<?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-4747704254750586964</id><updated>2012-01-31T23:52:50.528-08:00</updated><category term='injokes.com'/><category term='thejokeyard.com'/><category term='SantaBanta Jokes'/><category term='jokeswarehouse.com'/><category term='funlok.com'/><category term='fropki.com'/><category term='hitz.fm lites'/><category term='Lotsofjokes.com'/><category term='youtube'/><category term='short-funny-stories.com'/><category term='jokepier.com'/><category term='a-jokes.com'/><category term='Aha Jokes'/><category term='the-jokes.com'/><category term='jokes2go.com'/><category term='funny.com'/><category term='dreamhaven.org'/><category term='jokes.com'/><category term='Comedy Central'/><category term='Ah Beng Jokes.'/><category term='Jokesgallery.com'/><category term='cleanfunny.com'/><category term='jilljuck.com'/><category term='workjoke.com'/><category term='funny.co.uk'/><category term='funnyandjokes.com'/><category term='happy.com.my'/><category term='Yahoo Kids jokes'/><title type='text'>Heaven Of Jokes</title><subtitle type='html'>a place where jokerz meet laughter...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>283</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7115639118603405294</id><published>2012-01-31T23:41:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:52:50.638-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jilljuck.com'/><title type='text'>UFO</title><content type='html'>What do you call a deeply burnt food item in your lunch that is not recogonizable?&lt;br /&gt;UFO: Unidentified Fried Object.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7115639118603405294?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7115639118603405294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7115639118603405294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7115639118603405294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7115639118603405294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2012/01/ufo.html' title='UFO'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1063274449129942058</id><published>2012-01-31T23:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:41:46.441-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>The wife is not speaking to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;One night, this guy come into a  bar and asks the bartender for a drink. Then he asks for another. After a  couple more drinks, the bartender gets worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   "What's the matter?" the bartender asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   "My wife and I got into a fight," explained the guy "and now she isn't talking to me for a whole 31 days."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The bartender thought about this for a while. "But, isn't it a good thing that she isn't talking to you?" asked the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   "Yeah, except today is the last night." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1063274449129942058?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1063274449129942058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1063274449129942058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1063274449129942058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1063274449129942058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2012/01/wife-is-not-speaking-to-me.html' title='The wife is not speaking to me'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4993638514519396053</id><published>2012-01-31T01:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T01:14:59.018-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DORAEMON</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3jmvWticnFM/TyeJ-u4yTZI/AAAAAAAAA6o/2J6weQz3k2k/s1600/ad_doraemon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 914px; height: 345px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3jmvWticnFM/TyeJ-u4yTZI/AAAAAAAAA6o/2J6weQz3k2k/s1600/ad_doraemon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4993638514519396053?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4993638514519396053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4993638514519396053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4993638514519396053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4993638514519396053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2012/01/doraemon.html' title='DORAEMON'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3jmvWticnFM/TyeJ-u4yTZI/AAAAAAAAA6o/2J6weQz3k2k/s72-c/ad_doraemon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1473234346360675216</id><published>2010-03-09T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T17:47:56.653-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>How to Tell You're in a Lot of Trouble...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.ahajokes.com/cartoon/amazingbill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 439px" alt="" src="http://www.ahajokes.com/cartoon/amazingbill.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/4747704254750586964-1473234346360675216?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1473234346360675216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1473234346360675216' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1473234346360675216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1473234346360675216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2010/03/how-to-tell-youre-in-lot-of-trouble.html' title='How to Tell You&apos;re in a Lot of Trouble...'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6819975123539162673</id><published>2009-06-20T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T11:19:54.261-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Professional Practical Jokes on the Groom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="introText"&gt;A dentist, an electrician, and &lt;/span&gt;     a carpenter decide to play a practical joke their best friend on his wedding night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll loosen some joints on his bed so it collapses when he's making love," says the carpenter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll hot wire his mattress so they'll feel immense heat while making love," says the electrician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Those are good ideas," says the dentist. "But my contribution's going to be a real surprise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the new husband comes to the diner to meet his friends. He says "I congratulate you guys for making the bed heat up and collapse, but I'm gonna kill whichever one of you put novocaine in the massage oil!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6819975123539162673?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6819975123539162673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6819975123539162673' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6819975123539162673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6819975123539162673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/professional-practical-jokes-on-groom.html' title='Professional Practical Jokes on the Groom'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6125014516381064050</id><published>2009-06-20T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T11:17:34.013-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokeswarehouse.com'/><title type='text'>Let the Trucker Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;After driving for about six hours, a trucker decides to pull over and sleep for a little while. As soon as he falls asleep, he is awoken by some knocks on the door of the cab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Can you tell me the time, please?" asks a jogger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, it's 4:30," answers the trucker. He falls asleep again, but he is awoken again by another jogger who wants to know the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's 4:40!" yells the trucker. Deciding to really try to sleep a little, he writes on a piece of paper: I DON'T KNOW THE TIME. He sticks the paper in his windshield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; But he is awoken again. 'It's 5:25," says another jogger.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6125014516381064050?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6125014516381064050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6125014516381064050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6125014516381064050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6125014516381064050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/let-trucker-sleep.html' title='Let the Trucker Sleep'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5043412468233963327</id><published>2009-01-23T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:04:23.748-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funnyandjokes.com'/><title type='text'>Brokeback Mountain - Deputy Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;" id="intelliTXT"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;A few overworked deputy sheriffs deserved a vaction, together they decided to go on a &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(0, 128, 0); text-decoration: underline; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal;" class="IL_LINK_STYLE"&gt;mountain retreat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Since &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(0, 128, 0); text-decoration: underline; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal;" class="IL_LINK_STYLE"&gt;police officers&lt;/span&gt; are so underpaid, they decided to sleap two per room so they could afford the trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Now, nobody wanted to sleep in the same room with Daryl - he’s got a well known reputation for &lt;a href="http://www.tipstostopsnoring.com/basic-stop-snoring-tips-and-remedies/" title="Snoring Remedies"&gt;snoring&lt;/a&gt;  and since it wasn’t fair to make one of them stay with him the whole time - so they voted to take turns.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;The first deputy to bunk with Daryl and comes to breakfast the next morning with his hair a mess and his eyes all bloodshot, looking like he didnt get any sleep. They said, “Man, &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(0, 128, 0); text-decoration: underline; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal;" class="IL_LINK_STYLE"&gt;what happened&lt;/span&gt; to you?” He said, “Daryl snored so loudly, I just sat up and watched him all night, couldn’t get any sleep.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;The following night it was a different deputy’s turn. &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(0, 128, 0); text-decoration: underline; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal;" class="IL_LINK_STYLE"&gt;In the morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;, same thing - hair all messed up, eyes blood-shot, etc. They said, “Man, &lt;span class="IL_SPAN"&gt;&lt;input name="IL_MARKER" type="hidden"&gt;what happened&lt;/span&gt; to you? You look awful!” He said, “Man, that Daryl! Shakes the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(0, 128, 0); text-decoration: underline; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal;" class="IL_LINK_STYLE"&gt;roof&lt;/span&gt; he’s so loud. I watched him all night.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The third night was Frank’s turn. Now Frank was a big burly ex-football player; a man’s man. Said he wasn’t gonna put up with any snoring… “We’ll see!” said the other debuties. The next morning he came to breakfast bright eyed and bushy tailed. “Good morning, wonderful day outside isn’t it?” he said.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;They couldn’t believe it! They said, “Man, &lt;span class="IL_SPAN"&gt;&lt;input name="IL_MARKER" type="hidden"&gt;what happened&lt;/span&gt;?” He said, “Well, we got ready for bed. I went over and tucked Daryl into bed, then kissed him good night. He sat &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(0, 128, 0); text-decoration: underline; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal;" class="IL_LINK_STYLE"&gt;up all night&lt;/span&gt; just watching me. Didn’t snore a bit, hehe.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5043412468233963327?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5043412468233963327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5043412468233963327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5043412468233963327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5043412468233963327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/brokeback-mountain-deputy-edition.html' title='Brokeback Mountain - Deputy Edition'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7321938761413451775</id><published>2009-01-23T10:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:01:54.825-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokepier.com'/><title type='text'>Your Name In The Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="format"&gt;SILVIA: Dad, can you write in the dark?&lt;br /&gt;FATHER: I think so. What do you want me to write?&lt;br /&gt;SYLVIA: Your name on this report card.&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7321938761413451775?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7321938761413451775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7321938761413451775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7321938761413451775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7321938761413451775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/your-name-in-report.html' title='Your Name In The Report'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5500916678446823801</id><published>2009-01-23T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T08:25:17.078-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes2go.com'/><title type='text'>Tripod?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door-to-door baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Good morning, madam. I've come to...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;babies"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;fun too; you can really spread out!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for Harry and me"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But, if we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven different&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"My, that's a lot of....." gasped Mrs. Smith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I'd love to be in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Don't I know it," Mrs. Smith said quietly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;baby pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"This was done on the top of a bus in downtown London"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Oh my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, tugging at her handkerchief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"And these twins turned out exceptionally well, when you consider their&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;mother was so difficult to work with"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park to get the job&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing to get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;a good look"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Smith, eyes widened in amazement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Yes," the photographer said, "And for more than three hours too. The&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;mother was constantly squealing and yelling. I could hardly concentrate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "You mean squirrels actually chewed on your,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;um......equipment?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"That's right. Well, madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so we &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;can get to work."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Tripod?????"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;me to hold for very long. Madam? Madam? ....... Good Lord, she's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;fainted!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5500916678446823801?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5500916678446823801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5500916678446823801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5500916678446823801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5500916678446823801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/tripod.html' title='Tripod?'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8283903249533580213</id><published>2009-01-23T09:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:56:35.476-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Pregnant Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="introText"&gt;A man frantically speaks into &lt;/span&gt;      the phone, "My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is this her first child?" the doctor asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you idiot!" the man shouts. "This is her husband!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8283903249533580213?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8283903249533580213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8283903249533580213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8283903249533580213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8283903249533580213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/pregnant-wife.html' title='Pregnant Wife'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-2703753456682326836</id><published>2009-01-23T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:55:58.903-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injokes.com'/><title type='text'>Sherlock Holmes</title><content type='html'>Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson went on a camping trip. After a good meal and a bottle of wine, they were exhausted and went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Some hours later, Holmes awoke and nudged his faithful friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watson replied, "I see millions and millions of stars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What does that tell you?" Holmes said Watson pondered for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Timewise, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Theologically, I can see that The lord is all powerful and that we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have, a beautiful day tomorrow. What does it tell you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holmes was silent for a minute, then spoke. "Watson, you idiot, Some ------- has stolen our tent."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-2703753456682326836?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2703753456682326836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=2703753456682326836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2703753456682326836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2703753456682326836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/sherlock-holmes.html' title='Sherlock Holmes'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6874170101217307315</id><published>2008-11-10T09:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:33:06.905-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Steal No Hats!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;An elderly man was quite unhappy because he had lost his favorite hat. Instead of buying a new one, he decided he would go to church and swipe one out of the vestibule. When he got there, an usher intercepted him at the door and took him to a pew where he had to sit and listen to the entire sermon on "The Ten Commandments." After church, the man met the preacher in the vestibule doorway, shook his had vigorously, and told him "I want to thank you preacher for saving my soul today. I came to church to steal a hat and after hearing your sermon on the 10 Commandments, I decided against it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preacher: "You mean the commandment 'I shall not steal' changed your mind?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Man: "No, the one about adultery did. As soon as you said that I remembered where I left my old hat!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6874170101217307315?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6874170101217307315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6874170101217307315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6874170101217307315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6874170101217307315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/steal-no-hats.html' title='Steal No Hats!'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5856734623274216730</id><published>2008-11-10T09:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:30:03.920-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Out Of Gas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A boy takes a girl out on a first date. He drives them to a remote and romantic spot outside the city, puts his arms around her and says: "what do you know, wer'e out of gas".&lt;br /&gt;The girl then opens a purse and puts out a bottle. &lt;br /&gt;"Cool, is this wine?" the boy asks.&lt;br /&gt;"No", she answers, "It's gasoline".