<?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-1570711455739186004</id><updated>2012-01-31T14:07:34.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bob's Joke Page</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>445</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3691413405688301448</id><published>2011-02-25T22:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T00:45:29.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY</title><content type='html'>behind every great forture is a crime.&lt;br /&gt;-- Honore' Balzac&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when the cat and the mouse agree -- the grocer is ruined.&lt;br /&gt;-- Persian proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of the worse things in life that can happen is to&lt;br /&gt;win a bet on a horse at an early age.&lt;br /&gt;-- Danny McGoorty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was a boy, i was told anyone could become president.&lt;br /&gt;and now i'm beginning to believe it.&lt;br /&gt;-- Clarence Darrow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3691413405688301448?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3691413405688301448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3691413405688301448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3691413405688301448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3691413405688301448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/thoughts-for-day_25.html' title='THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4562611338395641428</id><published>2011-02-25T22:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T22:22:45.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MARRIAGE</title><content type='html'>Sometimes Marriage is like a deck of cards...&lt;br /&gt;In the beginning all you need is two hearts and a diamond.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;By the end...&lt;br /&gt;you'll wish you had a club and a spade!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4562611338395641428?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4562611338395641428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4562611338395641428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4562611338395641428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4562611338395641428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/marriage.html' title='MARRIAGE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3585432429937210724</id><published>2011-02-25T22:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T22:19:16.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SMART DOGS</title><content type='html'>One day an old German Shepherd starts chasing rabbits and before long, discovers that he's lost. Wandering about, he notices a panther heading rapidly in his direction with the intention of having lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old German Shepherd thinks, "Oh, oh! I'm in deep s*** now!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noticing some bones on the ground close by, he immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the panther is about to leap, the old German Shepherd exclaims loudly, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Boy, that was one delicious panther! I wonder, if there are any more around here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing this, the young panther halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whew!," says the panther, "That was close! That old German Shepherd nearly had me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, a squirrel who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the panther. So, off he goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The squirrel soon catches up with the panther, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the panther..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young panther is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here, squirrel, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the old German Shepherd sees the panther coming with the squirrel on his back and thinks, "What am I going to do now?," but instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old German Shepherd says...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's that squirrel? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another panther!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of this story... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't mess with the old dogs... Age and skill will always overcome youth and treachery! &lt;br /&gt;BS and brilliance only come with age and experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't send this to five 'old' friends right away, there will be five fewer people laughing in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I am in no way insinuating that you are old, just 'youthfully challenged'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You did notice the size of the print, didn't you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3585432429937210724?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3585432429937210724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3585432429937210724&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3585432429937210724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3585432429937210724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/smart-dogs.html' title='SMART DOGS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1087235122492004572</id><published>2011-02-21T02:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T02:24:15.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MAID'S RAISE</title><content type='html'>The Mexican maid asked for a pay increase. The wife was very upset &lt;br /&gt; about this and decided to talk to her about the raise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        She asked: "Now Maria, why do you want a pay increase?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Maria: "Well, Señora, there are tree reasons why I wanna increaze." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        "The first is that I iron better than you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Wife: "Who said you iron better than me?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Maria: "Jor huzban he say so." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Wife: "Oh yeah?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Maria: "The second reason eez that I am a better cook than  you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Wife: "Nonsense, who said you were a better cook than me?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Maria: "Jor hozban did." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Wife increasingly agitated: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        "Oh he did did he???" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Maria: "The third reason is that I am better at sex than you in the &lt;br /&gt;        bed." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Wife, really boiling now and through gritted teeth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        "And did my husband say that as well?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Maria: "No Señora......." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        "The gardener did." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Wife: "So how much do you  want?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1087235122492004572?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1087235122492004572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1087235122492004572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1087235122492004572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1087235122492004572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/maids-raise.html' title='THE MAID&apos;S RAISE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-816664392910343287</id><published>2011-02-21T02:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T02:21:28.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TWO QUICKIES</title><content type='html'>One day, a man came home and was greeted &lt;br /&gt; by his wife dressed in a very Sexy nightie. &lt;br /&gt; 'Tie me up,' she purred, 'and &lt;br /&gt; you can do anything you want.' &lt;br /&gt; So he tied her up and  went Golfing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=====================================================&lt;br /&gt; A woman came home, screeching her car &lt;br /&gt; into the driveway, and ran into the house. She slammed the door and &lt;br /&gt; shouted at the top of her lungs, &lt;br /&gt; 'Honey, pack your bags. I won the lottery!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The husband said, 'Oh my God! What should &lt;br /&gt; I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?' &lt;br /&gt; 'Doesn't matter,' she said. 'Just get out!!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-816664392910343287?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/816664392910343287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=816664392910343287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/816664392910343287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/816664392910343287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/two-quickies.html' title='TWO QUICKIES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8809912167514671452</id><published>2011-02-21T02:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T02:16:15.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BILLY BOB'S BARN</title><content type='html'>Cletus is passing by Billy Bob's hay barn one day when, through a gap in the door he sees Billy Bob doing a slow and sensual striptease in front of an old green John Deere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buttocks clenched, he performs a slow pirouette, and gently slides off first the right strap of his overalls, followed by the left. He then hunches his shoulders forward and in a classic striptease move, lets his overalls fall down to his hips, revealing a torn and frayed plaid shirt. &lt;br /&gt;Then, grabbing both sides of his shirt, he rips it apart to reveal his stained T-shirt underneath. With a final flourish, he tears the T-shirt from his body, and hurls his baseball cap onto a pile of hay. &lt;br /&gt;Having seen enough, Cletus rushes in and says, "What the heck are you doing, Billy Bob?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jeez, Cletus, ya scared the bejeezers out of me," says an obviously embarrassed Billy Bob. "Well me'n the Ol' Lady been havin' trouble lately in the bedroom d'partment, and the therapist suggested I do "something sexy to a tractor"."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8809912167514671452?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8809912167514671452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8809912167514671452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8809912167514671452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8809912167514671452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/billy-bobs-barn.html' title='BILLY BOB&apos;S BARN'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1091905130977015538</id><published>2011-02-06T00:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T00:05:18.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY</title><content type='html'>Tell the truth and run.&lt;br /&gt;-- Yugoslavian proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not insult the mother alligator until&lt;br /&gt;after you have crossed the river.&lt;br /&gt;-- Hatian proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too clever is dumb.&lt;br /&gt;-- German proverb&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1091905130977015538?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1091905130977015538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1091905130977015538&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1091905130977015538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1091905130977015538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/thoughts-for-day.html' title='THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1247352192081637093</id><published>2011-02-05T23:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T00:01:20.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NORTH DAKOTA WEATHER</title><content type='html'>I just got off the phone with a friend living in northern North Dakota near the Canadian border. He said that since early this morning the snow has been nearly waist high and is still falling.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;The temperature is dropping way below zero and the north wind is increasing to near gale force.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;His wife has done nothing but look through the kitchen window and just stare.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He says that if it gets much worse, he may have to let her in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1247352192081637093?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1247352192081637093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1247352192081637093&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1247352192081637093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1247352192081637093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/north-dakota-weather.html' title='NORTH DAKOTA WEATHER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1636858039920517794</id><published>2011-02-05T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T23:57:59.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ASSORTED FUNNIES</title><content type='html'>I got fired on my first day as a male masseuse today.. Apparently the instruction 'finish off on her face' didn't mean what I thought it did.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fat girl served me food in McDonald's at lunch time. She said 'sorry about the wait.' I said 'don't worry Chubby, you're bound to lose it eventually.'  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow in the forecast!  The TV weather gal said she was expecting 8 inches tonight, I thought to myself "fat chance with a face like that!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new pick up line that works every time. It doesn't matter how gorgeous or out of my league a woman might be, this line is a winner &amp; I always end up in bed with them. Here's how it goes... 'Excuse me love, could I ask your opinion? Does this damp cloth smell like chloroform to you?'  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago it was suggested that an apple a day kept the doctor away. But since almost all the doctors are now Muslim, I've found that a bacon sandwich works best!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1636858039920517794?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1636858039920517794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1636858039920517794&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1636858039920517794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1636858039920517794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/assorted-funnies.html' title='ASSORTED FUNNIES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6188532777231131708</id><published>2011-02-05T23:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T23:55:08.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MOVIE TEST</title><content type='html'>This amazing math quiz can likely predict which of 18 films you would enjoy&lt;br /&gt;the most. Don't ask how. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick a number from 1-9.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multiply by 3.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add 3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multiply by 3 again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now add the two digits together to find your predicted favorite movie in the&lt;br /&gt;list of 18 movies below. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine was "Titanic" - exactly right! So be honest, and do it before you&lt;br /&gt;scroll down to see the list below. It's easy and it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now look up your number in the list below...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Gone With The Wind &lt;br /&gt;  2. E.T. &lt;br /&gt;  3.  Beverly Hills   Cop &lt;br /&gt;  4. Star Wars &lt;br /&gt;  5. Forrest Gump &lt;br /&gt;  6. The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly &lt;br /&gt;  7. Jaws &lt;br /&gt;  8. Grease &lt;br /&gt;  9. The Joy of Anal Sex With A Goat &lt;br /&gt; 10.  Casablanca    &lt;br /&gt; 11.  Jurassic   Park   &lt;br /&gt; 12. Shrek &lt;br /&gt; 13. Pirates of the  Caribbean    &lt;br /&gt; 14. Titanic &lt;br /&gt; 15. Raiders Of The Lost  Ark    &lt;br /&gt; 16. Home Alone &lt;br /&gt; 17. Mrs. Doubtfire &lt;br /&gt; 18. Toy Story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  It is really amazing, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6188532777231131708?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6188532777231131708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6188532777231131708&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6188532777231131708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6188532777231131708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/02/movie-test.html' title='THE MOVIE TEST'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8339774129728685598</id><published>2011-01-25T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T23:45:14.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY</title><content type='html'>The money is always there -- it just changes pockets.&lt;br /&gt;-- Gertrude Stein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My problem lies in reconciling my gross habits &lt;br /&gt;with my net income.&lt;br /&gt;-- Errol Flynn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wages of sin are un-reported.&lt;br /&gt;-- Anon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8339774129728685598?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8339774129728685598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8339774129728685598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8339774129728685598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8339774129728685598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/thoughts-for-day_25.html' title='THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1854960344250739586</id><published>2011-01-25T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T23:39:13.261-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BEDROOM PHOTOS</title><content type='html'>After a long night of making love,&lt;br /&gt;  the guy  notices a photo of another&lt;br /&gt;  man, on the woman's  nightstand by&lt;br /&gt;  the bed.  He begins to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'Is this your husband?' he nervously asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'No, silly,' she replies, snuggling up to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'Your boyfriend, then?' he continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'No, not at all,' she says, nibbling&lt;br /&gt;  away at his  ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'Is it your dad or your brother?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  he inquires, hoping to be reassured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'No, no, no! You are so hot when you're jealous!'&lt;br /&gt;  she answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'Well, who in the hell is he, then?' &lt;br /&gt;  he demands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She whispers in his ear&lt;br /&gt;  'That's me before the surgery....'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1854960344250739586?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1854960344250739586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1854960344250739586&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1854960344250739586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1854960344250739586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/bedroom-photos.html' title='BEDROOM PHOTOS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3143629342029888591</id><published>2011-01-25T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T23:18:17.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OVER 40 TIPS</title><content type='html'>My memory's not as sharp as it used to be. &lt;br /&gt;Also, my memory's not as sharp as it used to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know how to prevent sagging? &lt;br /&gt;  Just eat till the wrinkles fill out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's scary when you start making the same noises &lt;br /&gt;  as your coffee maker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3143629342029888591?