapper makes electrical contact with your&lt;br /&gt;filling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You set the alarm on your digital clock for 7pm instead of 7am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The radio station doesn't tell you who sang that song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You rub on hand cream and can't turn the bathroom doorknob to&lt;br /&gt;open it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People behind you on a supermarket line dash ahead of you to a&lt;br /&gt;counter just opening up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't look up the correct spelling of a word in the dictionary&lt;br /&gt;because you don't know how to spell it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to inform five different sales people in the same store&lt;br /&gt;that you're just browsing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had that pen in your hand only a second ago and now you can't&lt;br /&gt;find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You reach under the table to pick something off the floor and&lt;br /&gt;smash your head on the way up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting gas next to 12 people, just as the elevator doors close,&lt;br /&gt;while going to the 39th floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Locking your keys in your car, looking through the window and&lt;br /&gt;realizing the spare is in the wallet right next to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When someone brakes at a yellow light right in front of you just&lt;br /&gt;as your speeding up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get 20 calls from telemarketers and on the 21st call you just&lt;br /&gt;let them have a piece of your mind and its your mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your mother calls during sex and you pick up the phone out&lt;br /&gt;of habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in a traffic jam when the opposite direction is going 75 miles&lt;br /&gt;an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your girlfriend wants to discuss your relationship during the Superbowl,&lt;br /&gt;in the last minute of the 4th quarter, when the game is tied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your boss catches you reading these stupid jokes. Now get back&lt;br /&gt;to work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1028583538176213271?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1028583538176213271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1028583538176213271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1028583538176213271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1028583538176213271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/things-that-drive-your-crazy.html' title='Things That Drive Your Crazy'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-8539787185887847211</id><published>2007-05-31T18:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:57:48.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitchen Table</title><content type='html'>I work as a systems administrator, and part of m job involves answering questions about computers. I generally like my job, but sometimes it gets on my nerves. When people ask me what I find so irritating, this is what I tell them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine that you are a salesperson for Ikea (substitute "furniture store" if you don't know what "Ikea" is). You get a phone call that goes like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer: I'd like to buy a kitchen table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You: That's fine; we have many styles of kitchen tables, I'm sure you can find one you like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: I need one that's 3 feet by 5 feet and has a butcher block top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y: Yes, we have a table like that. You can pick it up today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: OK, how can I get it back to my house?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y: Well, it comes disassembled, so you can just put it on a roof rack. We can loan you a roof rack if you don't have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: But how do get there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y: We're just off exit 25 of the Turnpike. Where are you coming from?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: Wait, wait, you're going way too fast for me. I have a Ford in my driveway, and the keys are in my hand. What do I do next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, whatever you say at this point, the response is always the same:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: But all I want is a kitchen table! Why does it have to be so *COMPLICATED*!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-8539787185887847211?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8539787185887847211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=8539787185887847211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8539787185887847211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/8539787185887847211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/kitchen-table.html' title='Kitchen Table'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7146612785244588910</id><published>2007-05-31T18:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:56:45.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going To Zoo</title><content type='html'>Little Johnny wanted to go to the zoo and pestered his parents for &lt;br /&gt;days.  Finally his mother talked his reluctant father into taking &lt;br /&gt;him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So how was it?" his mother asked when they returned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great," Little Johnny replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you and your father have a good time?" asked his mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, Daddy especially liked it," exclaimed Little Johnny &lt;br /&gt;excitedly, "One of the animals came racing home at 30 to 1!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7146612785244588910?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7146612785244588910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7146612785244588910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7146612785244588910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7146612785244588910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/going-to-zoo.html' title='Going To Zoo'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-7578288912365596521</id><published>2007-05-31T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:56:02.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change Of Job</title><content type='html'>A salesman, tired of his job, gave it up to become a police officer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several months later, a friend asked him how he liked his new role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," he replied, "the pay isn't great, and the hours can be &lt;br /&gt;awful. But I like the fact that the customer is almost always wrong."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-7578288912365596521?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7578288912365596521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=7578288912365596521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7578288912365596521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/7578288912365596521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/change-of-job.html' title='Change Of Job'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-5090888168492262283</id><published>2007-05-31T18:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:54:47.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Glass Of Water</title><content type='html'>A small boy is sent to bed by his father...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Five minutes later] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Da-ad..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm thirsty. Can you bring me a drink of water?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. You had your chance. Lights out." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Five minutes later] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Da-aaaad..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm THIRSTY...Can I have a drink of water??" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I told you NO! If you ask again I'll have to spank you!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Five minutes later] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daaaa-aaaAAAAD..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT??!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you come in to spank me, can you bring me a drink of water?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-5090888168492262283?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5090888168492262283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=5090888168492262283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5090888168492262283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/5090888168492262283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/glass-of-water.html' title='A Glass Of Water'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7408554811254643056.post-1963585544961059662</id><published>2007-05-31T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:54:00.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Piece Of Bread</title><content type='html'>While visiting my mother in the hospital, I stopped in the&lt;br /&gt;cafeteria for breakfast. I set a piece of bread on the moving&lt;br /&gt;toaster rack and waited for it to pass under the heated coils&lt;br /&gt;and return golden brown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, it got stuck at the back of the toaster, and I couldn't&lt;br /&gt;reach it. The woman next to me in line quickly seized a pair of&lt;br /&gt;tongs, reached in, and fished out the piece of toast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joked, "You must be an emergency room worker."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," she replied with a grin. "I'm an obstetrician."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7408554811254643056-1963585544961059662?l=myfunjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1963585544961059662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7408554811254643056&amp;postID=1963585544961059662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1963585544961059662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7408554811254643056/posts/default/1963585544961059662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfunjoke.blogspot.com/2007/05/piece-of-bread.html' title='Piece Of Bread'/><author><name>Jyericho</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