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5856734623274216730?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5856734623274216730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5856734623274216730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5856734623274216730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5856734623274216730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/out-of-gas.html' title='Out Of Gas'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4670960284082167081</id><published>2008-11-10T09:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:28:07.176-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Looking for Revange</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Frank was excited about his new rifle and decided to try bear hunting. He spotted a small brown bear and shot it. Right after, there was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see a big black bear. The black bear said, "That was my cousin and you've got two choices ... Either I maul you to death or we have sex."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After considering briefly, Frank decided to accede to the latter alternative. Even though he felt sore for two weeks, Frank soon recovered and vowed revenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He headed out on another trip where he found the black bear and shot it. Right after, there was another tap on his shoulder. This time a huge grizzly bear stood right next to him. The grizzly said, "That was a big mistake, Frank. That was my cousin and you've got two choices. Either I maul you to death or we have rough sex." Again, Frank thought it was better to cooperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although he survived, it took several months before Frank finally recovered. Outraged, he headed back to the woods, managed to track down the grizzly and shot it. He felt sweet revenge, but then there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find a giant polar bear standing there. The polar bear looked at him very sadly and said, "Admit it, Frank, you don't come here for the hunting, do you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4670960284082167081?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4670960284082167081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4670960284082167081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4670960284082167081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4670960284082167081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/looking-for-revange.html' title='Looking for Revange'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6321593830870405868</id><published>2008-11-10T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:24:18.853-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Like A Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A man and a woman had been dating for about a year, and their relationship was getting serious. The man proposed marriage, and she accepted. However, she told him that she wanted him to know that her chest was just like a baby's. He said that he loved her and that her measurements didn't matter to him. He told her that his penis was also like a baby's. She said that she loved him and that size didn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come the day of their wedding, all went well. That night, the happy couple checked into the honeymoon suite at a resort hotel. The blushing bride was in the bathroom putting on a sexy nightie. Her husband was in bed waiting. As she entered the bedroom, she reminded him of her confession about her chest being like a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry, honey," he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took her nightgown off, and her breasts were the smallest he had ever seen. He said that he was going to get undressed and reminded her of his confession about his penis being like a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he took his pants off, the new bride said, "Good God Almighty. I thought you said your penis was like a baby." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is," he said. "9 pounds and 21 inches long!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6321593830870405868?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6321593830870405868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6321593830870405868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6321593830870405868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6321593830870405868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/like-baby.html' title='Like A Baby'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8197227764986352002</id><published>2008-11-10T09:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:21:27.918-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>The Local Strip Club</title><content type='html'>Because Dave works hard at the plant and spends most evenings bowling or playing basketball at the gym, his wife thinks he is pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she takes him to a local strip club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doorman at the club greets them and says, ''Hey, Dave! How ya doin?'' His wife is puzzled and asks if he's been to this club before. ''Oh no,'' says Dave. ''He's on my bowling team.''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they are seated, a waitress asks Dave if he'd like his usual Budweiser. His wife is becoming uncomfortable and says, ''You must come here a lot for that woman to know you drink Budweiser.'' ''No, honey, she's in the Ladies Bowling League. We share lanes with them.'' A stripper comes over to their table and throws her arms around Dave. ''Hi, Davey,'' she says, ''Want your usual table dance?''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave's wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club. Dave follows and spots her getting into a cab. Before she can slam the door, he jumps in beside her and she starts screaming at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cabby turns his head and says, ''Looks like you picked up a real doozie this time, Dave!''&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8197227764986352002?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8197227764986352002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8197227764986352002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8197227764986352002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8197227764986352002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/local-strip-club.html' title='The Local Strip Club'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6110578638848064124</id><published>2008-11-10T09:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:20:24.069-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Saxophone Jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;Q: What is the difference between a saxophone and a chainsaw?&lt;br /&gt;A: It's all in the grip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a lawnmower and a soprano sax?&lt;br /&gt;A: You can tune the lawnmower and the owner's neighbors don't mind if you don't return the sax when you borrow it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a saxophone and a lawnmower?&lt;br /&gt;A: Vibrato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How many alto sax players does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;br /&gt;A: Five. One to handle the bulb, and 4 to contemplate how David Sanborn would've done it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: If you were out in the woods, who would you trust for directions, an in-tune tenor sax player, an out-of-tune tenor sax player, or Santa Claus?&lt;br /&gt;A: The out-of-tune sax player! You were hallucinating the other two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How do you make a chainsaw sound like a bari-sax?&lt;br /&gt;A: Add vibrato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's the definition of a gentleman?&lt;br /&gt;A: One who knows how to play the saxophone, but doesn't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How many sax players does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;br /&gt;A: Sixty. One to change the bulb and fifty-nine to talk about how much better Michael Brecker would have done it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6110578638848064124?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6110578638848064124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6110578638848064124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6110578638848064124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6110578638848064124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/saxophone-jokes.html' title='Saxophone Jokes'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6286740420216684130</id><published>2008-11-10T09:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:19:43.781-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Lurid Past</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;After three years of marriage, Kim was still questioning her husband about his lurid past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"C'mon, tell me," she asked for the thousandth time, "how many women have you slept with?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Baby," he protested, "if I told you, you'd throw a fit".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim promised she wouldn't get angry, and convinced her hubby to tell her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay," he said, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven - then there's you - nine, ten, 11, 12, 13.." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6286740420216684130?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6286740420216684130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6286740420216684130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6286740420216684130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6286740420216684130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/lurid-past.html' title='Lurid Past'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5015299802732616463</id><published>2008-11-10T09:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:18:40.935-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Breakfast Arguement</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A doctor and his wife were having a big argument at breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You aren't so good in bed either!", he shouted and stormed off to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By mid morning, he decided he'd better make amends and called home. "What took you so long to answer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was in bed." "What were you doing in bed this late?" "Getting a second opinion." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5015299802732616463?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5015299802732616463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5015299802732616463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5015299802732616463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5015299802732616463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/breakfast-arguement.html' title='Breakfast Arguement'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1048054650865053776</id><published>2008-11-10T09:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:17:47.799-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Picky Cannibals</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Two cannibals, a father and son, were elected by the tribe to go out and get something to eat. They walked deep into the jungle and waited by a path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before long, along came this little old man. The son said, "Ooh dad, there's one." "No," said the father. "There's not enough meat on that one to even feed the dogs. We'll just wait."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, a little while later, along came this really fat man. The son said, "Hey dad, he's plenty big enough." "No," the father said. "We'd all die of a heart attack from the fat in that one. We'll just wait."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour later, here comes this absolutely gorgeous woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son said, "Now there's nothing wrong with that one dad. Let's eat her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the father. "We'll not eat her either."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why not?" asked the son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because, we're going to take her back alive and eat your mother."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1048054650865053776?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1048054650865053776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1048054650865053776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1048054650865053776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1048054650865053776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/picky-cannibals.html' title='Picky Cannibals'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7974349608940252481</id><published>2008-11-10T09:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:11:45.033-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Snails</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A couple were celebrating their 25th anniversary at their house. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Suddenly the husband asks his wife: "dear, I love you so much, and to honor our special day I want to give you whatever you want. just name it". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The wife thinks a little bit and then says: "Well, actually I do have this sudden urge for some snails..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;So the husband leaves for this local delicacy and buys a lot of snails. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;On the way back he sees this gorgeous blond, who invites him to her house. He follows her and they have sex for hours. Suddenly he sees this backet of snails waiting to him near the entrance and remembers that his wife is still waiting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;He starts running like crazy carrying the bocket in his arm. seconds before his angry wife opens the door he hears her nervous steps and drops the bocket, so that all the snails are scattered around the floor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;When his wife opens the door and sees him with all the snails, he says: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Come on boys, just a few more steps, you can make it..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7974349608940252481?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7974349608940252481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7974349608940252481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7974349608940252481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7974349608940252481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/snails.html' title='Snails'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5266729169715838225</id><published>2008-11-10T09:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:10:32.930-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Nude Gallery</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A couple goes to an art gallery. They find a picture of a naked women with only her privates covered with leaves. The wife doesn't like it and moves on but the huband keeps looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The wife asks, "What are you waiting for?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband replies, "Autumn."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5266729169715838225?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5266729169715838225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5266729169715838225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5266729169715838225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5266729169715838225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/nude-gallery.html' title='Nude Gallery'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5755621332698172797</id><published>2008-11-10T09:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:09:57.428-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Banjo jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;Q: How many banjo players does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;br /&gt;A: Only one, but all the others gathered around will complain that that's not the way Earl Scruggs would have done it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How can you tell the stage you're playing on is level?&lt;br /&gt;A: The banjo player is drooling out of both sides of his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a banjo and an anchor?&lt;br /&gt;A: You tie a rope to an anchor before you throw it overboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: Why do so many fishermen own banjos?&lt;br /&gt;A: They make great anchors!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: Why did the Boy Scout take up the banjo?&lt;br /&gt;A: They make good paddles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a banjo and a chain saw?&lt;br /&gt;A: A chain saw has a dynamic range.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a banjo and a chain saw?&lt;br /&gt;A: You can turn off a chainsaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a banjo and a South American Macaw?&lt;br /&gt;A: One is loud, obnoxious and noisy; the other is a bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a banjo and a Harley-Davidson motorcycle?&lt;br /&gt;A: You can tune a Harley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a banjo and an Uzi submachine gun?&lt;br /&gt;A: An Uzi only repeats 40 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: Why does everyone hate a banjo right off?&lt;br /&gt;A: Saves time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: Why is the banjo player a fiddle player's best friend?&lt;br /&gt;A: Without him, the fiddle would be the most hated instrument on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How can you tell the difference between all the banjo songs?&lt;br /&gt;A: By their names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the most seldom heard comment made of banjo players?&lt;br /&gt;A: "Say, isn't that the banjo player's Porsche?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What do you say to the banjo player in the three piece suit?&lt;br /&gt;A: Will the defendant please rise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5755621332698172797?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5755621332698172797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5755621332698172797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5755621332698172797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5755621332698172797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/banjo-jokes.html' title='Banjo jokes'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6273948101469625512</id><published>2008-11-10T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:09:09.079-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Pickle Slicer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;This guy who works at a pickle factory comes home and hands his wife 50 dollars. She asked him what it was from and he told her that he won it in a bet -- the guys at the factory bet him 50 dollars that he wouldn't stick his dick in the pickle slicer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The wife was surprised and said she wanted to make sure he was still intact. He pulled down his pants and, indeed, it was all there, unharmed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;“But what about the pickle slicer,” asked the wife, perplexed. “Oh, she liked it too,” answered the husband. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6273948101469625512?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6273948101469625512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6273948101469625512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6273948101469625512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6273948101469625512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/pickle-slicer.html' title='Pickle Slicer'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6421454285208228272</id><published>2008-11-10T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T09:07:15.636-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Accordion jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;An accordion is a bagpipe with pleats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the definition of an optimist?&lt;br /&gt;A: An accordion player with a pager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between an Uzi and an accordion?&lt;br /&gt;A: The Uzi stops after 20 rounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What do accordion players use as a contraceptive?&lt;br /&gt;A: Their personalities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's the range of an accordion?&lt;br /&gt;A: Twenty yards if you've got a good arm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's a gentleman?&lt;br /&gt;A: Somebody who knows how to play the accordion, but doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's the difference between an onion and an accordion?&lt;br /&gt;A: No-one cries when you chop up an accordion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's the difference between an accordion player and a terrorist?