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3143629342029888591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3143629342029888591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3143629342029888591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3143629342029888591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/over-40-tips.html' title='OVER 40 TIPS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-223679157651817311</id><published>2011-01-25T00:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T00:38:15.649-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CHOOSING A WIFE</title><content type='html'>A man wanted to get married. He was having trouble choosing among three likely candidates. He gives each woman a present of $5,000 and watches to see what they do with the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first does a total makeover. She goes to a fancy beauty salon, gets her hair done, new makeup; buys several new outfits and dresses up very nicely for the man. She tells him that she has done this to be more attractive for him because she loves him so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man was impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second goes shopping to buy the man gifts. She gets him a new set of golf clubs, some new gizmos for his computer, and some expensive clothes. As she presents these gifts, she tells him that she has spent all the money on him because she loves him so much..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, the man is impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third invests the money in the stock market She earns several times the $5,000. She gives him back his $5,000 and reinvests the remainder in a joint account. She tells him that she wants to save for their future because she loves him so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, the man was impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thought for a long time about what each woman had done with the money he'd given her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he married the one with the biggest boobs!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-223679157651817311?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/223679157651817311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=223679157651817311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/223679157651817311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/223679157651817311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/choosing-wife.html' title='CHOOSING A WIFE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-2347330215704569999</id><published>2011-01-25T00:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T00:34:36.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SIMPLE HOME REMEDIES</title><content type='html'>(HEY, THIS IS A joke page, remember!! do&lt;strong&gt; NOT &lt;/strong&gt;try these yourself!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. AVOID CUTTING YOURSELF WHEN  SLICING VEGETABLES BY GETTING SOMEONE ELSE  TO  HOLD  THE VEGETABLES  WHILE  YOU CHOP.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;2. AVOID ARGUMENTS WITH THE FEMALES ABOUT LIFTING  THE TOILET SEAT BY USING THE SINK.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;3. FOR HIGH BLOOD  PRESSURE SUFFERERS ~ SIMPLY CUT YOURSELF AND BLEED FOR  A  FEW  MINUTES, THUS REDUCING THE PRESSURE ON YOUR VEINS. REMEMBER TO USE  A  TIMER.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;4.  A MOUSE TRAP PLACED ON TOP OF YOUR ALARM CLOCK WILL PREVENT YOU  FROM ROLLING OVER AND GOING BACK TO SLEEP AFTER YOU HIT THE SNOOZE  BUTTON.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;5. IF YOU HAVE A BAD COUGH, TAKE A LARGE DOSE OF  LAXATIVES. THEN YOU'LL BE AFRAID TO COUGH.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;6.. YOU ONLY  NEED TWO TOOLS IN LIFE - WD-40 AND DUCT TAPE.. IF IT DOESN'T MOVE  AND SHOULD, USE THE WD-40. IF IT SHOULDN'T MOVE AND DOES, USE THE  DUCT TAPE.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;7. IF YOU CAN'T FIX IT WITH A HAMMER, YOU'VE GOT  AN ELECTRICAL PROBLEM.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-2347330215704569999?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/2347330215704569999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=2347330215704569999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2347330215704569999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2347330215704569999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/simple-home-remedies.html' title='SIMPLE HOME REMEDIES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-2271611841185000175</id><published>2011-01-25T00:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T00:30:55.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TSA STATISTICS</title><content type='html'>Year-to-date statistics on Airport pat-down screening from the TSA*&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Terrorist Plots Discovered 0*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transvestites 133*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hernias 1,485*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hemorrhoid Cases 3,172*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incontinence 6,418*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enlarged Prostates 8,249*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breast Implants 59,350*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natural Blondes 3*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-2271611841185000175?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/2271611841185000175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=2271611841185000175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2271611841185000175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2271611841185000175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/tsa-statistics.html' title='TSA STATISTICS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8212543711465975391</id><published>2011-01-24T00:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T00:01:44.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MY PATRIOTIC BOOK</title><content type='html'>hey check out my book of America's unique patriotic heritage.&lt;br /&gt;all the great songs, poems, and speeches.&lt;br /&gt;NOBODY has a history like America does!!&lt;br /&gt;just click on the first link above to go to the page.&lt;br /&gt;you can order right on line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;www.MyPatrioticBook.Blogspot.com &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and here i am on YouTube being interviewed about it. hey, i'm a star on YouTube!! &lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/viralpublicity#p/u/13/lDYVv9p37so&lt;br /&gt;(wish i knew how to post this correctly to make it work!!) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8212543711465975391?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8212543711465975391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8212543711465975391&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8212543711465975391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8212543711465975391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-patriotic-book_24.html' title='MY PATRIOTIC BOOK'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8419535404292487196</id><published>2011-01-22T23:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T23:24:53.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HILLBILLY VACATION</title><content type='html'>Billy Bob and Luther were talking one afternoon when Billy Bob tells Luther,&lt;br /&gt;"Ya know, I reckon I'm 'bout ready for a vacation. Only this year I'm gonna do it a little different. The last few years, I took your advice about where to go. Three years ago you said to go to Hawaii . I went to Hawaii and Earline got pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;Then two years ago, you told me to go to the Bahamas , and Earline got pregnant again.&lt;br /&gt;Last year you suggested Tahiti and darned if Earline didn't get pregnant again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Luther asks Billy Bob, "So, what you gonna do this year that's different?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Billy Bob says, "This year I'm taking Earline with me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8419535404292487196?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8419535404292487196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8419535404292487196&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8419535404292487196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8419535404292487196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/hillbilly-vacation.html' title='HILLBILLY VACATION'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-5533263646270132444</id><published>2011-01-22T23:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T23:24:18.987-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY</title><content type='html'>if God had meant for us to have group sex,&lt;br /&gt;He'd have given us more organs.&lt;br /&gt;-- Malcolm Bradbury&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he's such a hick he doesn't even have a &lt;br /&gt;trapeze in his bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;-- anon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-5533263646270132444?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/5533263646270132444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=5533263646270132444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/5533263646270132444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/5533263646270132444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/thoughts-for-day_22.html' title='THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8263276752087440280</id><published>2011-01-22T23:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T23:18:22.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE FARMER</title><content type='html'>A farmer was selling his peaches door to door. He knocked on a door and &lt;br /&gt;a shapely 30-something woman dressed in a very sheer negligee answered &lt;br /&gt;the door. He raised his basket to show her the peaches and asked, &lt;br /&gt;"Would you like to buy some peaches?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pulled the top of the negligee to one side and asked, "Are they as &lt;br /&gt;firm as this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He nodded his head and said, "Yes ma'am," and a little tear ran from &lt;br /&gt;his eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she pulled the other side of her negligee off asking, "Are they &lt;br /&gt;nice and pink like this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer said, "Yes," and another tear came from the other eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she unbuttoned the bottom of her negligee and asked, "Are they &lt;br /&gt;as fuzzy as this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He again said, "Yes," and broke down crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asked, "Why on earth are you crying?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drying his eyes he replied, "The drought got my corn, the flood got my &lt;br /&gt;soy beans, a tornado leveled my barn, and now I think I'm gonna get *#*#*# &lt;br /&gt;out of my peaches!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8263276752087440280?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8263276752087440280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8263276752087440280&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8263276752087440280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8263276752087440280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/farmer.html' title='THE FARMER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4956953668030636115</id><published>2011-01-22T23:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T23:14:10.868-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU KNOW TIMES ARE TOUGH WHEN.....</title><content type='html'>You know times are tough when ...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Recession hits everybody.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wives are having sex with their husbands because they can't afford batteries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CEO's are now playing miniature golf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A stripper was killed when her audience showered her with rolls of pennies while she danced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a Mormon polygamist with only one wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the bank returns your check marked "Insufficient Funds," you call them and ask if they meant you or them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McDonald's is selling the 1/4 ouncer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angelina Jolie adopted a child from America .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parents in  Beverly Hills  fired their nannies and learned their children's names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin had an exorcism but couldn't afford to pay for it, so they re-possessed her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A picture is now only worth 200 words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Bill and Hillary travel together, they now have to share a room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Treasure Island casino in Las Vegas  is now managed by Somali pirates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, finally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congress says they are looking into the Bernard Madoff scandal.&lt;br /&gt;Oh Great! The guy who made $50 Billion disappear is being&lt;br /&gt;investigated by the people who made $1.5 Trillion disappear!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4956953668030636115?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4956953668030636115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4956953668030636115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4956953668030636115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4956953668030636115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/you-know-times-are-tough-when.html' title='YOU KNOW TIMES ARE TOUGH WHEN.....'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-2907265537079720545</id><published>2011-01-22T01:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T23:59:40.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MY PATRIOTIC BOOK</title><content type='html'>hey check out my book of America's unique patriotic heritage.&lt;br /&gt;all the great songs, poems, and speeches.&lt;br /&gt;NOBODY has a history like America does!!&lt;br /&gt;just click on the first link above to go to the page.&lt;br /&gt;you can order right on line.&lt;br /&gt;www.MyPatrioticBook.Blogspot.com &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and here i am on YouTube being interviewed about it. hey, i'm a star on YouTube!!  &lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/viralpublicity#p/u/13/lDYVv9p37so&lt;br /&gt;(wish i knew how to post this correctly to make it work!!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-2907265537079720545?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/viralpublicity#p/u/13/lDYVv9p37so' title='MY PATRIOTIC BOOK'/><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.youtube.com/viralpublicity#p/u/13/lDYVv9p37so' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/2907265537079720545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=2907265537079720545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2907265537079720545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2907265537079720545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-patriotic-book.html' title='MY PATRIOTIC BOOK'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7934596168771884525</id><published>2011-01-22T01:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T01:04:48.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;You can pretend to be serious... you can't pretend to be witty.&lt;br /&gt;--Sacha Guitry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody likes a kidder -- but nobody lends him money.&lt;br /&gt;--Arthur Miller&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7934596168771884525?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7934596168771884525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7934596168771884525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7934596168771884525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7934596168771884525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/thoughts-for-day.html' title='THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8328077333560408613</id><published>2011-01-22T00:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T01:00:42.215-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SENIOR THOUGHTS</title><content type='html'>Reporter interviewing a 104-year-old woman: &lt;br /&gt;'And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?' the reporter asked. &lt;br /&gt;She simply replied, 'No peer pressure.' &lt;br /&gt;==========================================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've sure gotten old! I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, &lt;br /&gt;New knees, fought prostate cancer and diabetes. &lt;br /&gt;I'm half blind, &lt;br /&gt;Can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, &lt;br /&gt;Take 40 different medications that &lt;br /&gt;Make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. &lt;br /&gt;Have bouts with dementia .. &lt;br /&gt;Have poor circulation; &lt;br /&gt;Hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. &lt;br /&gt;Can't remember if I'm 89 or 98. &lt;br /&gt;Have lost all my friends. But, thank goodness, &lt;br /&gt;I still have my driver's license!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8328077333560408613?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8328077333560408613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8328077333560408613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8328077333560408613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8328077333560408613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/senior-thoughts.html' title='SENIOR THOUGHTS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4918034887110117642</id><published>2011-01-22T00:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T00:56:17.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW GUY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A guy walks into a bar in North Carolina and orders a white wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the hillbillies sitting around the bar look up, expecting to see some &lt;br /&gt;pitiful Yankee from the north.&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "You ain't from around here, are ya?"&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "No, I'm from Canada ."&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "What do you do in Canada ?"&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "I'm a taxidermist."&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "A taxidermist?  What in tarnation is a taxidermist?  Do&lt;br /&gt;you drive a taxi?"&lt;br /&gt;"No", says the Canadian "A taxidermist doesn't drive a taxi. &lt;br /&gt;I mount animals."&lt;br /&gt;The bartender grins and hollers, "It's okay boys. He's one of us!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4918034887110117642?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4918034887110117642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4918034887110117642&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4918034887110117642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4918034887110117642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-guy.html' title='NEW GUY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3614598124765078510</id><published>2011-01-22T00:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T00:52:29.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CHURCH TRIVIA CONTEST</title><content type='html'>CHURCH TRIVIA CONTEST&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Well, I lost the Trivia Contest during our church's pot-luck dinner last night &lt;br /&gt;by 1 point!  Not only did I get the last question wrong, but was immediately &lt;br /&gt;asked to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question was: "Where do women have the curliest hair?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;... Apparently the correct answer is "the Fiji Islands"!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3614598124765078510?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3614598124765078510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3614598124765078510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3614598124765078510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3614598124765078510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/church-trivia-contest.html' title='CHURCH TRIVIA CONTEST'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3722464350738617011</id><published>2011-01-22T00:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T00:50:50.377-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MAIL ORDER SEX TOYS</title><content type='html'>DEAR MADAM:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT ORDER FROM OUR SEX TOYS SHOP. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU ASKED FOR THE LARGE RED VIBRATOR AS FEATURED ON OUR WALL DISPLAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE SELECT ANOTHER ITEM BECAUSE THAT IS OUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3722464350738617011?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3722464350738617011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3722464350738617011&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3722464350738617011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3722464350738617011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/mail-order-sex-toys.html' title='MAIL ORDER SEX TOYS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6760082369596426365</id><published>2011-01-16T00:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T00:08:40.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THOUGHT FOR THE DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;you might as well fall flat on your face,&lt;br /&gt;as lean over too far backwards.&lt;br /&gt;-- James Thurber&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6760082369596426365?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6760082369596426365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6760082369596426365&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6760082369596426365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6760082369596426365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/thought-for-day_16.html' title='THOUGHT FOR THE DAY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-5737577169116042715</id><published>2011-01-15T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T23:55:28.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PSYCHIATRISTS VS. BARTENDERS</title><content type='html'>EVER SINCE I WAS A CHILD, I'VE ALWAYS HAD A FEAR OF SOMEONE UNDER MY BED AT NIGHT. SO I WENT TO A SHRINK AND TOLD HIM: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I've got problems. Every time I go to bed I think there's somebody under it. I'm scared. I think I'm going crazy.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Just put yourself in my hands for one year,' said the shrink. 'Come talk to me three times a week and we should be able to get rid of those fears...' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'How much do you charge?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Eighty dollars per visit,' replied the doctor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I'll sleep on it,' I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six months later the doctor met me on the street. 'Why didn't you come to see me about those fears you were having?' he asked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Well, Eighty bucks a visit three times a week for a year is an awful lot of money! A bartender cured me for $10. I was so happy to have saved all that money that I went and bought me a new pickup!' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Is that so!' With a bit of an attitude he said, 'and how, may I ask,did a bartender cure you?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'He told me to cut the legs off the bed! - Ain't nobody under there now!!!' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FORGET THE SHRINKS.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE A DRINK &amp; TALK TO A BARTENDER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-5737577169116042715?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/5737577169116042715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=5737577169116042715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/5737577169116042715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/5737577169116042715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/psychiatrists-vs-bartenders.html' title='PSYCHIATRISTS VS. BARTENDERS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7501819786028974149</id><published>2011-01-15T23:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T23:41:22.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AGING IN AMERICA</title><content type='html'>I've sure gotten old! I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement,&lt;br /&gt;New knees, fought prostate cancer and diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;I'm half blind,&lt;br /&gt;Can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine,&lt;br /&gt;Take 40 different medications that&lt;br /&gt;Make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts.&lt;br /&gt;Have bouts with dementia ..&lt;br /&gt;Have poor circulation;&lt;br /&gt;Hardly feel my hands and feet anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Can't remember if I'm 89 or 98.&lt;br /&gt;Have lost all my friends. But, thank God,&lt;br /&gt;I still have my driver's license.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7501819786028974149?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7501819786028974149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7501819786028974149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7501819786028974149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7501819786028974149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/ive-sure-gotten-old-ive-had-two-bypass.html' title='AGING IN AMERICA'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8896595164795096659</id><published>2011-01-15T23:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T23:35:50.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE LADY AT THE DRUGSTORE</title><content type='html'>DIVORCE versus MURDER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, walked up to the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes, and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd like to buy some cyanide."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pharmacist asked, "Why in the world do you need cyanide?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The lady replied, "I need it to poison my husband."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pharmacist's eyes got big and he explained, "I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband, that's against the law!  I'll lose my license! They'll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pharmacist looked at the picture and said, "You didn't tell me you had a prescription...." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8896595164795096659?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8896595164795096659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8896595164795096659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8896595164795096659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8896595164795096659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/lady-at-drugstore.html' title='THE LADY AT THE DRUGSTORE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-640803926916008924</id><published>2011-01-12T01:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T01:42:22.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THOUGHT FOR THE DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The perfect lover is one who turns into a pizza at 4a.m.&lt;br /&gt;-- Charles Pierce&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-640803926916008924?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/640803926916008924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=640803926916008924&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/640803926916008924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/640803926916008924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2011/01/thought-for-day.html' title='THOUGHT FOR THE DAY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8933047137145122917</id><published>2009-11-15T23:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T00:02:08.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE BAPTIST COWBOY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A cowboy, who just moved to   Wyoming from   Texas , walks into a bar and orders three mugs of Bud. He sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The bartender approaches and tells the cowboy, 'You know, a mug goes flat after I draw it. It would taste better if you bought one at a time.' The cowboy replies, 'Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in   Arizona , the other is in   Colorado .. When we all left our home in   Texas , we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we drank together. So I'm drinking one beer for each of my brothers and one for myself.' The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there. The cowboy becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way. He orders three mugs and drinks them in turn. One day, he comes in and only orders two mugs. All the regulars take notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, 'I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss.' The cowboy looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns in his eyes and he laughs. 'Oh, no, everybody's just fine, ' he explains, 'It's just that my wife and I joined the   Baptist   Church and I had to quit drinking.' 'Hasn't affected my brothers though!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8933047137145122917?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8933047137145122917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8933047137145122917&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8933047137145122917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8933047137145122917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/baptist-cowboy.html' title='THE BAPTIST COWBOY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6728614460100253132</id><published>2009-11-15T23:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T23:53:20.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE $280,000 MORTGAGE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;For his birthday, little Joseph asked for a 10-speed bicycle. His father said, 'Son, we'd give you one, but the mortgage on this house is  $280,000 and your mother just lost her job. There's no way we can afford it.'   The next day the father saw little Joseph heading out the front door with a suitcase. So he asked, 'Son, where are you going?' Little Joseph told him; 'I was walking past your room last night and heard you telling mom you were pulling out.    Then I heard her tell you to wait because she was coming too.    And I'll be damned if I'm staying here by myself ....... with a  $280,000 mortgage and no bike!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6728614460100253132?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6728614460100253132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6728614460100253132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6728614460100253132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6728614460100253132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/280000-mortgage.html' title='THE $280,000 MORTGAGE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-30005636624752755</id><published>2009-11-13T01:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T01:16:59.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU MIGHT BE A REDNECK.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;·         You take your dog for a walk and you both use the same tree.&lt;br /&gt;·         You can entertain yourself for more than 15 minutes with a fly swatter.&lt;br /&gt;·         Your boat has not left the driveway in 15 years.&lt;br /&gt;·         You burn your yard rather than mow it.&lt;br /&gt;·         You think "The Nutcracker" is something you do off the high dive.&lt;br /&gt;·         The Salvation Army declines your furniture.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-30005636624752755?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/30005636624752755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=30005636624752755&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/30005636624752755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/30005636624752755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-might-be-redneck.html' title='YOU MIGHT BE A REDNECK.....'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4412853958876547448</id><published>2009-11-13T00:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T01:01:11.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MARY GOES SHOPPING</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Bubba was fixing a door and he found that he needed a new hinge,&lt;br /&gt;so he sent Mary Louise to the hardware store.&lt;br /&gt;At the hardware store Mary Louise saw a beautiful teapot on a top&lt;br /&gt;shelf while she was waiting for Joe Bob to finish waiting on a customer.&lt;br /&gt;When Joe Bob was finished, Mary Louise asked how much for the teapot?&lt;br /&gt;Joe Bob replied "That's silver and it costs $100!"&lt;br /&gt;"My goodness, that sure is a lotta money!" Mary Louise exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;She then proceeded to describe the hinge that Bubba had sent her to buy,&lt;br /&gt;and Jo Bob went to the backroom to find a hinge.&lt;br /&gt;From the backroom Joe Bob yelled "Mary Louise, you wanna screw for that hinge?'&lt;br /&gt;To which Mary Louise replied, "No, but I will for the teapot!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4412853958876547448?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4412853958876547448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4412853958876547448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4412853958876547448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4412853958876547448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/mary-goes-shopping.html' title='MARY GOES SHOPPING'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6987340124806973718</id><published>2009-11-07T00:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T00:56:10.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>INDIAN TALK</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;An Indian walks into a cafe with a shotgun&lt;br /&gt;in one hand, pulling a male buffalo with the other.&lt;br /&gt;He says to the waiter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Want coffee.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter says, Sure, Chief. Coming right up.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gets the Indian a tall mug of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;The Indian drinks the coffee down in one gulp,turns and blasts the buffalo with the shotgun, causing parts of the animal to splatter everywhere and then just walks out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning the Indian returns.&lt;br /&gt;He has his shotgun in one hand, pulling&lt;br /&gt;another male buffalo with the other.&lt;br /&gt;He walks up to the counter and says to&lt;br /&gt;the waiter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Want coffee.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter says 'Whoa, Tonto!&lt;br /&gt;We're still cleaning up your mess from yesterday. What was all that about, anyway?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Indian smiles and proudly says .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Training for position in United States Congress: Come in, drink coffee, shoot the bull,leave mess for others to clean up,&lt;br /&gt;disappear for rest of day.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6987340124806973718?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6987340124806973718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6987340124806973718&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6987340124806973718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6987340124806973718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/indian-talk.html' title='INDIAN TALK'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7938840392234234046</id><published>2009-11-07T00:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T00:36:13.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LAWYER JOKES</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WITNESS: By death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WITNESS: Take a guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I'm going with male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7938840392234234046?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7938840392234234046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7938840392234234046&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7938840392234234046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7938840392234234046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/lawyer-jokes.html' title='LAWYER JOKES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7547798609576731565</id><published>2009-11-05T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T12:30:44.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JEWISH RYE BREAD</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Two old guys, one 80 and one 87, were sitting on their usual park bench one morning. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;The 87 year old had just finished his morning jog and wasn't even short of breath. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;The 80 year old was amazed at his friend's stamina and asked him! what he did to have so much energy &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;The 87 year old said "Well, I eat Jewish rye bread every day.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It keeps your energy level high and you'll have great stamina with the ladies." &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;So, on the way home, the 80 year old stops at the bakery.    As he was looking around, the lady asked if he needed any help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Do you have any Jewish rye bread?" &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;She said, "Yes, there's a whole shelf of it. Would you like some?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "I want 5 loaves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "My goodness, 5 loaves...by the time you get to the 5th loaf, it'll be hard". &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He replied, "I can't believe it, everybody in the world knows about this but me!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7547798609576731565?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7547798609576731565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7547798609576731565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7547798609576731565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7547798609576731565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/jewish-rye-bread.html' title='JEWISH RYE BREAD'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-958033768323751970</id><published>2009-11-01T00:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T00:12:18.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW STATE MOTTOS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;U.S. State mottos --&lt;br /&gt;Alabama: Yes, We Have Electricity&lt;br /&gt;Alaska: 11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!&lt;br /&gt;Arizona: But It's A Dry Heat&lt;br /&gt;Arkansas: Literacy Ain't Everything&lt;br /&gt;California: By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic Than Your Honda&lt;br /&gt;Colorado: If You Don't Ski, Don't Bother&lt;br /&gt;Connecticut: Like Massachusetts, Only The Kennedy's Don't Own It Yet&lt;br /&gt;Delaware: We Really Do Like The Chemicals In Our Water&lt;br /&gt;Florida: Ask Us About Our Grandkids&lt;br /&gt;Georgia: We Put The "Fun" In Fundamentalist Extremism&lt;br /&gt;Hawaii: Haka Tiki Mou Sha'ami Leeki Toru (Death To Mainland Scum, But Leave Your Money)&lt;br /&gt;Idaho: More Than Just Potatoes ... Well Okay, We're Not, But The Potatoes Sure Are Real Good&lt;br /&gt;Illinois: Please Don't Pronounce the "S"&lt;br /&gt;Indiana: 2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free&lt;br /&gt;Iowa: We Do Amazing Things With Corn&lt;br /&gt;Kansas: First Of The Rectangle States&lt;br /&gt;Kentucky: Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names&lt;br /&gt;Louisiana: We're Not ALL Drunk Cajun Wackos, But That's Our Tourism Campaign&lt;br /&gt;Maine: We're Really Cold, But We Have Cheap Lobster&lt;br /&gt;Maryland: If You Can Dream It, We Can Tax It&lt;br /&gt;Massachusetts: Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden's (For Most Tax Brackets)&lt;br /&gt;Michigan: Hell in the Lower Peninsula but Paradise in the Upper Peninsula&lt;br /&gt;Minnesota: 10,000 Lakes ... And 10,000,000,000,000 Mosquitoes  LOL&lt;br /&gt;Mississippi: Come And Feel Better About Your Own State&lt;br /&gt;Missouri: Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars At Work&lt;br /&gt;Montana: Land Of The Big Sky, The Unabomber, Right-Wing Crazies, And Very Little Else&lt;br /&gt;Nebraska: Ask About Our State Motto Contest&lt;br /&gt;Nevada: Whores and Poker!&lt;br /&gt;New Hampshire: Go Away And Leave Us Alone&lt;br /&gt;New Jersey: You Want A ##$%##! Motto? I Got Yer ##$%##! Motto Right Here!&lt;br /&gt;New Mexico: Lizards Make Excellent Pets&lt;br /&gt;New York: You Have The Right To Remain Silent, You Have The Right To An Attorney ...&lt;br /&gt;North Carolina: Tobacco Is A Vegetable&lt;br /&gt;North Dakota: We Really Are One Of The 50 States!&lt;br /&gt;Ohio: At Least We're Not Michigan&lt;br /&gt;Oklahoma: Like The Musical, Only No Singing&lt;br /&gt;Oregon: Spotted Owl ... It's What's For Dinner&lt;br /&gt;Pennsylvania: Cook With Coal&lt;br /&gt;Rhode Island: We're Not REALLY An Island&lt;br /&gt;South Carolina: Remember The Civil War? We Didn't Actually Surrender&lt;br /&gt;South Dakota: Closer Than North Dakota&lt;br /&gt;Tennessee: The Educashun State&lt;br /&gt;Texas: Si, Hablo Ingles (Yes, I Speak English)&lt;br /&gt;Utah: Our Jesus Is Better Than Your Jesus&lt;br /&gt;Vermont: Yep&lt;br /&gt;Virginia: Who Says Government Stiffs And Slackjaw Yokels Don't Mix?