&lt;br /&gt;A: Terrorists have sympathisers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's the definition of perfect pitch?&lt;br /&gt;A: When an accordion is thrown down the toilet without it touching the sides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's the difference between an accordion and a concertina?&lt;br /&gt;A: The accordion takes longer to burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How do you protect a valuable instrument?&lt;br /&gt;A: Hide it in an accordion case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's an accordion good for?&lt;br /&gt;A: Learning how to fold a map.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What's the difference between a chainsaw and an accordion?&lt;br /&gt;A: A chainsaw can be tuned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: Why is it good that accordionists have a half-ounce more brains than horses?&lt;br /&gt;A: So they don't disgrace themselves in parades. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6421454285208228272?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6421454285208228272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6421454285208228272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6421454285208228272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6421454285208228272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/accordion-jokes.html' title='Accordion jokes'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1682325391334330407</id><published>2008-11-10T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:59:58.692-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Smell Of A Brothel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;One afternoon, a Navy Chief and an Admiral were sitting in the barber shop. They were both just getting finished with their shaves and both of their barbers were reaching for some aftershave to slap on their faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Admiral shouted, "Hey, don't put that crap on me. My wife will think I've been in a brothel!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chief turned to his barber and said, "Go ahead and put it on. My wife doesn't know what the inside of a brothel smells like."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1682325391334330407?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1682325391334330407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1682325391334330407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1682325391334330407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1682325391334330407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/smell-of-brothel.html' title='Smell Of A Brothel'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-649586110163655422</id><published>2008-11-10T08:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:53:00.003-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>French horn jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;Q: What do you get when you cross a French horn player with a goal post?&lt;br /&gt;A: A goal post that can't march.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How many French horn players does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;br /&gt;A: Just one, but he'll spend two hours checking the bulb for alignment and leaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What do you get when you cross a French Horn player and a goalpost?&lt;br /&gt;A: A goalpost that can't march.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How do you make a trombone sound like a French horn?&lt;br /&gt;A: Put your hand in the bell and miss a lot of notes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How do horn players traditionally greet each other?&lt;br /&gt;A: "Hi. I did that piece in junior high."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How many French horn players does it take to change a lightbulb?&lt;br /&gt;A: Just one, but he'll spend two hours checking the bulb for alignment and leaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How do you get your viola section to sound like the horn section?&lt;br /&gt;A: Have them miss every other note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: What is the difference between a french horn section and a '57 Chevy?&lt;br /&gt;A: You can tune a '57 Chevy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Q: How do horn players traditionally greet each other?&lt;br /&gt;A: "Hi. I played that last year."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-649586110163655422?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/649586110163655422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=649586110163655422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/649586110163655422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/649586110163655422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/french-horn-jokes.html' title='French horn jokes'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6213942674824613301</id><published>2008-11-10T08:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:50:59.292-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Viagra For The Elderly</title><content type='html'>The old man in his  mid-eighties struggles to get up from the couch then starts putting on his coat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife, seeing the unexpected behavior, asks, "Where are you going?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replies, "I'm going to the doctor." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says, "Why, are you sick?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Nope, I'm going to get me some of  that Viagra stuff." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately the wife starts working and  positioning herself to get out of her rocker and begins to put on her coat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Where the hell are you going"? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She answers, "I'm going to the doctor, too." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Why, what do you need?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She  says, "If you're going to start using that rusty old thing, I'm Getting a tetanus shot." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6213942674824613301?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6213942674824613301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6213942674824613301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6213942674824613301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6213942674824613301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/viagra-for-elderly.html' title='Viagra For The Elderly'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5007959165871283373</id><published>2008-11-10T08:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:49:55.563-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>The Shoe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;One evening after work, a man drove his secretary home after she had a little too much to drink at a party. Although nothing happened, he decided not to mention it to his wife. Later that night, the man and his wife were driving to a movie when he spotted a high-heeled shoe hidden under the passenger seat. Pointing to something out the passenger window to distract his wife, he picked up the shoe and tossed it out of his window. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;They arrived at the theater a short time later and were about to get out of the car when his wife asked, "Honey, have you seen my other shoe?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5007959165871283373?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5007959165871283373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5007959165871283373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5007959165871283373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5007959165871283373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/shoe.html' title='The Shoe'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-497994217498975165</id><published>2008-11-10T08:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:48:10.526-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Reincarnation</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bryan came home from the pub late one Friday evening stinking drunk, as he often did, and crept into bed beside his wife who was already asleep.&lt;br /&gt;He gave a peck on the cheek and fell asleep. When he awoke he found a strange man standing at the end of his bed wearing a long flowing white robe. "Who the hell are you?" Demanded Brian, "and what are you doing in my bedroom?". The mysterious Man answered "This isn't your bedroom and I'm St Peter".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian was stunned "You mean I'm dead!!! That can't be, I have so much to live for, I haven't said goodbye to my family.... you've got to send me back straight away".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St Peter replied "Yes you can be reincarnated but there is a catch. We can only send you back as a dog or a hen." Brian was devastated, but knowing there was a farm not far from his house, he asked to be sent back as a hen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A flash of light later he was covered in feathers and clucking around pecking the ground. "This ain't so bad" he thought until he felt this strange feeling welling up inside him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmyard rooster strolled over and said "So you're the new hen,how are  you enjoying your first day here?" &lt;br /&gt;"It's not so bad" replies Brian, "but I have this strange feeling inside like I'm about to explode". &lt;br /&gt;"You're ovulating" explained the rooster, "don't tell me you've never laid an egg before". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Never" replies Brian &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well just relax and let it happen" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he did and after a few uncomfortable seconds later, an egg pops out from under his tail. An immense feeling of relief swept over him and his emotions got the better of him as he experienced motherhood for the first time. When he laid his second egg, the feeling of happiness was overwhelming and he knew that being reincarnated as a hen was the best thing that ever happened to him... ever!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joy kept coming and as he was just about to lay his third egg he felt an enormous smack on the back of his head and heard his wife shouting "Brian, wake up you drunken bas*ard, you're sh*tting the bed" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-497994217498975165?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/497994217498975165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=497994217498975165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/497994217498975165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/497994217498975165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/reincarnation.html' title='Reincarnation'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6829533011013179533</id><published>2008-11-10T08:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:46:17.222-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Hypnosis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A woman comes home and tells her husband, "Remember those headaches I've been having all these years? Well, they're gone." "No more headaches?" the husband asks, "What happened?" His wife replies, "Margie referred me to a hypnotist. He told me to stand in front of a mirror, stare at myself and repeat, 'I do not have a headache, I do not have a headache, I do not have a headache.' It worked! The headaches are all gone." The husband replies, "Well, that's wonderful." His wife then says, "You know, you haven't exactly been a ball of fire in the bedroom these last few years. Why don't you go see the hypnotist and see if he can do anything for that?" The husband agrees to try it. Following his appointment, the husband comes home, rips off his clothes, picks up his wife, and carries her into the bedroom. He puts her on the bed and says, "Don't move, I'll be right back." He goes into the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later, jumps into bed, and makes passionate love to his wife like never before. His wife says, "Wow! That was wonderful!" The husband says, "Don't move! I'll be right back." He returns to the bathroom and then goes back to the bedroom, and round two is even better than the first time. The wife sits up and her head is spinning. Her husband again says, "Don't move, I'll be right back." With that, he goes back into the bathroom. This time, his wife quietly follows him and there, in the bathroom, she sees him standing in front of the mirror, saying, "She's not my wife. She's not my wife. She's not my wife." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6829533011013179533?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6829533011013179533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6829533011013179533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6829533011013179533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6829533011013179533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/hypnosis.html' title='Hypnosis'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1355110445221320279</id><published>2008-11-10T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:44:07.742-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>The Bottom Line</title><content type='html'>&lt;table class="bodyblue_v2" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;                            &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;" class="jokeText" id="auto"&gt;                                                 A cowboy rides his horse up to a saloon. &lt;p&gt; All the patrons gawked as the cowboy kissed his horse on the butt before coming in and asking for a drink.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The bartender serves him and asks, "Mind if I ask why'd ya kiss your horse on the butt?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The cowboy says, "It's 'cause I got chapped lips." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The bartender asks, "Does manure help them heal?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Cowboy replies, "No, but it keeps me from licking them.                                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                             &lt;/td&gt;                                                                                                  &lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;                                           &lt;tr class="greenTableRow_v2"&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1355110445221320279?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1355110445221320279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1355110445221320279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1355110445221320279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1355110445221320279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/bottom-line.html' title='The Bottom Line'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5246250010101276526</id><published>2008-11-10T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:42:30.379-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Three Kinds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?" The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there's three kinds of breasts. In her twenties, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her thirties to forties, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit. After fifty, they are like onions." "Onions?" asks the boy. "Yes," said the father, "you see them and they make you cry." This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said, "Mom, how many kinds of willies are there?" The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, "Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his twenties, his willie is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties and forties, it is a birch, flexible but still reliable. After his fifties, it is like an old Christmas tree." "A Christmas tree?" "Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5246250010101276526?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5246250010101276526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5246250010101276526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5246250010101276526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5246250010101276526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/11/three-kinds.html' title='Three Kinds'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3472716454862289759</id><published>2008-07-19T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:59:16.115-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Ollllllllllllld Lawyer</title><content type='html'>A lawyer died and arrived at the pearly gates. To his dismay, there were thousands of people ahead of him in line to see St. Peter. To his surprise, St. Peter left his desk at the gate and came down the long line to where the lawyer was, and greeted him warmly. &lt;p&gt; Then St. Peter and one of his assistants took the lawyer by the hands and guided him up to the front of the line, and into a comfortable chair by his desk. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The lawyer said, "I don't mind all this attention, but what makes me so special?"  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; St. Peter replied, "Well, I've added up all the hours for which you billed your clients, and by my calculation you must be about 193 years old!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3472716454862289759?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3472716454862289759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3472716454862289759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3472716454862289759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3472716454862289759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/07/ollllllllllllld-lawyer.html' title='Ollllllllllllld Lawyer'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4563298435058502421</id><published>2008-07-19T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:56:15.778-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='workjoke.com'/><title type='text'>Insurance Agent 1</title><content type='html'>Three guys are fishing in the Caribbean. One guy says, "I had a terrible fire; lost everything. Now the insurance company is paying for everything and that's why I'm here." &lt;p&gt;  The second guy says, "I had a terrible explosion; lost everything. Now the insurance company is paying for everything and that's why I'm here."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  The third guy says, "What a coincidence. I had a terrible flood; lost everything. Now the insurance company is paying for everything and that's why I'm here."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  The other guys turned to him with confusion and asked, "Flood? How do you start a flood?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4563298435058502421?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4563298435058502421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4563298435058502421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4563298435058502421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4563298435058502421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/07/insurance-agent-1.html' title='Insurance Agent 1'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7621382457373229766</id><published>2008-07-19T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:52:14.158-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Chef Clown</title><content type='html'>&lt;table class="bodyblue_v2" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;span class="jokeTitle_v2"&gt;                                        &lt;span id="ctl00_ContentPlaceHolder1_lbl_JokeTitle"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;                                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="height: 15px;"&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;                                         &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://jokes.comedycentral.com/images/v2/pix_clear.gif" alt="spacer" width="1" border="0" height="10" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;                     &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;    &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;                            &lt;div class="jokeText" id="auto"&gt;                                                 How do you know if the head chef is a clown?    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the food tastes funny.                                                 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7621382457373229766?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7621382457373229766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7621382457373229766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7621382457373229766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7621382457373229766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/07/chef-clown.html' title='Chef Clown'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7692101455949520840</id><published>2008-07-19T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:50:05.517-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Mickey Mouse Divorcing</title><content type='html'>Mickey and Minnie Mouse were at court for divorce proceedings. The judge told Mickey, "Look here Mickey Mouse, I can't grant you a divorce from Minnie!