&lt;br /&gt;Washington: Help! We're Overrun By Nerds And Slackers!&lt;br /&gt;Washington, D.C.: Wanna Be Mayor?&lt;br /&gt;West Virginia: One Big Happy Family ... Really!&lt;br /&gt;Wisconsin: Come Cut The Cheese&lt;br /&gt;Wyoming: Where Men Are Men ... and the sheep are scared!!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-958033768323751970?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/958033768323751970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=958033768323751970&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/958033768323751970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/958033768323751970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-state-mottos.html' title='NEW STATE MOTTOS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3548247107612428547</id><published>2009-11-01T00:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T00:05:57.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GOOD QUESTION</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it when your wife gets pregnant all her friends rub her belly and say "congratulations". &lt;br /&gt;But nobody rubs your dick and says "Good Job"?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3548247107612428547?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3548247107612428547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3548247107612428547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3548247107612428547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3548247107612428547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/11/good-question.html' title='GOOD QUESTION'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-2293692131028866901</id><published>2009-10-31T23:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T23:51:44.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STORY WITH A MORAL</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment:&lt;br /&gt;Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories. There were all the regular types of stuff: spilled milk and pennies saved and etc. etc.  But then the teacher realized, much to her dismay, that only Johnnie was left. &lt;br /&gt;“Johnnie, do you have a story to share?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes ma'am.  My daddy told a story about my Aunt Karen. She was a pilot in Desert Storm, and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a flask of whiskey,&lt;br /&gt;a pistol, and a survival knife. She drank the whiskey and threw away the bottle on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break in her pocket, and then her parachute landed her right in the middle&lt;br /&gt;of 20 Iraqi troops. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;She shot 15 of them with the pistol...until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife...till the blade broke. And then she killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ Good Heavens,” said the horrified teacher. “What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from this horrible story?” &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;“Stay the f... away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking!” &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-2293692131028866901?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/2293692131028866901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=2293692131028866901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2293692131028866901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2293692131028866901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/story-with-moral.html' title='STORY WITH A MORAL'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3547893244812335094</id><published>2009-10-31T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T23:48:54.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HONEYMOON TALE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;After returning from his honeymoon in Florida with his new bride, Virginia,&lt;br /&gt; Luigi stopped by his old barbershop in Paterson, New Jersey to say hello&lt;br /&gt; to his friends. Giovanni said, 'Hey Luigi, how wasa da treep?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Luigi said, 'Everyting wasa perfecto except for da train ride down.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'Whata you mean, Luigi?' asked Giovanni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'Well, we boarda da train at Grana Central Station. My beautiful Virginia,&lt;br /&gt; she pack a biga basket a food.She brough ta da vino, some nice cigars for&lt;br /&gt; me, and we were lookina forward to da trip, and open upa da luncha basket. The&lt;br /&gt; conductore come aby, waga his finger at us anda say, 'no eat indisa car.&lt;br /&gt; Musta use a dining car.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So, me and my beautiful Virginia, we go to da dining car, eat a biga lunch&lt;br /&gt; and starta ta open da bottle of a nice a vino! Conductore walka by again,&lt;br /&gt; waga his finger and say, 'No drinka in disa car! Musta use a cluba car.'&lt;br /&gt;  So, we go to cluba car. While a drinkina da vino, I starta to lighta my&lt;br /&gt; biga cigar. The conductore, he waga is finger again and say,&lt;br /&gt;   'No a smokina disa car. Musta go to a smokina car.' 'We go to a smokina&lt;br /&gt; car and I smoke a my biga cigar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Then my beautiful Virginia and I, we go to a sleeper car anda go to bed. We&lt;br /&gt; just about to go boombada boombada and the conductore, he walka through da&lt;br /&gt; hallway shouting at a top of his a voice...'Nofolka Virginia! Nofolka&lt;br /&gt; Virginia!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  'Nexta time, I'ma just &lt;/strong&gt;gonna taka da bus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3547893244812335094?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3547893244812335094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3547893244812335094&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3547893244812335094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3547893244812335094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/honeymoon-tale.html' title='HONEYMOON TALE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-2794298067243676265</id><published>2009-10-31T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T23:39:32.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FEMALE POLICE OFFICER</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;She tells the man, "Sir, you have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say can and will be held against you..." &lt;br /&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;   The drunk says: &lt;br /&gt;   "Boobs"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-2794298067243676265?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/2794298067243676265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=2794298067243676265&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2794298067243676265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2794298067243676265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/female-police-officer.html' title='FEMALE POLICE OFFICER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8724987977089914383</id><published>2009-10-17T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T21:54:30.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SENIOR BIRTHDAY PRESENTS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Two old guys were chatting..... &lt;br /&gt;One said to the other: &lt;br /&gt;"My 75th birthday was yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;She gave me an SUV".&lt;br /&gt;Other guy responded: &lt;br /&gt;"Wow, that's amazing!!..... &lt;br /&gt;Imagine, an SUV!!.. &lt;br /&gt;What a great gift!"&lt;br /&gt;First guy: &lt;br /&gt;"Yup !!.... Socks, Underwear and Viagra!" &lt;br /&gt;****************************************** &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8724987977089914383?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8724987977089914383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8724987977089914383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8724987977089914383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8724987977089914383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/senior-birthday-presents.html' title='SENIOR BIRTHDAY PRESENTS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-2098595856467136202</id><published>2009-10-13T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T20:46:02.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEWLYWEDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A young Chinese couple gets married. She's a virgin. Truth be told, he is a virgin too, but she doesn't know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On their wedding night, she cowers naked under the sheets as her husband undresses in the darkness. He climbs into bed next to her and tries to be reassuring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My darring,' he whispers, 'I know dis you firss time and you berry flighten. I promise you, I give you anyting you want, I do anyting - juss anyting you want. You juss ask. Whatchu want?' he says, trying to sound experienced and worldly, which he  hopes will impress her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A thoughtful silence follows and he waits patiently (and eagerly) for her request.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She eventually shyly whispers back, 'I want to try someting I have hear about from odda girls... Numbaa 69.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More thoughtful silence, this time from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, in a puzzled tone he asks her, 'You want... Garlic Chicken wif snow peas?" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-2098595856467136202?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/2098595856467136202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=2098595856467136202&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2098595856467136202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2098595856467136202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/newlyweds.html' title='NEWLYWEDS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-186256561024321686</id><published>2009-10-13T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T18:54:12.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SCAM WARNING</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A 'heads up' for those men who may be regular Home Depot customers. &lt;br /&gt;This one caught me by surprise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the last month I became a victim of a clever scam while out &lt;br /&gt;shopping. Simply going out to get supplies has turned out to be quite traumatic. Don't be naive enough to think it couldn't happen to you or your friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how the scam works: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two good-looking 20-21 year-old girls come over to your car as you are packing your supplies into the trunk. They both start wiping your windshield with a rag and Windex, with their breasts almost falling out of their skimpy T-shirts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is impossible not to look. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you thank them and offer them a tip, they say 'No' and instead ask you for a ride to McDonalds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You agree and they get into the back seat. On the way, they &lt;br /&gt;start undressing. Then one of them climbs over into the front seat and starts crawling all over you, while the other one steals your wallet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my wallet stolen July 4th, 9th, 10th, twice on the 15th, 17th, 20th, 24th &amp; 29th. Also August 1st &amp; 4th, twice on the 8th, 10th, 13th, 16th &amp; 22nd, three times this morning &lt;br /&gt;and very likely again tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tell your friends to be careful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Wal-Mart has wallets on sale for 2.99 each. I found cheaper ones for $1.99 at K-Mart and bought them out. Also, you never will get to eat at McDonalds. I've already lost 11 pounds just running back and forth to Home Depot. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-186256561024321686?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/186256561024321686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=186256561024321686&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/186256561024321686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/186256561024321686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/scam-warning.html' title='SCAM WARNING'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6168377986638631903</id><published>2009-10-11T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T01:33:18.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HARDWARE ADVENTURE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Bubba was fixing a door and he found that he needed a new hinge,&lt;br /&gt;so he sent Mary Louise to the hardware store. &lt;br /&gt;At the hardware store Mary Louise saw a beautiful teapot on a top &lt;br /&gt;shelf while she was waiting for Joe Bob to finish waiting on a customer. &lt;br /&gt;When Joe Bob was finished, Mary Louise asked how much for the teapot? &lt;br /&gt;Joe Bob replied "That's silver and it costs $100!" &lt;br /&gt;"My goodness, that sure is a lotta money!" Mary Louise exclaimed. &lt;br /&gt;She then proceeded to describe the hinge that Bubba had sent her to buy, &lt;br /&gt;and Jo Bob went to the backroom to find a hinge. &lt;br /&gt;From the backroom Joe Bob yelled "Mary Louise, you wanna screw for that hinge?' &lt;br /&gt;To which Mary Louise replied, "No, but I will for the teapot!!" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6168377986638631903?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6168377986638631903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6168377986638631903&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6168377986638631903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6168377986638631903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/hardware-adventure.html' title='HARDWARE ADVENTURE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8204393735103441754</id><published>2009-10-11T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T01:29:29.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CELIBACY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Celibacy can be a choice in life, or a condition imposed by circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While attending a Marriage Encounter Weekend, Walter and his wife Ann, being from Louisiana, listened to the instructor declare,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'It is essential that husbands and wives know the things that are important to each other.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He addressed the men,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Can you name and describe your wife's favorite flower?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walter leaned over, touched Ann's arm gently and whispered,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gold Medal All-purpose, isn't it?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus began Walter's life of celibacy....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8204393735103441754?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8204393735103441754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8204393735103441754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8204393735103441754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8204393735103441754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/celibacy.html' title='CELIBACY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6531229037705902930</id><published>2009-10-10T00:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T00:13:29.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE STATUE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door. 'Hurry,' she said, 'stand in the corner.' She rubbed baby oil all over him, then dusted him with talcum powder. 'Don't move until I tell you,'  &lt;br /&gt;she said. 'Pretend you're a statue.' &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;'What's this?' the husband inquired as he entered the room. 'Oh it's a statue,' she replied. 'The Smiths bought one and I liked it so I got one for us, too.' No more was said, not even when they went to bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 2 AM the husband got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a beer. 'Here,' he said to the statue, have this. I stood like that for two days at the Smiths and nobody offered me a damned thing.' &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6531229037705902930?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6531229037705902930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6531229037705902930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6531229037705902930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6531229037705902930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/statue.html' title='THE STATUE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3479513705121469700</id><published>2009-10-10T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T00:11:03.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MORTICIAN</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A mortician was working late one night. He examined the body of Mr. Schwartz, about to be cremated,  &lt;br /&gt;and made a startling discovery. Schwartz had the largest private part he had ever seen! 'I'm sorry Mr. Schwartz,' the mortician commented, 'I can't allow you to be cremated with such an impressive private part. It must be saved for posterity.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he removed it, stuffed it into his briefcase, and took it home. 'I have something to show you won't believe,' he said to his wife, opening his briefcase. 'My God!' the wife exclaimed, 'Schwartz is dead!'  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3479513705121469700?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3479513705121469700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3479513705121469700&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3479513705121469700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3479513705121469700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/mortician.html' title='THE MORTICIAN'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3450280915990269674</id><published>2009-10-10T00:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T00:07:41.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE GOLF EXCUSE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon. Exhausted, they fell asleep and woke up at 8 PM. The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt. He put on his shoes and drove home. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;'Where have you been?' his wife demanded. 'I can't lie to you,' he replied, 'I'm having an affair with my secretary. We had sex all afternoon.' She looked down at his shoes and said: 'You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!' &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3450280915990269674?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3450280915990269674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3450280915990269674&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3450280915990269674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3450280915990269674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/golf-excuse.html' title='THE GOLF EXCUSE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7988855449456702569</id><published>2009-10-09T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T00:03:26.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>INTERNATIONAL MAN LAWS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;International Man Laws --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1: Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2: It is OK for a man to cry ONLY under the following circumstances: &lt;br /&gt;  (a) When a heroic dog dies to save its master. &lt;br /&gt;  (b) The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse. &lt;br /&gt;  (c) After wrecking your boss's car. &lt;br /&gt;  (d) When she is using her teeth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3: Any man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4: Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5: If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6: Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy's fridge is forbidden. However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7: No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man. In fact, even remembering your buddy's birthday is strictly optional. At that point, you must celebrate at a strip bar of the birthday boy's choice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8: On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9: When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10: You may flatulate in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;11: It is permissible to drink a fruity alcohol drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach ... and it's delivered by a topless model and only when it's free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12: Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13: Unless you're in prison, never fight naked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14: Friends don't let friends wear Speedos.  