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mickey Mouse was stunned and asked, "Why not???" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Judge said, "I've reviewed all the information you gave to the court, but I can't find any evidence at all to support the grounds that she is crazy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mickey Mouse says, "Your Honour! I didn't say she was CRAZY, I said she was f**ing Goofy!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7692101455949520840?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7692101455949520840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7692101455949520840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7692101455949520840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7692101455949520840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/07/mickey-mouse-divorcing.html' title='Mickey Mouse Divorcing'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5074774734264314975</id><published>2008-07-19T09:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:43:47.361-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Cleaning Money</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Two men are in a bar getting drunk. Suddenly one of them throws up all over himself. &lt;br /&gt;He says "Oh, no. Now my wife will kill me". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His friend says "Don't worry. Just tuck a twenty dollar bill in your breast pocket and tell your wife that someone threw up on you and gave you twenty dollars for the dry cleaning bill".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they stay for another couple of hours and get even drunker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually he reels home and his wife starts to give him a bad time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You reek of alcohol and you've thrown up all over yourself, my God you're disgusting" etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking very carefully so as not to slur, he says, "Wait. It's not what you think. I only had one drink, but this man was sick on me. He'd obviously had one too many, or else he just couldn't hold his liquor. He was very sorry and he gave me twenty dollars for the cleaning bill. Look in my breast pocket."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks in his breast pocket and says, "But this is forty dollars". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, yes." says the man. "He pee'd on my trousers too".  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5074774734264314975?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5074774734264314975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5074774734264314975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5074774734264314975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5074774734264314975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/07/cleaning-money.html' title='Cleaning Money'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4042634196245248440</id><published>2008-07-19T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:39:18.514-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Rubber Thingy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;An old man gets on a crowded bus and no one gives him a seat. As the bus shakes and rattles, the old man's cane slips on the floor and he falls. As he gets up, a seven year old kid, sitting nearby, turns to him and says, "If you put a little rubber thingy on the end of your stick, it wouldn't slip."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man snaps back: "Well, if your daddy did the same thing seven years ago, I would have a seat today."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4042634196245248440?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4042634196245248440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4042634196245248440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4042634196245248440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4042634196245248440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/07/rubber-thingy.html' title='Rubber Thingy'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3096110058337117223</id><published>2008-03-26T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:39:35.332-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Milking It</title><content type='html'>A woman and a baby were in the doctor’s examining room, waiting for the doctor to come in. &lt;p&gt;The doctor arrived, examined the baby, checked his weight and found it somewhat below normal. The doctor asked if the baby was breast fed or bottle fed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; “Breast fed,” the woman replied. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;“Well, strip down to your waist,” the doctor asked. She did. He pressed, kneaded, rolled, cupped, and pinched both breasts in a detailed, rigorously thorough examination. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Motioning for her to get dressed he said, “No wonder this baby is under weight!  You don’t have any milk.” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; “I know,” she said, “I’m his grandmother, but I’m glad I came.”                                                  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3096110058337117223?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3096110058337117223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3096110058337117223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3096110058337117223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3096110058337117223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/milking-it.html' title='Milking It'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-2708737743503348079</id><published>2008-03-26T05:35:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:37:31.563-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Nude Tan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A rather well built woman, Joan, spent almost all of her vacation time sunbathing on the roof of her hotel. The first day she sunbathed, she wore a red bathing suit. However on the second day, she felt a little more adventurous. She slipped out of it in order to get an overall tan figuring that no one could see her way up there. She'd hardly began when she heard someone running up the stairs. She was lying on her stomach, so she just pulled a towel over her rear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me, miss," said a flustered little (out of breath) assistant manager of the hotel. "The Hilton doesn't mind you sunbathing on the roof, but we would very much appreciate you wearing a bathing suit as you did yesterday!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What difference does it make", Joan asked rather calmly. "No one can see me up here on the roof and besides, I'm covered with a towel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"With all due respect, not exactly ma'am," said the embarrassed little man. "You are lying on the dining room skylight."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-2708737743503348079?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2708737743503348079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=2708737743503348079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2708737743503348079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2708737743503348079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/nude-tan.html' title='Nude Tan'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4586360273663664917</id><published>2008-03-26T05:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:35:35.393-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Totally Bats</title><content type='html'>Two bats are going for their midnight feed. &lt;p&gt; After an hour or so, one bat gets tired of looking and goes home with no blood. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The other bat comes home with blood dripping from its mouth. The first bat says enviously, "Where did you get all that blood from?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The second bat replies, "Follow me.  I`ll show you." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; After awhile the second bat leads them to a cave.  He says, "You see that wall over there?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The hungry bat excitedly says, "Yes!"  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Other bat says, "I didn't."                                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4586360273663664917?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4586360273663664917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4586360273663664917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4586360273663664917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4586360273663664917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/totally-bats.html' title='Totally Bats'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4210970298397710070</id><published>2008-03-26T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:34:50.560-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>500$</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Two couples were playing cards one evening. One of the husbands, Jerry, accidentally dropped some cards on the floor. When he bent down under the table to pick them up, he noticed that Ray's wife Shaniqua, had her legs spread wide, and she wasn't wearing any underwear! Shocked by this, Jerry, upon trying to sit up again, hit his head on the table and emerged red-faced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Jerry went into the kitchen to get some refreshments. Shaniqua followed him and asked, "Did you see anything that you liked under the table?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprised by her boldness, Jerry courageously admitted that, well, yes, he did. She said, "You can have it, but it will cost you $500." After taking a minute or two to assess the financial and moral costs of this offer, Jerry indicated that he was indeed interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told him that since her husband, Ray, works Friday afternoons and Jerry doesn't, that Jerry should be at her house around 2:00 PM, Friday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Friday rolls around, Jerry shows up at Ray's house for sex with Ray's wife at 2:00 PM sharp, and after paying her the agreed upon $500.00, they go to her bedroom and have fantastic sex, just as Shaniqua had promised. Afterwards, Jerry quickly dresses and leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As was his habit at 6:00 PM, Ray returned home from work. Upon entering the house and encountering his wife, he asked loudly, "Did Jerry come by with my money?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a lump in her throat, Ray's wife answered, "Oh yeah, he did stop by here for a few minutes this afternoon." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her heart nearly skipped a beat when Ray curtly asked, "And did he give you $500.00?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terror she assumed she'd somehow been found out, and after mustering up her best poker face, she replied, "Well, yes, in fact he did give me five hundred dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ray, with a satisfied look on his face, surprised Shaniqua by saying, "Good, I was hoping so. Jerry came by my office this morning and borrowed five hundred dollars from me. He promised me he'd stop by this afternoon on his way home and pay me back." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4210970298397710070?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4210970298397710070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4210970298397710070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4210970298397710070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4210970298397710070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/500.html' title='500$'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7278919975046445261</id><published>2008-03-26T05:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:31:22.901-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Would You Marry Again?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;One evening, impressed by a meat entree his wife had prepared, the husband asked, "What did you marinate this in?"&lt;br /&gt;The wife dropped her fork and went into a long explanation about how much she loved him and how life wouldn't be the same without him.&lt;br /&gt;She must have seen the confused look on her husband's face, because she inquired, "What did you ask me?" When he told her what he'd asked, the wife laughed and said, "I thought you asked me if I would marry you again!" Later, as she was cleaning up the kitchen, the husband called out, "Hey, Hon, WOULD you marry me again?" Without hesitation she replied, "Vinegar and barbecue sauce."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7278919975046445261?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7278919975046445261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7278919975046445261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7278919975046445261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7278919975046445261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/would-you-marry-again.html' title='Would You Marry Again?'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-384822745041661251</id><published>2008-03-26T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:26:16.494-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Stayin' Alive</title><content type='html'>A cowboy told his grandson the secret to a long life.  &lt;p&gt; He said, "You gotta sprinkle a little gunpowder on your oatmeal, see. If you do, you'll live to a nice ripe old age."  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; So the cowboy did this religiously every day, and sure enough, lived to the nice ripe old age of 96.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; When he died he left behind 4 children, 8 grandchildren, 15 great-grandchildren  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; ...and a 16 foot hole in the wall of the crematorium.                                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-384822745041661251?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/384822745041661251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=384822745041661251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/384822745041661251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/384822745041661251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/stayin-alive.html' title='Stayin&apos; Alive'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6821434096300979841</id><published>2008-03-26T05:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:24:34.955-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>That's A Buncha Bull</title><content type='html'>A man was visiting Spain and passed by a restaurant in Madrid after a bullfight. They were advertising that they served the balls of the bull who lost the bullfight. Intrigued, the man went inside, only to find that where was a six-week waiting list to get to eat the loser's balls. So he signed up and came back six weeks later. When he got his meal, there were two teeny, teeny balls on his plate. He called the waiter over to complain. &lt;p&gt; "I've waited six weeks for bull balls. What are these?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; "Sir," the waiter said, "the bull doesn't always lose."                                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6821434096300979841?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6821434096300979841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6821434096300979841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6821434096300979841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6821434096300979841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/thats-buncha-bull.html' title='That&apos;s A Buncha Bull'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3611487308100016947</id><published>2008-03-26T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:23:12.795-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Wonderful Threesome</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The newly wed wife said to her husband when he returned from work, "I have great news for you. Pretty soon we're going to be three in this house instead of two."&lt;br /&gt;The husband started glowing with happiness and kissing his wife said, "Oh darling, I'm the happiest man in the world."&lt;br /&gt;"I'm glad that you feel that way because tomorrow morning my mother moves in with us," she replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3611487308100016947?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3611487308100016947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3611487308100016947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3611487308100016947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3611487308100016947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/wonderful-threesome.html' title='Wonderful Threesome'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-164206846027905197</id><published>2008-03-26T05:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:18:49.788-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funnyandjokes.com'/><title type='text'>Pleasing A Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;&lt;p&gt;A new, special kind of store just opened up in a Manhatten shopping center. This store sells husbands, yes that’s right - women can browse men from floors of choices.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Actually, there are 6 floors of men, and with an increase in the floor level bringing an positive attributes… a nifty setup - with a catch. As you open the door to any floor, you may choose a man from that floor but if you go up, you cannot go back down except to exit the building. Interesting, right?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So a young woman goes to the shopping center to find a husband. On the first floor the sign on the door reads: &lt;em&gt;Floor 1 - These men have jobs&lt;/em&gt;. The woman reads the sign and says to herself, “Well, that’s better than my last boyfriend, but I wonder what’s further up?” So up she goes.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The second floor sign reads: &lt;em&gt;Floor 2 - These men have jobs and love kids.&lt;/em&gt; The woman remarks to herself, “That’s great, but I wonder what’s further up?” And up she goes again.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The third floor sign reads: &lt;em&gt;Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love kids and are extremely good looking&lt;/em&gt;. “Hmmm, better” she says. “But I wonder what’s upstairs?”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The fourth floor sign reads: &lt;em&gt;Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking and help with the housework.&lt;/em&gt; “Wow!” exclaims the woman, “very tempting. BUT, there must be more further up!” And again she heads up another flight.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The fifth floor sign reads: &lt;em&gt;Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak.&lt;/em&gt; “Oh, mercy me! But just think… what must be awaiting me further on?” So up to the sixth floor she goes.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The sixth floor sign reads: &lt;em&gt;Floor 6 - You are visitor 7,548,652 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor only exists as proof that women are impossible to please&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-164206846027905197?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/164206846027905197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=164206846027905197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/164206846027905197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/164206846027905197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/pleasing-women.html' title='Pleasing A Women'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5932001067871977701</id><published>2008-03-26T05:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:15:48.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>If I Wasn't Rich</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A Rich old man, who inherited all his money from his father, one day asks his young wife: "Honey, would you still have married me if my father didn't leave me with all this money?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife smiles gently and answers: "Sure honey, you know I would marry you no matter who gave you the money".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5932001067871977701?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5932001067871977701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5932001067871977701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5932001067871977701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5932001067871977701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/if-i-wasnt-rich.html' title='If I Wasn&apos;t Rich'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8899293800572199371</id><published>2008-03-26T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:14:05.115-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>A man with a pegleg, hook hand and...