Ever.  Issue closed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15: If a man's fly is down, that's his problem, you didn't see anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16: Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17: A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18: Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that's just greedy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19: If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you'd better be talking about his choice of beer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20: Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours, except if she's withholding sex pending your response. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21: Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while lifting weights &lt;br /&gt;  a) Yeah, Baby, Push it! &lt;br /&gt;  b) C'mon, give me one more! Harder! &lt;br /&gt;  c) Another set and we can hit the showers! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22: Never talk to a man in a bathroom unless you are on equal footing: i.e., both urinating, both waiting in line, etc.  For all other situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23: Never allow a telephone conversation with a woman to go on longer than you are able to have sex with her.  Keep a stopwatch by the phone.  Hang up if necessary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24: The morning after you and a girl who was formerly "just a friend" have carnal, drunken monkey sex, the fact that you're feeling weird and guilty is no reason for you not to nail each other again before the discussion occurs about what a big mistake it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25: It is acceptable for you to drive her car. It is not acceptable for her to drive yours.  Also, thou shalt not buy a car in the colors of brown, pink, lime green, orange or sky blue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26: The girl who replies to the question "What do you want for Christmas?" with the answer "If you loved me, you'd know what I want!" gets an Xbox.  End of story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27: There is no reason for guys to watch Ice Skating or Men's Gymnastics.  Ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28: You should know the difference between having guts and balls. The definition of each is listed below: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. GUTS" is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to say, "Are you still cleaning or are you flying somewhere?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b. "BALLS" is coming home late after a night out with the guys smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and having the balls to say, "You're next!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this clears up any confusion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The International Council of Manlaws, Ltd&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7988855449456702569?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7988855449456702569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7988855449456702569&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7988855449456702569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7988855449456702569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/international-man-laws.html' title='INTERNATIONAL MAN LAWS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3528153507321291895</id><published>2009-10-09T00:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:51:40.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE THREE BEARS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A far more  accurate account of the events that fateful morning.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby  bear goes downstairs, sits in his small chair at the table.   &lt;br /&gt;He looks   into his small bowl. It is empty. 'Who's been eating   &lt;br /&gt;my porridge?'  he squeaks..   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy  Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair. He looks into his   &lt;br /&gt;big bowl and it is also empty. 'Who's been eating my porridge?!?' he   &lt;br /&gt;roars.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mummy   Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and yells,   &lt;br /&gt;'For God's sake, how many times do I have to go through this with you   &lt;br /&gt;idiots? It was Mummy Bear who got up first. It was Mummy Bear who woke   &lt;br /&gt;everyone in the house. It was Mummy Bear who made the coffee. It was Mummy   &lt;br /&gt;Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last night and put everything away.   &lt;br /&gt;It was Mummy Bear who swept the floor in the kitchen. It was Mummy Bear   &lt;br /&gt;who went out in the cold early morning air to fetch The newspaper and   &lt;br /&gt;and croissants. It was Mummy Bear who set the damn   &lt;br /&gt;table.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'It was Mummy Bear who walked the bloody dog, cleaned the cat's litter tray,   &lt;br /&gt;gave them their food, and refilled their water.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'And now that you've decided to drag your sorry bear-asses downstairs and grace   &lt;br /&gt;Mummy Bear with your grumpy presence, listen carefully, because I'm only   &lt;br /&gt;going to say this once....  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I HAVEN'T MADE THE F***ING PORRIDGE YET!!'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3528153507321291895?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3528153507321291895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3528153507321291895&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3528153507321291895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3528153507321291895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/three-bears.html' title='THE THREE BEARS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7342510638119332034</id><published>2009-10-09T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:42:12.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ENGINEERS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take One &lt;br /&gt;Two engineering students were walking across a university campus when one said, 'Where did you get such a great bike?' &lt;br /&gt;The second engineer replied, 'Well, I was walking along yesterday, minding my own business, when a beautiful woman rode up on this bike, threw it to the ground, took off all her clothes and said, 'Take what you want.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second engineer nodded approvingly and said, 'Good choice; the clothes probably wouldn't have fit you anyway.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take Two &lt;br /&gt;To the optimist, the glass is half full. &lt;br /&gt;To the pessimist, the glass is half empty. &lt;br /&gt;To the engineer, the glass is twice as big as it needs to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take Three &lt;br /&gt;A priest, a doctor, and an engineer were waiting one morning for a particularly slow group of golfers. &lt;br /&gt;The engineer fumed, 'What's with those blokes? We must have been waiting for fifteen minutes!' &lt;br /&gt;The doctor chimed in, 'I don't know, but I've never seen such inept golf!' &lt;br /&gt;The priest said, 'Here comes the greens keeper. Let's have a word with him.' &lt;br /&gt;He said, 'Hello, George! what's wrong with that group ahead of us? They're rather slow, aren't they?' &lt;br /&gt;The greens keeper replied, 'Oh, yes. That's a group of blind fire fighters. They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime.' &lt;br /&gt;The group fell silent for a moment. &lt;br /&gt;The priest said, 'That's so sad. I think I will say a special prayer for them tonight.' &lt;br /&gt;The doctor said, 'Good idea. I'm going to contact my ophthalmologist colleague and see if there's anything he can do for them.' &lt;br /&gt;The engineer said, 'Why can't they play at night?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take Four &lt;br /&gt;What is the difference between mechanical engineers and civil engineers? &lt;br /&gt;Mechanical engineers build weapons and civil engineers build targets. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7342510638119332034?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7342510638119332034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7342510638119332034&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7342510638119332034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7342510638119332034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/engineers_09.html' title='ENGINEERS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-118215134200052039</id><published>2009-10-09T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:37:50.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MORE ENGINEERS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take Five &lt;br /&gt;The graduate with a science degree asks, 'Why does it work?' &lt;br /&gt;The graduate with an engineering degree asks, 'How does it work?' &lt;br /&gt;The graduate with an accounting degree asks, 'How much will it cost?' &lt;br /&gt;The graduate with an arts degree asks, 'Do you want fries with that?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take Six &lt;br /&gt;Three engineering students were gathered together discussing the possible designers of the human body. &lt;br /&gt;One said, 'It was a mechanical engineer. Just look at all the joints.' &lt;br /&gt;Another said, 'No, it was an electrical engineer. The nervous system has many thousands of electrical connections.' &lt;br /&gt;The last one said, 'No, actually it had to have been a civil engineer. &lt;br /&gt;Who else would run a toxic waste pipeline through a recreational area ?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take Seven &lt;br /&gt;Normal people believe that if it ain't broke, don't fix it. &lt;br /&gt;Engineers believe that if it ain't broke, it doesn't have enough features yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understanding Engineers - Take Eight &lt;br /&gt;An engineer was crossing a road one day, when a frog called out to him and said, 'If you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess.' &lt;br /&gt;He bent over, picked up the frog and put it in his pocket. &lt;br /&gt;The frog spoke up again and said, 'If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I will stay with you for one week.' &lt;br /&gt;The engineer took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and returned It to the pocket. &lt;br /&gt;The frog then cried out, 'If you kiss me and turn me back into a Princess, I'll stay with you for one week and do ANYTHING you want.' &lt;br /&gt;Again, the engineer took the frog out, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the frog asked, 'What is the matter? I've told you I'm a beautiful princess, and that I'll stay with you for one week and do anything you want. Why won't you kiss me?' &lt;br /&gt;The engineer said, 'Look, I'm an engineer. I don't have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog -- now that's cool!!'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-118215134200052039?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/118215134200052039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=118215134200052039&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/118215134200052039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/118215134200052039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/engineers.html' title='MORE ENGINEERS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-567618132887317649</id><published>2009-10-09T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:25:24.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MORNING SEX</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;She was standing in the kitchen, preparing our usual soft-boiled eggs&lt;br /&gt;and toast for breakfast, wearing only the 'T' shirt that she normally&lt;br /&gt;slept in. As I walked in, almost awake, she turned to me and said&lt;br /&gt;softly, 'You've got to make love to me this very moment! My eyes lit up&lt;br /&gt;and I thought, 'I am either still dreaming or this is going to be my&lt;br /&gt;lucky day!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not wanting to lose the moment, I embraced her and then gave it my all;&lt;br /&gt;right there on the kitchen table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards she said, 'Thanks,' and returned to the stove, her T-shirt&lt;br /&gt;still around her neck.  Happy, but a little puzzled, I asked, 'What was that all about?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She explained, 'The egg timer's broken.'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-567618132887317649?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/567618132887317649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=567618132887317649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/567618132887317649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/567618132887317649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/morning-sex.html' title='MORNING SEX'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-976231734627063955</id><published>2009-10-09T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:22:32.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AN ODE TO SPELLCHECKER</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt; I have a spelling checker &lt;br /&gt;  I disk covered four my PC. &lt;br /&gt;  It plane lee marks four my revue &lt;br /&gt;  Miss steaks aye can knot see. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  Eye ran this poem threw it. &lt;br /&gt;  Your sure real glad two no. &lt;br /&gt;  Its very polished in its weigh, &lt;br /&gt;  My checker tolled me sew. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  A checker is a blessing. &lt;br /&gt;  It freeze yew lodes of thyme. &lt;br /&gt;  It helps me right awl stiles two reed, &lt;br /&gt;  And aides me when aye rime. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  Each frays comes posed up on my screen &lt;br /&gt;  Eye trussed too bee a joule. &lt;br /&gt;  The checker pours o'er every word &lt;br /&gt;  To cheque sum spelling rule. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  Bee fore wee rote with checkers &lt;br /&gt;  Hour spelling was inn deck line, &lt;br /&gt;  Butt now when wee dew have a laps, &lt;br /&gt;  Wee are not maid too wine. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  And now bee cause my spelling &lt;br /&gt;  Is checked with such grate flare, &lt;br /&gt;  There are know faults in awl this peace,&lt;br /&gt;  Of nun eye am a wear. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  To rite with care is quite a feet &lt;br /&gt;  Of witch won should be proud, &lt;br /&gt;  And wee mussed dew the best wee can, &lt;br /&gt;  Sew flaws are knot aloud. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  That's why eye brake in two averse &lt;br /&gt;  Cuz Eye dew want too please. &lt;br /&gt;  Sow glad eye yam that aye did bye &lt;br /&gt;  This soft wear four pea seas. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-976231734627063955?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/976231734627063955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=976231734627063955&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/976231734627063955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/976231734627063955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/ode-to-spellchecker.html' title='AN ODE TO SPELLCHECKER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4303180456826133263</id><published>2009-10-07T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T21:03:06.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THREE CONTESTS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinocchio, Snow White, and Superman are out for a stroll in town one day. As they walked, they come across a sign: "Beauty contest for the most beautiful woman in the world."&lt;br /&gt;"I am entering!" said Snow White. After half an hour she comes out and they ask her, "Well, how'd ya do?"&lt;br /&gt;"First Place!" said Snow White.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They continue walking and they see a sign: "Contest for the strongest man in the world."&lt;br /&gt;"I'm entering!" says Superman. After half an hour, he returns and they ask him, "How did you make out?"&lt;br /&gt;"First Place," answers Superman. "Did you ever doubt?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They continue walking when they see a sign: "Contest! Who is the greatest liar in the world?" Pinocchio enters.&lt;br /&gt;After half an hour he returns with tears in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"What happened?" they asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Who the hell is this Nancy Pelosi???" asked Pinocchio.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4303180456826133263?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4303180456826133263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4303180456826133263&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4303180456826133263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4303180456826133263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/three-contests.html' title='THREE CONTESTS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4740403608140259989</id><published>2009-10-07T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T20:51:16.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE FRIEND TEST</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;This really works...!&lt;br /&gt;If you don't believe it, just try this experiment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put  your dog and your wife in the trunk of the car for an  hour. &lt;br /&gt;      When you open the trunk, which one is really happy to see you?       &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4740403608140259989?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4740403608140259989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4740403608140259989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4740403608140259989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4740403608140259989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/friend-test.html' title='THE FRIEND TEST'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3626696571104899568</id><published>2009-10-07T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T20:47:04.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>40 YEARS OF MARRIAGE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;After 40 years of marriage, a couple was lying in bed one evening, when the wife felt her husband begin to touch her in ways he hadn't in quite some time.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It almost tickled as his fingers started at her neck, and then began moving down past the small of her back.&lt;br /&gt;He then slid his hand across her shoulders and neck, slowly worked it down over one breast, then the other, stopping just over her lower stomach.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He then proceeded to place his hand on her left inner arm, caressed past the side of her breast again, working down her side, passed gently over and then in between her buttock and down her leg to her calf.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Then, he proceeded up her inner thigh, stopping just at the uppermost portion of her leg.  He continued in the same manner on her right side, then suddenly stopped, rolled over and became silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she had become quite aroused by this caressing, she asked in a loving voice, 'That was wonderful. &lt;br /&gt;Why did you stop?' 'I found the remote,' he said.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3626696571104899568?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3626696571104899568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3626696571104899568&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3626696571104899568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3626696571104899568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/40-years-of-marriage.html' title='40 YEARS OF MARRIAGE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-9035110552293349741</id><published>2009-10-07T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T20:44:44.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RETARDED GRANDPARENTS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in a big brick house but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Florida . Now they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on their bicycles and wear name tags because they don't know who they are anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They go to a building called a wreck center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, they do exercises there, but they don't do them very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a swimming pool too, but they all jump up and down in it with hats on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At their gate, there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape.  