</title><content type='html'>A man with a pegleg, hook hand and an eyepatch went to apply to be a pirate. &lt;p&gt; Interviewer:  How did you get that pegleg?   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Pirate:  Arrr.  I got me leg shot off during the first world war.      &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Interviewer:  How did you get that hook?   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Pirate:  I got me hand cut off by a big knife.     &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Interviewer:  What about your eyepatch?   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Pirate:  It was a rainy afternoon and I looked up into the sky and a bird crapped in me eye.    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Interviewer:  And that put your eye out?   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Pirate:  No, it was the day after I got me hook.                                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8899293800572199371?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8899293800572199371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8899293800572199371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8899293800572199371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8899293800572199371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/man-with-pegleg-hook-hand-and.html' title='A man with a pegleg, hook hand and...'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-246286681339045009</id><published>2008-03-26T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T05:08:03.589-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>The CIA had an opening for an assassin.</title><content type='html'>The CIA had an opening for an assassin. After all of the background checks, interviews, and testing were done there were three finalists — two men and one woman. For the final test, the CIA agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun. &lt;p&gt; “We must know that you will follow your instructions, no matter what the circumstances. Inside this room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. You have to kill her.” The first man said.“You can’t be serious. I could never shoot my wife,” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The agent replies, “Then you’re not the right man for this job."  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about five minutes. Then the agent came out with tears in his eyes. “I tried, but I can’t kill my wife.” The agent replies, “You don’t have what it takes. Take your wife and go home.” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Finally, it was the woman’s turn. Only she was told to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one shot after another. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the woman. She wiped the sweat from her brow and said, “You guys didn’t tell me the gun was loaded with blanks. So I had to beat him to death with the chair.” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-246286681339045009?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/246286681339045009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=246286681339045009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/246286681339045009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/246286681339045009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2008/03/cia-had-opening-for-assassin.html' title='The CIA had an opening for an assassin.'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1492294658702704580</id><published>2007-12-14T03:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T03:05:01.720-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy.com.my'/><title type='text'>Camels for a wife</title><content type='html'>A man and his wife are traveling in the Middle East. An Arab approaches the husband, saying, "I'll give you 100 camels for your woman."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long silence, the husband says, "She's not for sale."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The indignant wife says, "What took you so long to answer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband replied, "I was trying to figure out how to get 100 camels back home."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1492294658702704580?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1492294658702704580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1492294658702704580' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1492294658702704580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1492294658702704580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/camels-for-wife.html' title='Camels for a wife'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3653102742837449842</id><published>2007-12-14T03:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T03:02:37.999-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy.com.my'/><title type='text'>STOP at GREEN?</title><content type='html'>When do you stop at GREEN and go at RED?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're eating a watermelon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3653102742837449842?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3653102742837449842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3653102742837449842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3653102742837449842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3653102742837449842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/stop-at-green.html' title='STOP at GREEN?'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7394810600402346961</id><published>2007-12-14T02:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T02:59:56.149-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy.com.my'/><title type='text'>FBI FUNNY</title><content type='html'>The phone rings at FBI headquarters. "Hello?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm calling to report my neighbor. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you very much for the call sir," replied the dispatcher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, FBI agents sneak up on the neighbor's house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept.&lt;br /&gt;Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They yell at the neighbor and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone rings at the neighbor's house.&lt;br /&gt;Hey, Bill, did the FBI come?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure Did!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did they chop your firewood?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yep!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great, now it's your turn to call. I need my garden plowed!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7394810600402346961?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7394810600402346961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7394810600402346961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7394810600402346961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7394810600402346961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/fbi-funny.html' title='FBI FUNNY'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7733869540555755635</id><published>2007-12-14T02:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T02:57:49.172-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy.com.my'/><title type='text'>Yummy Peanuts</title><content type='html'>A tour bus driver has a bus full of senior citizens. As he's driving, the bus driver gets tapped on the shoulder by a little old lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She offers him a handful of peanuts, which he gratefully eats. After about 15 minutes, she taps him on his shoulder again and she hands him another handful of peanuts. She repeats this gesture about five more times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she is about to hand him another batch of peanuts, the bus driver asks the little old lady why she doesn't eat them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We can't chew them because we've got no teeth", she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the puzzled driver asks, "Why do you buy them then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little old lady replies, "We just love the chocolate around them!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7733869540555755635?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7733869540555755635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7733869540555755635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7733869540555755635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7733869540555755635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/yummy-peanuts.html' title='Yummy Peanuts'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7804016167747868682</id><published>2007-12-14T02:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T02:56:20.087-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy.com.my'/><title type='text'>Relationship</title><content type='html'>What do men consider a 50-50 relationship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cook, they eat! We clean, they dirty! We iron, they wrinkle!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7804016167747868682?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7804016167747868682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7804016167747868682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7804016167747868682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7804016167747868682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/relationship.html' title='Relationship'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8596731677905418822</id><published>2007-12-14T02:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T02:55:35.557-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy.com.my'/><title type='text'>Old Loving</title><content type='html'>An enormously wealthy 65-year-old man falls in love with a young woman&lt;br /&gt;in her twenties and is contemplating a proposal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you think she'd marry me if I tell her I'm 45?" he asked a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your chances are better," said the friend, "if you tell her you're&lt;br /&gt;90."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8596731677905418822?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8596731677905418822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8596731677905418822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8596731677905418822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8596731677905418822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/old-loving.html' title='Old Loving'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7071090550723061742</id><published>2007-12-01T07:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T08:04:51.977-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Don't leave 'em hangin'</title><content type='html'>Ralph and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital.  &lt;p&gt; One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool, Ralph suddenly jumped into the deep end. He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there. Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled Ralph out. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; When the Head Nurse became aware of Edna's heroic act she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now considered her to be mentally stable. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; When she went to tell Edna the news she said, "Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you're being discharged; since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of another patient, I have concluded that your act displays sound mindedness. The bad news is, Ralph, the patient you saved, hung himself with his bathrobe belt in the bathroom. I am so sorry, but he's dead." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Edna replied "He didn't hang himself. I put him there to dry. How soon can I go home?"                                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7071090550723061742?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7071090550723061742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7071090550723061742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7071090550723061742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7071090550723061742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/dont-leave-em-hangin.html' title='Don&apos;t leave &apos;em hangin&apos;'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7152525259461045678</id><published>2007-12-01T06:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T07:13:38.820-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Blond Father</title><content type='html'>A blond guy and a brunette girl were happily married and about to have a baby. One day, the wife started having contractions, so the husband rushed her to the hospital. He held her hand as she went through a trying birth. In the end, there were two little baby boys. &lt;p&gt; The blond guy turned to his wife and angrily said, "All right, who's the other father!?!"                                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7152525259461045678?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7152525259461045678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7152525259461045678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7152525259461045678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7152525259461045678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/blond-father.html' title='Blond Father'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-2737483751200467479</id><published>2007-12-01T06:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T06:23:33.246-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Railroad Redneck</title><content type='html'>Three railroad workers, a Chinese man, an Italian, and a redneck, are all sitting down to lunch. &lt;p&gt; The Chinese man says, "If I get another egg roll in my lunch, I'll kill myself." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The Italian guy says, "If I get another slice of pizza, I'll kill myself." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The redneck says, "Iffin I get another ham hock, I'll kill myself." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The next day, all three men get the same lunches, so they throw themselves in front of an oncoming train. At the funeral the Chinese man's wife says, "If only I hadn't packed an egg roll that day." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The Italian guy's wife says, "If only I hadn't packed a slice of pizza that day." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; "Don't look at me," says the redneck's wife. "He done packed his own vittles."                                                  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-2737483751200467479?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2737483751200467479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=2737483751200467479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2737483751200467479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2737483751200467479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/railroad-redneck.html' title='Railroad Redneck'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-548387763863679189</id><published>2007-12-01T05:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T06:02:20.171-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Trouble Sleeping</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;The woman seated herself in the psychiatrists office. "What seems to be the problem?" the doctor asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I, uh," she stammered. "I think I, uh, might be a nymphomaniac."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I see," he said. "I can help you, but I must advise you that my fee is $80 an hour."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not bad," she replied. "How much for all night?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-548387763863679189?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/548387763863679189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=548387763863679189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/548387763863679189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/548387763863679189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/trouble-sleeping.html' title='Trouble Sleeping'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8354334116751144497</id><published>2007-12-01T05:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T05:59:19.087-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fropki.com'/><title type='text'>Conversation between a husband and wife</title><content type='html'>A husband and wife are sitting quietly in bed reading when the Wife looks over at him and asks the question....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "What would you do if I died? Would you get married again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "Definitely not!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Why not? Don't you like being married?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "Of course I do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Then why wouldn't you remarry?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "Okay, okay, I'd get married again. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "You would?" (with a hurt look)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: (makes audible groan)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Would you live in our house?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "Sure, it's a great house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Would you sleep with her in our bed?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "Where else would we sleep?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Would you let her drive my car?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "Probably, it is almost new."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Would you replace my pictures with hers?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "That would seem like the proper thing to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Would you give her my jewelry?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "No, I'm sure she'd want her own."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: "Would she use my golf clubs?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "No, she's left-handed. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WIFE: -- silence --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUSBAND: "sheet.."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8354334116751144497?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8354334116751144497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8354334116751144497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8354334116751144497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8354334116751144497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/12/conversation-between-husband-and-wife.html' title='Conversation between a husband and wife'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8220948016786089636</id><published>2007-11-15T08:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T08:01:31.912-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Staying Fat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A little boy wakes up three nights in a row when he hears a thumping sound coming from his parents' bedroom. Finally, one morning he goes to his mom and says, "Mommy, every night I hear you and daddy making noise and when I look in you're bouncing up and down on him." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;His mom is taken by surprise and says. "Oh... well I'm bouncing on his stomach because he's fat and that makes him thin again."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The boy says, "That won't work."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;His mom says, "Why?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The boy replies. "Because the lady next door comes by after you leave each day and blows him back up!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8220948016786089636?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8220948016786089636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8220948016786089636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8220948016786089636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8220948016786089636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/staying-fat.html' title='Staying Fat'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1219536912833554055</id><published>2007-11-15T07:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:59:22.642-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Seeing The Panties</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;One day a little girl came running into her house yelling, "Mommy, I got five dollars!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The mother was curious, so she asked her child where she got the five dollars from.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The little girl replied, ''Tommy down the street gave me five dollars for doing cartwheel while he sat in the tree.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The mother told her daughter, "Don't you know that Tommy is just trying to see your panties."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;''OOOOhhhh'' said the little girl.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The next day the little girl came running into the house yelling, "Mommy, I got ten dollars. The mother asked, "Where did you get the ten dollars from?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The little girl replied, "Tommy down the street gave me ten dollars for doing a cartwheel while he sat up in the tree and laughed." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;The mother replied, "Didn't I tell you that he is...''  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Before the mother could finish, the little girl said, ''Wait Mommy. I tricked him, I didn't wear any panties today.'' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1219536912833554055?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1219536912833554055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1219536912833554055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1219536912833554055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1219536912833554055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/seeing-panties.html' title='Seeing The Panties'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-191339917992464536</id><published>2007-11-15T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:57:18.690-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>A bet made at the local bar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;A man walks into a bar, and as he makes his way to the counter, he stops and talks to everyone in the bar. As he finishes with each group of people, they all get up and leave and go stand outside the window, looking in. Finally, the bar is empty except for this guy and the bartender. The man walks up to the counter, and says to the bartender, "I bet you $1,000 that I can spray beer from my mouth into a shot glass from thirty feet away, and not get any outside the glass."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt; The bartender thinks that this guy is a nutcase, but he wants his $1,000, so he agrees. The bartender gets out a shot glass, paces off thirty feet, and the contest begins. The man sprays beer all over the bar. He doesn't even touch the shot glass. When he finishes, the bartender looks at him and says, "Well, I guess you owe me $1,000, huh?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt; The man answers, "Yeah, but I bet all of those people outside the window $500 a piece that I could come in here and spray beer all over the bar."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-191339917992464536?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/191339917992464536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=191339917992464536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/191339917992464536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/191339917992464536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/bet-made-at-local-bar.html' title='A bet made at the local bar'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5175670764138499953</id><published>2007-11-15T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:56:43.446-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Deep within a forest, a little turtle began to climb a tree. After hours of effort, he reached the top, jumped into the air waving his front legs and crashed to the ground. After recovering, he slowly climbed the tree again, jumped, and fell to the ground. The turtle tried again and again, while a couple of birds sitting on a branch watched his sad efforts. Finally, the female bird turned to her mate. "Dear," she chirped, "I think it's time to tell him he's adopted."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5175670764138499953?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5175670764138499953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5175670764138499953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5175670764138499953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5175670764138499953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/bad-news.html' title='Bad News'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3973676652841932731</id><published>2007-11-15T07:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:55:09.900-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Saving It</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;A priest was taking a shortcut through an alley one day and came upon a young boy who was masturbating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My son, you shouldn't be doing that," said the priest. "You should be saving that for when you get married." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The embarrassed boy hung his head down low and simply said, "Yes, Father." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 10 years later, the priest was in his study when a young man in his early twenties came in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, my son?" said the priest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Father, you may not remember me, but about 10 years ago you caught me masturbating in an alley, and I'll never forget the advice you gave then."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And what was that, my son?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you told me that what I was doing was wrong and I should be saving it for when I get married," said the young man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That sounds like something I probably would have said," said the priest. "Did you take my advice?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes I did, Father, but there's only one problem." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's that, my son?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I have a 55-gallon drum of the stuff in the back of my pickup truck. Now that I am getting married, what am I supposed to do with it?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3973676652841932731?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3973676652841932731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3973676652841932731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3973676652841932731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3973676652841932731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/saving-it.html' title='Saving It'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1224929063573707717</id><published>2007-11-15T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:52:15.110-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Ugly Face</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;Finding one of her students making faces at others on the playground, Ms.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;Smith stopped to gently reprove the child.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;Smiling sweetly, the Sunday School teacher said, Johnny, when I was a  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;child, I was told if that I made ugly faces, it would freeze and I would  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;stay like that.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;Johnny looked up and replied, Well, Ms. Smith, you cant say you werent  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;warned. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1224929063573707717?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1224929063573707717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1224929063573707717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1224929063573707717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1224929063573707717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/ugly-face.html' title='Ugly Face'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4152825981798425934</id><published>2007-11-15T07:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:50:37.738-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>A Neutron At A Bar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;A neutron walks into a bar. "I'd like a beer" he says.&lt;br /&gt;The bartender promptly serves up a beer.&lt;br /&gt;"How much will that be?" asks the neutron.&lt;br /&gt;"For you?" replies the bartender, "no charge" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4152825981798425934?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4152825981798425934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4152825981798425934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4152825981798425934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4152825981798425934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/neutron-at-bar.html' title='A Neutron At A Bar'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7650137674967806169</id><published>2007-11-15T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:47:58.813-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Reasons to allow drinking at work</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The below are valid reasons as to why drinking should be allowed at work. If you use them wisely, you may even be able to convince your boss into allowing alcohol.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It's an incentive to show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. It reduces stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. It leads to more honest communications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It reduces complaints about low pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. It cuts down on time off because you can work with a hangover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Employees tell management what they think, not what management wants to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. It helps save on heating costs in the winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. It encourages carpooling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Increases job satisfaction because if you have a bad job you don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. It eliminates vacations because people would rather come to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. It makes fellow employees look better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. It makes the cafeteria food taste better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Bosses are more likely to hand out raises when they are wasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Salary negotiations are a lot more profitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. If something does something stupid on the job, it will be quickly forgotten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7650137674967806169?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7650137674967806169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7650137674967806169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7650137674967806169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7650137674967806169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/reasons-to-allow-drinking-at-work.html' title='Reasons to allow drinking at work'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4573226925590215784</id><published>2007-11-15T07:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:43:49.450-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Associations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's the first day of kindergarten, and the teacher decides to do taste association. 'I'll blindfold you and give you a lifesaver, and you tell me what flavor it is,' she tells the children. So she gives them all a cherry flavor, and says, 'What flavor is that?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole class answers 'Mmmm, that's cherry.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Very good,' the teacher replies. So she gives them all a grape and they reply, 'Mmm, that's grape.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Very good,' she says again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she gives them all a honey flavor. The whole class sits perplexed by the strange taste, so the teacher says 'OK, I'll give you a hint, it's something your parents might call each other.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy spits his out on the floor and yells, 'Spit 'em out everyone, they're ASSHOLES!'  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4573226925590215784?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4573226925590215784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4573226925590215784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4573226925590215784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4573226925590215784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/associations.html' title='Associations'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5171709784266560194</id><published>2007-11-15T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:42:14.231-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Newly Issued Alcohol Warnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;The Toronto Board of Health has proposed that warning signs be placed on all alcohol bottles to tip off drinkers about the possible peril of drinking a pint or two of any alcoholic beverage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause you to wake up with a breath that could knock a buzzard off a wreaking dead animal that is one hundred yards away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. WARNING: Consumption of alcohol is a major factor in dancing like an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell the same boring story over and over again until your friends want to assault you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause you to thay shings like thish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell the boss what you really think of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. WARNING: Consumption of alcohol is the leading cause of inexplicable rug burn on the forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may create the illusion that you are tougher, handsomer and smarter than some really, really big guy named Psycho Bob.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5171709784266560194?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5171709784266560194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5171709784266560194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5171709784266560194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5171709784266560194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/newly-issued-alcohol-warnings.html' title='Newly Issued Alcohol Warnings'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-2752750478366929290</id><published>2007-11-15T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:38:58.505-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Happy Butt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;It was this little girl's first day of school and the teacher asked her what her name was and she replied, "Happy Butt." The teacher said, "Honey I don't think that's your name you need to go to the principal's office and get this straightened out." So she went to the principal's office and he asked, "What's your name?" And the little girl said, Happy Butt." The principal called the girl's mother to get this straightened out once and for all. After getting off the phone he looked at the little girl and said, "Honey, your name's is Gladys, not Happy Butt." The girl then exclaimed, "Glad Ass, Happy Butt" what's the difference?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-2752750478366929290?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2752750478366929290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=2752750478366929290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2752750478366929290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2752750478366929290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/happy-butt.html' title='Happy Butt'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-2554689224769265095</id><published>2007-11-15T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:27:24.098-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Forgive Me Sister</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;A cabbie picks up a nun. She gets into the cab, and the cab driver won't stop staring at her. She asks him why is he staring and he replies, "I have a question to ask you but I don't want to offend you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She answers, 'My dear son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun a long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She responds, "Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2 you must be Catholic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I am single and I'm Catholic too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nun says "OK, pull into the next alley."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does and the nun fulfills his fantasy. But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying. "My dear child, said the nun, why are you crying?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Forgive me sister, but I have sinned. I lied, I must confess, I'm married and I'm Jewish."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nun says, "That's OK, my name is Kevin and I'm on my way to a Halloween party."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-2554689224769265095?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2554689224769265095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=2554689224769265095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2554689224769265095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2554689224769265095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/forgive-me-sister.html' title='Forgive Me Sister'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1032969894683450343</id><published>2007-11-15T07:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:25:46.873-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>A nun arrives at the local bar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;John was sitting outside his local pub one day, enjoying a quiet pint and generally feeling good about himself, when a nun suddenly appears at his table and starts decrying the evils of drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You should be ashamed of yourself young man! Drinking is a Sin! Alcohol is the blood of the devil!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now John gets pretty annoyed about this, and goes on the offensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do you know this, Sister?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My Mother Superior told me so."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But have you ever had a drink yourself? How can you be sure that what you are saying is right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't be ridiculous--of course I have never taken alcohol myself"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then let me buy you a drink - if you still believe afterwards that it is evil I will give up drink for life"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How could I, a Nun, sit outside this public house drinking?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll get the barman to put it in a teacup for you, then no one will ever know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Nun reluctantly agrees, so John goes inside to the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another pint for me, and a triple vodka on the rocks", then he lowers his voice and says to the barman "and could you put the vodka in a teacup?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no! It's not that Nun again is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1032969894683450343?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1032969894683450343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1032969894683450343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1032969894683450343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1032969894683450343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/nun-arrives-at-local-bar.html' title='A nun arrives at the local bar'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1923342976543122146</id><published>2007-11-15T07:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:21:00.935-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Most Wanted</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Little Johnny's kindergarten class was on a field trip to the local police station, where they saw pictures of the 10 Most Wanted men tacked to a bulletin board. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;One of the youngsters pointed to a picture and asked if it really was the photo of a wanted person.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yes," said the policeman. "The detectives want him very badly."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;So Little Johnny asked, "Why didn't you keep him when you took his picture?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1923342976543122146?