Sometimes they sneak out, and go cruising in their golf carts.  Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And, they eat the same thing every night --- early birds.  Some of the people can't get out past the man in the doll house.  The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked center for pot luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too.  When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the doll house.  Then I will let people out, so they can visit their grandchildren.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-9035110552293349741?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/9035110552293349741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=9035110552293349741&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/9035110552293349741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/9035110552293349741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/retarded-grandparents.html' title='RETARDED GRANDPARENTS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-5258059764564818680</id><published>2009-10-06T00:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:54:28.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DIRECTIONS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A little boy was waiting for his mother to come out of the grocery store. As he waited, he was approached by a man who asked, "Son, can you tell me where the Post Office is?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The little boy replied, "Sure!  Just go straight down this street a coupla blocks and turn to your right."&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; The man thanked the boy kindly and said, "I'm the new pastor in town.  I'd like for you to come to church on Sunday. I'll show you how to get to Heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The little boy replied with a chuckle. "Awww, come on... You don't even know the way to the Post Office."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-5258059764564818680?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/5258059764564818680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=5258059764564818680&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/5258059764564818680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/5258059764564818680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/directions.html' title='DIRECTIONS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6722691329111951663</id><published>2009-10-06T00:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:42:37.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE MAKING TIPS FOR SENIORS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;1. Wear your glasses. Make sure your partner is actually in the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Set timer for 3 minutes, in case you doze off in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.. Set the mood with lighting. (Turn them ALL OFF!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Make sure you put 911 on your speed dial before you begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Write partner's name on your hand in case you can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Keep the polygrip close by so your teeth don't end up under the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Have Tylenol ready in case you actually complete the act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Make all the noise you want... the neighbors are deaf too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. If it works, call everyone you know with the good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Don't even think about trying it twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I sent this in large type so you can read it.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6722691329111951663?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6722691329111951663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6722691329111951663&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6722691329111951663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6722691329111951663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-making-tips-for-seniors.html' title='LOVE MAKING TIPS FOR SENIORS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3486694199723526042</id><published>2009-10-06T00:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:35:54.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GOOD COME-BACK</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A man boarded a plane with 6 kids. After they got settled in their seats a woman sitting across the aisle from him leaned over to him and asked,&lt;br /&gt;"Are all of those kids yours?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied,"No. I work for a condom company. These are customer complaints."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3486694199723526042?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3486694199723526042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3486694199723526042&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3486694199723526042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3486694199723526042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/good-come-back.html' title='GOOD COME-BACK'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-388242745085532767</id><published>2009-10-06T00:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:30:53.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ONE LINERS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What is a Yankee? &lt;br /&gt;The same as a quickie, but a guy can do it alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the difference between a Harley and a Hoover? &lt;br /&gt;The position of the dirt bag &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is divorce so expensive? &lt;br /&gt;Because it's worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you see when the Pillsbury Dough Boy bends over? &lt;br /&gt;Doughnuts? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is air a lot like sex? &lt;br /&gt;Because it's no big deal unless you're not getting any &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you call a smart blonde? &lt;br /&gt;A golden retriever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do attorneys use for birth control? &lt;br /&gt;Their personalities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the fastest way to a man's heart? &lt;br /&gt;Through his chest with a sharp knife. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do men want to marry virgins? &lt;br /&gt;They can't stand criticism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so hard for women to find men that are sensitive, caring, and good-looking? &lt;br /&gt;Because those men already have boyfriends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the difference between a new husband and a new dog? &lt;br /&gt;After a year, the dog is still &lt;/strong&gt;excited to see you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-388242745085532767?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/388242745085532767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=388242745085532767&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/388242745085532767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/388242745085532767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-liners.html' title='ONE LINERS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3852256849716859211</id><published>2009-10-05T01:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T01:13:41.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ECONOMY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The economy is so bad that I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so bad, I ordered a burger at McDonalds and the kid behind the counter&lt;br /&gt;asked, "Can you afford fries with that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad that CEO's are now playing miniature golf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad if the bank returns your check marked "Insufficient&lt;br /&gt;Funds," you call them and ask if they meant you or them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad Hot Wheels and Matchbox stocks are trading higher&lt;br /&gt;than GM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad McDonalds is selling the 1/4 ouncer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad parents in Beverly Hills fired their nannies and&lt;br /&gt;learned their children's names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad a truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into&lt;br /&gt;Mexico .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad Dick Cheney took his stockbroker hunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad Motel Six won't leave the light on anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy  is so bad the Mafia is laying off judges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The economy is so bad Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  finally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congress says they are looking into this Bernard Madoff scandal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Great!  The guy who made $50 Billion disappear is being investigated by&lt;br /&gt;the people who made $1.5 Trillion disappear!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3852256849716859211?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3852256849716859211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3852256849716859211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3852256849716859211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3852256849716859211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/economy.html' title='THE ECONOMY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6876227255928327778</id><published>2009-10-05T01:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T01:03:15.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Normally I don't send or forward a lot of these, but even by my standards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was a bit touching. I want all of my friends to feel what I felt when I read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope it touches your heart like it did mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so beautiful.....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; A little boy says to his mother, "Mommy, how come I'm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;black and you're white?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  His mother replied, "Don't even go there! &lt;br /&gt;From what I can remember about that party, &lt;br /&gt;you're lucky you don't bark!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6876227255928327778?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6876227255928327778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6876227255928327778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6876227255928327778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6876227255928327778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/normally-i-dont-send-or-forward-lot-of.html' title=''/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3484820094164605536</id><published>2009-10-05T00:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T00:54:41.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE NEW PRIEST</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&gt; &gt; An Irish priest was transferred to Texas. Father O'Malley rose from&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; his bed one morning. It was a fine spring day in his new Texas mission&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; parish. He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; the beautiful day outside. He then noticed there was a jackass lying&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; dead in the middle of his front lawn.&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; He promptly called the local police station. The conversation went&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; like this: "Good morning. This is Sergeant Jones. How might I help&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; you?" "And the best of the day to yerself. This is Father O'Malley at&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; St. Ann 's Catholic Church. There's a jackass lying dead in me front&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; lawn and would ye be so kind as to send a couple o'yer lads to take&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;care of the matter?"&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; Sergeant Jones, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; a smirk, "Well now Father, it was always my impression that you people&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; took care of the last rites!"&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; There was dead silence on the line for a long moment...... Father&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; O'Malley then replied: "Aye, 'tis certainly true; but we are also&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; obliged to notify the next of kin first, which is the reason for me call."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3484820094164605536?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3484820094164605536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3484820094164605536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3484820094164605536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3484820094164605536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-priest.html' title='THE NEW PRIEST'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8514842110291618077</id><published>2009-10-05T00:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T00:46:11.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FISHING STORY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A man calls home to his wife and says, "Honey I have been&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Asked to go fishing at a big lake up in Canada with my boss&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; And several of his friends. We'll be gone for a week. This is&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; a good opportunity for me to get that promotion I've wanted so&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Would you please pack me enough clothes for a week and set out&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; My rod and tackle box. We're leaving from the office and I&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Will swing by the house to pick my things up. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Oh! Please pack My new blue silk pajamas." &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; The wife thinks this sounds a little fishy but being a good&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Wife she does exactly what her husband asked. The following&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Weekend he comes home a little tired but otherwise looking&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Good. The wife welcomes him home and asks if he caught many&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Fish? He says, "Yes! Lots of Walleye, some Bluegill, and a few&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Pike. But why didn't you pack my new blue silk pajamas like I&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; Asked you to do?" &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; The wife replies, "I did. They were in your tackle box!" &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8514842110291618077?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8514842110291618077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8514842110291618077&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8514842110291618077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8514842110291618077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/fishing-story.html' title='FISHING STORY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4631152965140103233</id><published>2009-10-05T00:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T00:38:34.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MIXED EMOTIONS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt; A husband and wife were sitting watching a TV program about Psychology and 'Mixed Emotions' - when the man turned to his wife and said, "honey that's a bunch of crap. I bet you can't tell me anything that will make me happy and sad at the same time." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replied, "You have the biggest penis among all your friends!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4631152965140103233?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4631152965140103233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4631152965140103233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4631152965140103233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4631152965140103233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/mixed-emotions.html' title='MIXED EMOTIONS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-9201088313344921298</id><published>2009-10-05T00:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T00:31:34.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE BLOND AND THE PREACHER</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;An Alabama preacher said to his congregation, 'Someone in this congregation has spread a rumor that I belong to the Ku Klux Klan. This is a horrible lie and one which a Christian community cannot tolerate. I am embarrassed and do not intend to accept this. Now, I want the party who did this to stand and ask forgiveness from God and this Christian Family.' &lt;br /&gt;No one moved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The preacher continued, 'Do you have the nerve to face me and admit this is a falsehood? Remember, you will be forgiven and in your heart you will feel glory Now stand and confess your transgression.' &lt;br /&gt;Again all was quiet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then slowly, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde with a body that would stop traffic rose from the third pew. Her head was bowed and her voice quivered as she spoke, 'Reverend there has been a terrible misunderstanding. I never said you were a member of the Ku Klux Klan. I simply told a couple of my friends that you were a wizard under the sheets.' &lt;br /&gt;The preacher fell to his knees, his wife fainted, and the congregation roared. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-9201088313344921298?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/9201088313344921298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=9201088313344921298&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/9201088313344921298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/9201088313344921298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/10/blond-and-preacher.html' title='THE BLOND AND THE PREACHER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1623285428226754361</id><published>2009-07-29T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T20:22:38.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MARRIAGE LINES</title><content type='html'>When a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;David Bissonette &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; After marriage, husband and wife become two sides of a coin; they just can't face each other, but still they stay together. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sacha Guitry &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  By all means marry. If you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher. &lt;br /&gt;Socrates &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman inspires us to great things, and prevents us from achieving them. &lt;br /&gt;Anonymous &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The great question... which I have not been able to answer... is, 'What does a woman want? &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Dumas &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I had some words with my wife, and she had some paragraphs with me. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sigmund Freud &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to a restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight, dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  'There's a way of transferring funds that is even faster than electronic banking. It's called marriage.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James Holt McGavran, Sr. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I've had bad luck with both my wives. The first one left me, and the second one didn't.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sam Kineston &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Two secrets to keep your marriage brimming &lt;br /&gt;1. Whenever you're wrong, admit it, &lt;br /&gt;2. Whenever you're right, shut up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick Murra &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most effective way to remember your wife's birthday is to forget it once.... &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ogden Nash &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You know what I did before I married? Anything I wanted to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My wife and I were happy for twenty years. Then we met. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Henny Youngman &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A good wife always forgives her husband when she's wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rodney Dangerfield &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A man inserted an 'ad' in the classifieds: 'Wife wanted'. Next day he received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: 'You can have mine.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;First Guy (proudly): 'My wife's an angel!' &lt;br /&gt;Second Guy: 'You're lucky, mine's still alive.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous &lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1623285428226754361?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1623285428226754361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1623285428226754361&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1623285428226754361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1623285428226754361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/07/marriage-lines.html' title='MARRIAGE LINES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3338120776799424618</id><published>2009-07-29T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T20:15:44.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BUBBA AND COOTER PICK-UP LINES</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) Did you fart?&lt;br /&gt;cuz you just blew me away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Are yer parents retarded?&lt;br /&gt;cuz ya sure are special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) My Love fer you is like diarrhea .&lt;br /&gt;I can't hold it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Do you have a library card?&lt;br /&gt;cuz I'd like to sign you out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Is there a mirror in yer pants?&lt;br /&gt;cuz I can see myself in em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) If you was a tree &amp; I was a Squirrel,&lt;br /&gt;I'd store my nuts in yer hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) You might not be the best lookin girl here,&lt;br /&gt;but beauty's only a light switch away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) I know I'm not no Fred Flintstone,&lt;br /&gt;but I bet I can make yer bed-rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Yer eyes are as blue as window cleaner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) If yer gunna regret this in the mornin,&lt;br /&gt;we kin sleep til afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND.. the best for last!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Yer face reminds me of a wrench,&lt;br /&gt;every time I think of it, my nuts tighten up &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3338120776799424618?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3338120776799424618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3338120776799424618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3338120776799424618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3338120776799424618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/07/bubba-and-cooter-pick-up-lines.html' title='BUBBA AND COOTER PICK-UP LINES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8757519194178952031</id><published>2009-05-27T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T23:01:07.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PUTTING YOUR AFFAIRS IN ORDER</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;The doctor, after an examination, sighed and said, 'I've some bad news. You have cancer, and you'd best put your affairs in order.’ The woman was shocked, but managed to compose herself and walk into the waiting room where her daughter had been waiting.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well daughter, we women celebrate when things are good, and we celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't well. I have cancer. Let's head to the club and have a martini.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 3 or 4 martinis, the two were feeling a little less somber. There were some laughs and more martinis. They were eventually approached by some of the woman's old friends, who were curious as to what the two were celebrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman told her friends they were drinking to her impending end. 'I've been diagnosed with AIDS.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friends were aghast, gave the woman their condolences and beat a hasty retreat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the friends left, the woman's daughter leaned over and whispered, 'Momma, I thought you said you were dying of cancer, and you just told your friends you were dying of AIDS! Why did you do that??'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Because I don't want any of those bitches sleeping with your father after I'm gone.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THAT, my friends, is what is called, 'Putting Your Affairs In Order'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8757519194178952031?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8757519194178952031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8757519194178952031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8757519194178952031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8757519194178952031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/putting-your-affairs-in-order.html' title='PUTTING YOUR AFFAIRS IN ORDER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1822521010750577981</id><published>2009-05-27T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T22:56:24.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>APHORISMS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;APHORISM: A SHORT, POINTED SENTENCE EXPRESSING A WISE&lt;br /&gt;OR CLEVER OBSERVATION OR A GENERAL TRUTH; ADAGE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The nicest thing about the future is that it always starts tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Money will buy a fine dog but only kindness will make him wag his tail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you don't have a sense of humor, you probably don't have any sense at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Seatbelts are not as confining as wheelchairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. A good time to keep your mouth shut is when you're in deep water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. How come it takes so little time for a child who is afraid of the dark to become a teenager who wants to stay out all night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Business conventions are important because they demonstrate how many&lt;br /&gt;people a company can operate without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Why is it that at class reunions you feel younger than everyone else looks ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Scratch a dog and you'll find a permanent job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 No one has more driving ambition than the boy who wants to buy a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11 There are no new sins; the old ones just get more publicity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 There are worse things than getting a call for a wrong number at 4 AM.&lt;br /&gt;Like this, it could be a right number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 No one ever says "It's only a game" when their team is winning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 I've reached the age where the happy hour is a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 Be careful reading the fine print. There's no way you're going to like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 The trouble with bucket seats is that not everybody has the same size bucket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 Money can't buy happiness - but somehow it's more comfortable to cry in a Corvette than in a Yugo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18 After 50 if you don't wake up with aches and pains, you are probably dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1822521010750577981?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1822521010750577981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1822521010750577981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1822521010750577981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1822521010750577981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/aphorisms.html' title='APHORISMS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6257763388681060280</id><published>2009-05-27T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T22:46:47.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GRAMPA AND VIAGRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;There was a family gathering, with all generations around the table.&lt;br /&gt;When he wasn't looking, mischievous teenagers put a Viagra tablet into Grandpa's drink. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, Grandpa excused himself because he had to go to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;When he returned, his trousers are wet all over.&lt;br /&gt;'What happened, Grandpa?' asked his concerned grand children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Well,' he answered, 'I don't really know. I had to go to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;So I took it out and started to pee, but then I noticed it wasn't mine, so I put it back!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6257763388681060280?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6257763388681060280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6257763388681060280&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6257763388681060280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6257763388681060280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/grampa-and-viagra.html' title='GRAMPA AND VIAGRA'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1767385875299239500</id><published>2009-05-27T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T22:27:17.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DEAR ABBY.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of women moved in across the hall from me. One is a&lt;br /&gt;middle-aged gym teacher and the other is a social worker in her mid twenties&lt;br /&gt;These two women go everywhere together and I've never seen a man go into&lt;br /&gt;or leave their apartment. Do you think they could be Lebanese?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;What can I do about all the Sex, Nudity, Fowl Language and Violence on&lt;br /&gt;My VCR?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;I have a man I can't trust. He cheats so much, I'm not even sure the&lt;br /&gt;baby I'm carrying is his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;I am a twenty-three year old liberated woman who has been on the pill&lt;br /&gt;for two years. It's getting expensive and I think my boyfriend should share&lt;br /&gt;half the cost, but I don't know him well enough to discuss money with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;I've suspected that my husband has been fooling around, and when&lt;br /&gt;confronted with the evidence, he denied everything and said it would never&lt;br /&gt;happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;Our son writes that he is taking Judo. Why would a boy who was raised&lt;br /&gt;in a good Christian home turn against his own?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;I joined the Navy to see the world. I've seen it. Now how do I get&lt;br /&gt;out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;My forty year old son has been paying a psychiatrist $50.00 an hour&lt;br /&gt;every week for two and a half years. He must be crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;I was married to Bill for three months and I didn't know he drank until&lt;br /&gt;one night he came home sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;My mother is mean and short tempered I think she is going through mental&lt;br /&gt;pause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;You told some woman whose husband had lost all interest in sex to send&lt;br /&gt;him to a doctor. Well, my husband lost all interest in sex and he IS a&lt;br /&gt;doctor. Now what do I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember these people can vote!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1767385875299239500?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1767385875299239500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1767385875299239500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1767385875299239500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1767385875299239500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/dear-abby.html' title='DEAR ABBY.....'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-123672819802803041</id><published>2009-05-26T17:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T17:24:43.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LIFE'S TRUTHS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Summary of Life &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;GREAT TRUTHS THAT LITTLE CHILDREN HAVE LEARNED: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;1) No matter how hard you try, you can't baptize cats. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;2) When your Mum is mad at your Dad, don't let her brush your hair. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;3) If your sister hits you, don't hit her back. They always catch the second person. 4) Never ask your 3-year old brother to hold a tomato. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;5) You can't trust dogs to watch your food. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;6) Don't sneeze when someone is cutting your hair. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;7) Never hold a Dust-Buster and a cat at the same time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;8) You can't hide a piece of broccoli in a glass of milk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;9) Don't wear polka-dot underwear under white shorts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;10) The best place to be when you're sad is Grandpa's lap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;GREAT TRUTHS THAT ADULTS HAVE LEARNED: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;1) Raising teenagers is like nailing jelly to a tree. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;2) Wrinkles don't hurt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;3) Families are like fudge....mostly sweet, with a few nuts &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;4) Today's mighty oak is just yesterday's nut that held its ground. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;5) Laughing is good exercise. It's like jogging on the inside. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;6) Middle age is when you choose your cereal for the fiber, not the toy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;GREAT TRUTHS ABOUT GROWING OLD &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;1) Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;2) Forget the health food. I need all the preservatives I can get. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;3) When you fall down, you wonder what else you can do while you're down there. 4) You're getting old when you get the same sensation from a rocking chair that you once got from a roller coaster. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;5) It's frustrating when you know all the answers but nobody bothers to ask you the questions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;6) Time may be a great healer, but it's a lousy beautician &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;7) Wisdom comes with age, but sometimes age comes alone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;1) You believe in Santa Claus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;2) You don't believe in Santa Claus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;3) You are Santa Claus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;4) You look like Santa Claus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;SUCCESS: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 4 success is . . . . Not piddling in your pants. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 12 success is . . . Having friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 17 success is . . . Having a driver's license. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 35 success is . . . having money. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 50 success is . . . Having money. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 70 success is . . . Having a drivers license. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 75 success is . . . Having friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;At age 80 success is . . . Not piddling in your pants. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Pass this on to someone who could use a laugh. Always remember to forget the troubles that pass your way; BUT NEVER forget the blessings that come each day. Have a wonderful day with many ! *smiles* Take the time to live!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-123672819802803041?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/123672819802803041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=123672819802803041&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/123672819802803041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/123672819802803041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/lifes-truths.html' title='LIFE&apos;S TRUTHS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3672653609400026255</id><published>2009-05-26T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T17:16:12.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PROGRESS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;A little known fact....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The first testicular guard "Cup" was used in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Hockey in 1874.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The first helmet was used in 1974.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It was 100 years, therefore, that it took for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;men to realize that the brain is also important. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3672653609400026255?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3672653609400026255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3672653609400026255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3672653609400026255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3672653609400026255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/progress.html' title='PROGRESS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-442422473784689185</id><published>2009-05-26T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T17:12:30.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A WONDERFUL THANK YOU LETTER</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This  letter was sent to the Lions Bay School Principal's office after the  school had sponsored a luncheon for seniors. An elderly lady received  a new radio at the lunch as a door prize and was writing to say thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This  story is a credit to all humankind. Forward to anyone you know who  might need a lift today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Dear  Lions Bay School ,God bless you for the beautiful radio I  won at your recent Senior Citizens luncheon. I am 84 years old and live at  the West Vancouver Home for the Aged. All of my family has passed  away. I am all alone and I want to thank you for the kindness shown to  a forgotten old lady. My roommate is 95 and has always had her own radio; but before I received one, she would never let me listen to  hers, even when she was napping. The other day her radio fell  off the nightstand and broke into a lot of pieces. It was awful and  she was in tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She asked if she could listen to mine,&lt;br /&gt;and I told her to fuck off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Thank you for that opportunity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Sincerely,Edna&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-442422473784689185?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/442422473784689185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=442422473784689185&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/442422473784689185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/442422473784689185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/wonderful-thank-you-letter.html' title='A WONDERFUL THANK YOU LETTER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4938132774187081181</id><published>2009-05-26T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T16:52:35.