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1923342976543122146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1923342976543122146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1923342976543122146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1923342976543122146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/most-wanted.html' title='Most Wanted'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-5029213050511601689</id><published>2007-11-15T07:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:20:13.993-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Making A Bet At A Bar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:times new roman,helvetica;" &gt;Two guys were in a bar, and they were both watching the television when the news came on. It showed a guy on a bridge who was about to jump, obviously suicidal. "I'll bet you $10 he'll jump," said the first guy. "Bet you $10 he won't," said the second guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:times new roman,helvetica;" &gt; Then, the guy on the television closed his eyes and threw himself off the bridge. The second guy hands the first guy the money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:times new roman,helvetica;" &gt; "I can't take your money," said the first guy. "I cheated you. The same story was on the five o'clock news." "No, no. Take it," said the second guy. "I saw the five o'clock news too. I just didn't think the guy was dumb enough to jump again!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-5029213050511601689?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5029213050511601689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=5029213050511601689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5029213050511601689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/5029213050511601689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/making-bet-at-bar.html' title='Making A Bet At A Bar'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8438273218270580640</id><published>2007-11-15T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:10:11.115-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Career Path</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;An older couple had a son, who was still living with them. The parents were a little worried, as the son was still unable to decide about his career path, so they decided to do a small test. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;They took a ten-dollar bill, a Bible, and a bottle of whiskey, and put them on the front hall table. Then they hid, hoping he would think they weren't at home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;The father told the mother, "If he takes the money, he will be a businessman; if he takes the Bible, he will be a priest; but if he takes the bottle of whiskey, I'm afraid our son will be a drunkard." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;So the parents took their place in the nearby closet and waited nervously, peeping through the keyhole they saw their son arrive home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;He saw the note they had left, saying they'd be home later. Then, he took the 10-dollar bill, looked at it against the light, and slid it in his pocket. After that, he took the Bible, flicked through it, and took it also. Finally, he grabbed the bottle, opened it, and took an appreciative whiff to be assured of the quality, then he left for his room carrying all the three items. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;The father slapped his forehead, and said, "Damn! It's even worse than I ever imagined..."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;"What do you mean?" his wife inquired.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;" serif=""  &gt;"He's gonna be a politician." the father replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8438273218270580640?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8438273218270580640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8438273218270580640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8438273218270580640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8438273218270580640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/career-path.html' title='Career Path'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-473560765562161635</id><published>2007-11-15T07:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:07:37.477-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>New Borns</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;   A woman is in the hospital and just had twins, a boy and a girl. But no one is there with her except her brother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;   The nurse comes into the room after the delivery and says,"your brother has taken the liberty to name the children." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;   The new mother says,"Oh no. he probably gave them stupid names." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;   The nurse says,"The girls name is denise." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;  The mother says,"That's not bad, i like it. And the boys?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;   The nurse says,"The boys name is    De-nephew."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-473560765562161635?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/473560765562161635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=473560765562161635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/473560765562161635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/473560765562161635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-borns.html' title='New Borns'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4220070315855052279</id><published>2007-11-15T07:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:06:12.030-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>I'd Rather Have A Puppy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A little boy and his father are walking down the street, and they see two dogs having sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy asks his father, “Daddy, what are they doing?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The father says, “Making a puppy.” So they walk on and go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A few days later, the little boy walks in on his parents having sex. The little boy says, “Daddy, what are you doing?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The father replies, “Making a baby.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The little boy says, “Well, flip her around! I'd rather have a puppy.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4220070315855052279?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4220070315855052279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4220070315855052279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4220070315855052279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4220070315855052279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/id-rather-have-puppy.html' title='I&apos;d Rather Have A Puppy'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6726121335811369477</id><published>2007-11-15T07:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:04:50.321-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Nice Bike</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;On Christmas morning a cop on horseback is sitting at a traffic light, and next to him is a kid on his shiny new bike. The cop says to the kid, "Nice bike you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid replies, "Yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cop says, "Well, next year tell Santa to put a tail-light on that bike."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cop then proceeds to issue the kid a $20.00 bicycle safety violation ticket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid takes the ticket and before he rides off says, "By the way, that's a nice horse you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humoring the kid, the cop says, "Yeah, he sure did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid continued, "Well, next year tell Santa to put the dick underneath the horse, instead of on top."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6726121335811369477?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6726121335811369477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6726121335811369477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6726121335811369477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6726121335811369477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/nice-bike.html' title='Nice Bike'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3573271068539881416</id><published>2007-11-15T07:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:02:31.497-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Unfaithful Wives</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;                                                 Paddy and his two friends are talking at a bar.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; His first friend says: "I think my wife is having an affair with the electrician. The other day I came home and found wire cutters under our bed and they weren't mine." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; His second friend says: "I think my wife is having an affair with the plumber. The other day I found a wrench under the bed and it wasn't mine." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; Paddy says: "I think my wife is having an affair with a horse." Both his friends look at him with utter disbelief. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; "No, I'm serious. The other day I came home and found a jockey under our bed."                                                   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3573271068539881416?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3573271068539881416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3573271068539881416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3573271068539881416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3573271068539881416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/unfaithful-wives.html' title='Unfaithful Wives'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7057173292824802256</id><published>2007-11-15T06:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T07:00:47.872-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Singing Christmas Parrot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There was a man who wanted to find the perfect gift for his wife. He went to the store and asked the salesclerk and asked him what he should get his wife. The salesclerk brought out a parrot. The salesclerk said, this is no ordinary parrot, if you light a match under it's right foot, it plays Silent Night, if you light a match under it's left foot, it plays Santa Claus is Coming to Town. The salesclerk made sure to tell him that the name of the parrot is Chet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thought it would be great, so he took it home. He let his wife open it early, since it was a living thing. He told her what great songs it played. They wondered what it would play if they lit a match under it's crotch. So, they did. The parrot sang "Chet's Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7057173292824802256?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7057173292824802256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7057173292824802256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7057173292824802256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7057173292824802256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/singing-christmas-parrot.html' title='Singing Christmas Parrot'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1619768597209796980</id><published>2007-11-15T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T06:59:21.531-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Arriving Home Very Drunk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;A man is in a bar and falling off his stool every couple of minutes. He is obviously drunk. So the bartender says to another man in the bar: "Why don't you be a good Samaritan and take him home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt; The man takes the drunk out the door and to his car and he stumbles at least ten times. They drive along and the drunk points out his house to the man. He stops the car and the drunk stumbles up the steps to his house with the man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt; The drunk's wife greets them at the door: "Why thank you for bringing him home for me, but where's his wheel chair?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1619768597209796980?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1619768597209796980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1619768597209796980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1619768597209796980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1619768597209796980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/arriving-home-very-drunk.html' title='Arriving Home Very Drunk'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-591106065098326332</id><published>2007-11-15T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T06:57:37.112-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Buying A Horse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lil' Johnny attended a horse auction with his father. He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horses' legs, rump, and chest. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;After a few minutes, Johnny asked, "Pop, why are you doing that?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Because I'm thinking of buying these horses."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;Johnny looked worried, "Then I think we'd better hurry home right away!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Why?" his father asked.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Because the UPS man stopped by yesterday, and I think he wants to buy Mom!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-591106065098326332?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/591106065098326332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=591106065098326332' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/591106065098326332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/591106065098326332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/buying-horse.html' title='Buying A Horse'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-2563169704925481899</id><published>2007-11-15T06:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T06:55:34.365-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>A Masked Halloween Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A couple was invited to a swanky masked Halloween Party. She got a terrible headache and told her husband to go to the party alone. He, being a devoted husband, protested, but she argued and said she was going to take some aspirin and go to bed, and there was no need for his good time to be spoiled by not going. So he took his costume and away he went. The wife, after sleeping soundly for about an hour, awakened without pain; and, as it was still early, decided to go to the party after all. In as much as her husband didn't know what costume she'd be wearing, she thought she'd have some fun by watching her husband to see how he acted when she wasn't around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She joined the party and soon spotted her husband cavorting around on the dance floor, dancing with every chick he could, getting a little kiss here and a warm squeeze there. His wife went up to him and being rather seductive herself, he left his current partner high and dry and devoted his time to this new babe who had just arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She let him do whatever he wished, naturally, since he was her husband. Finally he whispered a little proposition in her ear and she agreed, so off they went to one of the cars and they did it all! Zowie! Just before unmasking at midnight, she slipped away and went home, put the costume away and got into bed, wondering what kind of explanation he would have for his behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was sitting up reading when he came in. She asked how the evening had been? He said "Oh, the same old thing. You know, I never have a good time when you're not there." Then she asked, "Did you dance much?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "You know, I didn't dance even one dance. When I got there, I met Pete, Bill Brown and some other guys, so we went into the den and played poker all evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll tell you...from what I heard, the guy I loaned my costume to, sure had a real good time!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-2563169704925481899?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2563169704925481899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=2563169704925481899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2563169704925481899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2563169704925481899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/masked-halloween-party.html' title='A Masked Halloween Party'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8887468439919390291</id><published>2007-11-15T06:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T06:52:20.050-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aha Jokes'/><title type='text'>Who can say this sentence?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;The Taco Bell Chihuahua, a Doberman and a Bulldog are in a bar having adrink when a great-looking female Collie comes up to them and says, "Whoever can say liver and cheese in a sentence can have me." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt; So the Doberman says, "I love liver and cheese." The Collie replies, "That's not good enough." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt; The Bulldog says, "I hate liver and cheese." She says, "That's not creative enough." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt; Finally, the Chihuahua says, "Liver alone . . . cheese mine." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8887468439919390291?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8887468439919390291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8887468439919390291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8887468439919390291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8887468439919390291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/who-can-say-this-sentence.html' title='Who can say this sentence?'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-1192065525930599424</id><published>2007-11-15T06:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T06:51:06.925-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokesgallery.com'/><title type='text'>Brave Cursing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span serif=""   style="font-family:Verdana,;font-size:85%;"&gt;A 6-year-old and a 4-year-old are upstairs in their bedroom. "You know what?" says the 6-year-old. "I think it's about time we start cursing." The 4-year-old nods his head in approval. The 6-year-old continues. "When we go downstairs for breakfast I'm going to say hell and you say ass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK!" The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6-year-old what he wants for breakfast. "Aw hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear every step. The mom locks him in his room and shouts "You can just stay there till I let you out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4-year-old, and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast young man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know," he blubbers, "But you can bet your ass it won't be Cheerios!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-1192065525930599424?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1192065525930599424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=1192065525930599424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1192065525930599424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/1192065525930599424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/brave-cursing.html' title='Brave Cursing'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6270234097801627749</id><published>2007-11-15T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T06:50:08.783-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comedy Central'/><title type='text'>Golf Genie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A husband and wife, out enjoying a round of golf, were about to tee off on the third hole, which was lined with beautiful homes. The wife hit her shot and the ball began to slice - her shot was headed directly at a very large plate glass window. Much to her surprise, the ball smashed through the window and shattered it into a million pieces. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;They felt compelled to see what damage was done and drove off to see what happened. When they peeked inside the house, they found no one there. The husband called out and no one answered. Upon further investigation, they saw a small gentleman sitting on the couch with a turban on his head. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; The wife asked the man, "Do you live here?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"No, someone just hit a ball through the window, knocked over the vase you see there, freeing me from that little bottle. I am so grateful!" he answered. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; The husband asked, "Are you a genie?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Oh, why, yes I am. In fact, I am so grateful I will grant you two wishes, and the third I will keep for myself," the man replied. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The husband and wife agreed on two wishes - one was for a scratch handicap for the husband, to which the wife readily agreed. The other was for an income of $1,000,000 per year forever. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; The genie nodded his head and said, "Done!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The genie now said, "For my wish, I would like to have my way with your wife. I have not been with a woman for many years, and after all, I made you a scratch golfer and a millionaire." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; The husband and wife agreed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; After the genie and wife were finished, the genie asked the wife, "How long have you been married?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; To which she responded, "Three years." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; The genie then asked, "How old is your husband?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; To which she replied, "31 years old." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt; The genie then asked, "And how long has he believed in this genie crap?"                                                  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6270234097801627749?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6270234097801627749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6270234097801627749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6270234097801627749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6270234097801627749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/golf-genie.html' title='Golf Genie'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3180307608632268680</id><published>2007-11-15T05:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T05:09:00.867-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes2go.com'/><title type='text'>Goy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;pre style="font-family: verdana; color: black;"&gt;Moshe Rabbinowitz decides to join the country club near his home. He goes&lt;br /&gt;in and is turned down flat because he does not meet their "standards."  So&lt;br /&gt;he enrolls in the finest schools to learn the art of being culturally&lt;br /&gt;rich. Moshe learns to cook the finest of foods, appreciate the best art,&lt;br /&gt;drive the best car, wear the classiest suits, etc. He even hires Professor&lt;br /&gt;Henry Higgins to educate him in the proper speech and behavior.&lt;br /&gt;The big day arrives.  Martin James Roget arrives at the country club for&lt;br /&gt;his interview.&lt;br /&gt;  "Tea?" the interviewer asks.&lt;br /&gt;  "Earl Grey, hot please."&lt;br /&gt;  "Hobbies?"&lt;br /&gt;  "Polo, racket ball, hunting."&lt;br /&gt;  "Religion?"&lt;br /&gt;  "Goy."&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3180307608632268680?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3180307608632268680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3180307608632268680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3180307608632268680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3180307608632268680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/11/goy.html' title='Goy?'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7500513700241503534</id><published>2007-10-18T08:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T08:12:43.078-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Free Drinks and more</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A Polak, an Italian and an Irishman got out of work and were deciding where to go for a drink. The Irishman said "Let's all go to O'Learys. With every third round, the bartender will give each of us a free Guiness."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Italian said "That sounds good, but if we go to Baldini's with every third round they bring a free bottle of wine to the table."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Polak said "That sounds fine but if we go to Kowalski's we drink for free all night and then go out into the parking lot and get laid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That sounds to good to be true!" the Irishman exclaimed. "Have you actually been there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," the Polak replied, "but my wife goes there all the time."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7500513700241503534?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7500513700241503534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7500513700241503534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7500513700241503534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7500513700241503534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/free-drinks-and-more.html' title='Free Drinks and more'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-4725410258374185711</id><published>2007-10-18T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T08:11:37.046-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Crunchy bird</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Hey, bartender," says a customer, sitting at the bar. "What kind of bird is that sitting on the perch?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," says Bob the bartender, "that's a Crunchy Bird!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I never heard of a Crunchy Bird," says the patron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just watch," says Bob. He takes a newspaper off the bar and throws it down on the floor, then he turns to the bird and says, "Crunchy Bird, my paper!" The bird swoops down and attacks the newspaper. He rips it to shreds until there's nothing left but tiny pieces of confetti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow," says the customer, "can I try?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be my guest," the bartender replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The customer takes off his shoe and puts it on the bar and says, "Crunchy Bird, my shoe!" The bird flies down off the perch and picks the shoe up with his beak. He slams the shoe down on the bar and starts attacking it. In no time, the shoe is reduced to nothing but a few pieces of leather and a shoelace. Then the bird flies back to his perch behind the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a tough looking guy walks into the bar. He yells, "Gimme a drink NOW!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks around the bar snarling and yells at the patrons, "What the Hell are you clowns looking at?" The bar is completely silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the bully notices the bird and says, "What the Hell kind of stupid looking bird is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's a Crunchy Bird," says bartender Bob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tough guy laughs and yells, "Crunchy Bird, my eye!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-4725410258374185711?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4725410258374185711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=4725410258374185711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4725410258374185711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/4725410258374185711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/crunchy-bird.html' title='Crunchy bird'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6017606189140598232</id><published>2007-10-18T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T08:10:17.220-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Ball squeezer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Two drunks went into a bar and had a few beers. One got up and went into the bathroom while the other remained at the bar talking to the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden there was a loud scream coming from the bathroom. The drunk at the bar said to the bartender that it sounded like his partner screaming, so he went into the bathroom to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went inside and asked his friend what the problem was. His friend said that everytime he flushed the toilet something reached up and squeezed his balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His friend shook his head and said, "You dumbass, you're sitting on the mop bucket!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6017606189140598232?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6017606189140598232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6017606189140598232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6017606189140598232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6017606189140598232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/ball-squeezer.html' title='Ball squeezer'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3772697108202736654</id><published>2007-10-18T08:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T08:08:47.382-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Looking for my car</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A drunken man was wondering around the parking lot of a bar, bumping into then rubbing the roofs of the cars. The manager comes out of the bar and stops the guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the heck are you doing ?" he asks the drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm looking for my car, and I can't find it." he replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So how does feeling the roof help you ?" asks the puzzled manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well," replies the drunk earnestly, "MY car has two blue lights and a siren on the roof!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3772697108202736654?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3772697108202736654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3772697108202736654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3772697108202736654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3772697108202736654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/looking-for-my-car.html' title='Looking for my car'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-6319272383743837277</id><published>2007-10-18T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T08:07:20.766-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>A professional gambler</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;During the Great Depression, there was a man who walked into a bar one day. He went up to the bartender and said, "Bartender, I'd like to buy the house a round of drinks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender said, "That's fine, but we're in the middle of the Depression, so I'll need to see some money first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy pulled out a huge wad of bills and set them on the bar. The bartender can't believe what he's seeing. "Where did you get all that money?" asked the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a professional gambler," replied the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender said, "There's no such thing! I mean, your odds are fifty-fifty at best, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I only bet on sure things," said the guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like what?" asked the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, for example, I'll bet you fifty dollars that I can bite my right eye," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender thought about it. "Okay," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the guy pulled out his false right eye and bit it. "Aw, you screwed me," said the bartender, and paid the guy his $50.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll give you another chance. I'll bet you another fifty dollars that I can bite my left eye," said the stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender thought again and said, "Well, I know you're not blind, I mean, I watched you walk in here. I'll take that bet." So, the guy pulled out his false teeth and bit his left eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aw, you screwed me again!" protested the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's how I win so much money, bartender. I'll just take a bottle of your best scotch in lieu of the fifty dollars," said the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, the guy went to the back room and spent the better part of the night playing cards with some of the locals. After many hours of drinking and card playing, he stumbled up to the bar. Drunk as a skunk, he said, "Bartender, I'll give you one last chance. I'll bet you five hundred dollars that I can stand on this bar on one foot and piss into that whiskey bottle on that shelf behind you without spilling a drop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender once again pondered the bet. The guy couldn't even stand up straight on two feet, much less one. "Okay, you're on," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy climbed up on the bar, stood on one leg, and began pissing all over the place. He hit the bar, the bartender, himself, but not a drop made it into the whiskey bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender was ecstatic. Laughing, the bartender said, "Hey pal, you owe me five hundred dollars!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy climbed down off the bar and said, "That's okay. I just bet each of the guys in the card room a thousand bucks each that I could piss all over you and the bar and still make you laugh!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-6319272383743837277?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6319272383743837277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=6319272383743837277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6319272383743837277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/6319272383743837277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/professional-gambler.html' title='A professional gambler'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-8748820022495952632</id><published>2007-10-18T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T08:05:03.607-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Twenty Push-ups</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A drunk staggers into a bar demanding a beer. The bartender informed him that he was not allowed to serve alcohol to drunken patrons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few harsh words, the bartender suggested to the drunk to prove he wasn't drunk by doing twenty push-ups on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he was doing the push-ups, another drunk staggers into the bar and sees this guy on the floor doing push-ups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks at him for a minute and then kicks him in the ribs saying, "Fella, I think your girl friend has gone home."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-8748820022495952632?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8748820022495952632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=8748820022495952632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8748820022495952632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/8748820022495952632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/twenty-push-ups.html' title='Twenty Push-ups'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-3017232242708661719</id><published>2007-10-18T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T08:01:30.405-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>A lake made of beer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Two men were out fishing, when they found a lamp floating in the water. One of the men picked it up and rubbed it, causing a genie to explode from the lamp. Unfortunately, it was a very low-level genie and could only grant one wish. The men thought for a few minutes and then wished for the entire lake to be made of the best beer in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a poof! the wish was granted. All of a sudden, one of the men got really angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dammit! Now we have to piss in the boat!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-3017232242708661719?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3017232242708661719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=3017232242708661719' title='39 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3017232242708661719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/3017232242708661719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/lake-made-of-beer.html' title='A lake made of beer'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>39</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-2375479449295725540</id><published>2007-10-18T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T07:59:11.726-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>The morning after</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Bob woke up after the annual office Christmas party with a pounding headache, cotton-mouthed and utterly unable to recall the events of the preceding evening. After a trip to the bathroom, he made his way downstairs, where his wife put some coffee in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Louise," he moaned, "tell me what happened last night. Was it as bad as I think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Even worse," she said, her voice oozing scorn. "You made a complete ass of yourself. You succeeded in antagonizing the entire board of directors and you insulted the president of the company, right to his face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's an idiot," Bob said. "Piss on him!"   "You did," came the reply.  "And he fired you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, screw him!" said Bob. "I did. You're back at work on Monday."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-2375479449295725540?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2375479449295725540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=2375479449295725540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2375479449295725540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/2375479449295725540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/morning-after.html' title='The morning after'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-187806976622432904</id><published>2007-10-18T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T07:57:15.520-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>It opens at noon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;At 3 AM a desk clerk at a hotel gets a call from a drunk guy asking what time the bar opens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It opens at noon" answers the clerk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour later he gets a call from the same guy, sounding even drunker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What time does the bar open?" he asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Same time as before... Noon." replies the clerk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another hour passes and he calls again, plastered "Whatjoo shay the bar opins at?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clerk then answers, "It opens at noon, but if you can't wait, I can have room service send something up to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No... I don't wanna git in... Ah wanna git OUT!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-187806976622432904?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/187806976622432904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=187806976622432904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/187806976622432904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/187806976622432904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/it-opens-at-noon.html' title='It opens at noon'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747704254750586964.post-7990318816833296768</id><published>2007-10-18T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T07:53:19.379-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the-jokes.com'/><title type='text'>Martooni</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A lady walks into a bar and says,&lt;br /&gt;"Barkeep, gimme a martooni." The bartender goes back and fixes her a martini. She downs it and says, "Barkeep, gimme another martooni."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he goes back and fixes her another martini. She downs that, and just sits there and doesn't say anything. Finally after about 10 minutes bartender says, "Would you like another?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says, "Oh, no, I got this terrible heartburn."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "Okay, there are three things wrong here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 1: It's martini, not martooni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 2: It's bartender, not barkeep, and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 3: You're not having heartburn, your boob's in the ash tray."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4747704254750586964-7990318816833296768?l=dianacsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7990318816833296768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4747704254750586964&amp;postID=7990318816833296768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7990318816833296768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4747704254750586964/posts/default/7990318816833296768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianacsy.blogspot.com/2007/10/martooni.html' title='Martooni'/><author><name>Diana Chew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16953938325776588950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