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW MEDICAL TERMS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Artery......................... The study of paintings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Bacteria...................... Back door to cafeteria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Barium........................What doctors do when patients die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Benign........................  What you be, after you be eight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Caesarean Section...... A neighbourhood in Rome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Catscan........................ Searching for Kitty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Cauterize......................Made eye contact with her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Colic............................. A sheep dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Coma.............................A punctuation mark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Dilate............................ To live long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Enema........................... Not a friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Fester............................ Quicker than someone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Fibula............................ A small lie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Impotent........................Distinguished, well known.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Labour Pain...................Getting hurt at work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Medical Staff..................A Doctor's cane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Morbid........................... A higher offer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Nitrates......................... Cheaper than day rates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Node.............................. I knew it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Outpatient.................... A person who has fainted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Pelvis............................. Second cousin to Elvis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Post Operative...............A letter carrier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Recovery Room..............Place to do upholstery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Rectum......................... Nearly killed him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Secretion...................... Hiding something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Seizure......................... Roman emperor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Tablet.......................... A small table.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Terminal Illness......... Getting sick at the airport.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Tumour........................One plus one more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Urine........................... Opposite of you're out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;2xCondoms..................To be sure, to be sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4938132774187081181?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4938132774187081181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4938132774187081181&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4938132774187081181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4938132774187081181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-medical-terms.html' title='NEW MEDICAL TERMS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4033132553198293659</id><published>2009-05-19T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T22:38:02.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MAN RULES</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Man Rules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;At last a guy has taken the time to write this all down   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally , the guys' side of the story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;( I must admit, it's pretty good.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We always hear "the rules" From the female side.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here are the rules from the male side.   &lt;br /&gt;These are our rules!Please note: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;these are all numbered "1 " ON PURPOSE!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.   Men are NOT mind readers.&lt;br /&gt;1. Learn to work the toilet seat.You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down.We need it up, you need it down.You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.&lt;br /&gt;1. Sunday sports It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides.Let it be.&lt;br /&gt;1. Crying is blackmail.&lt;br /&gt;1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work!Strong hints do not work!Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!&lt;br /&gt;1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.&lt;br /&gt;1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.&lt;br /&gt;1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become Null and void after 7 Days.&lt;br /&gt;1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.&lt;br /&gt;1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.&lt;br /&gt;1. You can either ask us to do somethingOr tell us how you want it done. Not both.If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.&lt;br /&gt;1. Whenever possible, Please say whatever you have to say during commercials.&lt;br /&gt;1. Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we.&lt;br /&gt;1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not A color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.&lt;br /&gt;1. If it itches, it will be scratched.We do that.&lt;br /&gt;1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," We will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying , but it is just not worth the hassle.&lt;br /&gt;1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, Expect an answer you don't want to hear.&lt;br /&gt;1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine... Really.&lt;br /&gt;1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as baseball, football, carsor golf.1. You have enough clothes.&lt;br /&gt;1. You have too many shoes.&lt;br /&gt;1. I am in shape.  Round IS a shape!&lt;br /&gt;1. Thank you for reading this.Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight;&lt;br /&gt;But did you know men really don't mind that? It's like camping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pass this to as many men as you can -- to give them a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;Pass this to as many women as you can -- to give them a bigger laugh.&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4033132553198293659?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4033132553198293659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4033132553198293659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4033132553198293659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4033132553198293659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/man-rules.html' title='THE MAN RULES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4674661737484407240</id><published>2009-05-19T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T22:18:00.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TEN RULES FOR DATING MY GRAND DAUGHTER</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Ten Rules for Dating My Grand Daughter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, s e x without utilising a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;s e x, I AM the barrier, and I will kill you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Five: It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.   Have a good day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#####     &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4674661737484407240?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4674661737484407240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4674661737484407240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4674661737484407240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4674661737484407240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/ten-rules-for-dating-my-grand-daughter.html' title='TEN RULES FOR DATING MY GRAND DAUGHTER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1582097968922831675</id><published>2009-05-19T22:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T22:12:24.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AN INCREDIBLE STORY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University ..&lt;br /&gt;On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air.&lt;br /&gt;The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully.&lt;br /&gt;He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it.&lt;br /&gt;As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife,&lt;br /&gt;after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.&lt;br /&gt;The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.&lt;br /&gt;Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son.&lt;br /&gt;As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and&lt;br /&gt;walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing.&lt;br /&gt;The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down.&lt;br /&gt;The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant.&lt;br /&gt;Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure.&lt;br /&gt;He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder.&lt;br /&gt;The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs&lt;br /&gt;and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably wasn't the same elephant.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1582097968922831675?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1582097968922831675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1582097968922831675&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1582097968922831675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1582097968922831675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/incredible-story.html' title='AN INCREDIBLE STORY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6871185532217053660</id><published>2009-05-19T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T22:06:28.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LITTLE JOHNNY.... AGAIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;A grade school teacher in Kentucky asked her students to use the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;word "fascinate" in a sentence. Molly put up her hand and said, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;"My family went to my grand dad's farm, and we all saw his pet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;sheep It was fascinating."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;The teacher said, "That was good, but I wanted you to use the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;word" fascinate, not fascinating".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Sally raised her hand. She said, "My family went to see Rock City&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;and I was fascinated."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;The teacher said, "Well, that was good Sally, but I wanted you to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;use the word "fascinate."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Little Johnny raised his hand. The teacher hesitated because she&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;had been burned by Little Johnny before. She finally decided&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;there was no way he could damage the word " fascinate", so she&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;called on him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Johnny said, "My aunt Gina has a sweater with ten buttons, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;but her tits are so big she can only fasten eight!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;The teacher sat down and cried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6871185532217053660?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6871185532217053660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6871185532217053660&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6871185532217053660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6871185532217053660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-johnny-again.html' title='LITTLE JOHNNY.... AGAIN'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-9186426149374557375</id><published>2009-05-10T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T00:22:36.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HOTEL RESERVATION</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;I booked into a hotel and said to the receptionist,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;"I hope the porn channel in my room is disabled."&lt;br /&gt;"No," she says, "it's regular porn, you sick SOB!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-9186426149374557375?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/9186426149374557375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=9186426149374557375&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/9186426149374557375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/9186426149374557375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/hotel-reservation.html' title='HOTEL RESERVATION'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1134843491308859801</id><published>2009-05-09T22:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T22:50:27.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CULTURAL DIFFERENCES</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;WHITE WOMEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;First date: You get to kiss her goodnight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second date: You get to grope all over and make out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Third date: You get to have sex, but only in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;missionary position. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;IRISH WOMENFirst Date:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;You both get blind drunk and have sex. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second Date: You both get blind drunk and have sex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;20th Anniversary: You both get blind drunk and have sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;ITALIAN WOMENFirst Date: You take her to a play and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;an expensive restaurant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second Date: You meet her parents and her Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;makes spaghetti and meatballs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Third Date: You have sex, she wants to marry you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;and insists on a 3-carat ring. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;5th Anniversary: You already have 5 kids together and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;hate the thought of having sex. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;6th Anniversary: You find yourself a girlfriend &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;JEWISH WOMEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;First Date: You get dynamite oral sex. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second Date: You get more, great oral sex. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Third Date: You tell her you'll marry her and you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;never get oral sex again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;CHINESE WOMEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;First date: You get to buy her an expensive dinner, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;but nothing happens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second date: You buy her an even more expensive &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;dinner. Nothing happens again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Third date: You don't even get to the third date and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;you already realized nothing is going to happen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;INDIAN WOMEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;First date: Meet her parents. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second date: Set the date of the wedding. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Third date: Wedding night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;BLACK WOMEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;First Date: You get to buy her a real expensive dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second Date: You get to buy her and her girlfriends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;a real expensive dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Third Date: You get to pay her rent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Tenth Date: She's pregnant by someone other than you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;MEXICAN WOMEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;First Date: You buy her an expensive dinner, get drunk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;on tequila, and have sex in the back of her car. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Second Date: She's pregnant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Third Date: She moves in. One week later, her mother, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;father, his girlfriend, her two sisters, her brother, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;all of their kids, her grandma, her father's girlfriend's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;mother, her two cousins, her sister's boyfriend and his&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;three kids move in .... and you live on rice and beans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;for the rest of your life in your home that used to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;nice, but now looks like a home along the Rio Grande. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;The POINT?&lt;br /&gt;DON'T YOU JUST LOVE IRISH WOMEN??!!&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1134843491308859801?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1134843491308859801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1134843491308859801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1134843491308859801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1134843491308859801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/white-womenfirst-date-you-get-to-kiss.html' title='CULTURAL DIFFERENCES'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7891595410134986219</id><published>2009-05-09T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T22:27:25.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>QUESTIONS OF LIFE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;If the professor on Gilligan's Island can make a radio out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in a boat?   &lt;br /&gt;Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;They're both dogs!   &lt;br /&gt;If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;why didn't he just buy dinner?   &lt;br /&gt;If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;vegetables, what is baby oil made from?   &lt;br /&gt;If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;morons?   &lt;br /&gt;Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;have the same tune?    &lt;br /&gt;Why did you just try singing the two songs  above?   &lt;br /&gt;Why do they call it an asteroid when it's outside the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when it's in your butt?   &lt;br /&gt;Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog's face, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;he gets mad at you, but when you take him  for a car ride,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;he sticks his head out the  window?   &lt;br /&gt;Do you ever wonder why you gave me your e-mail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;address in the first place?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;#####&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7891595410134986219?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7891595410134986219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7891595410134986219&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7891595410134986219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7891595410134986219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/questions-of-life.html' title='QUESTIONS OF LIFE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1663957853465313294</id><published>2009-05-09T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T22:20:53.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CLASS TIME</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;A teacher is explaining biology to her 4th grade students. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;'Human beings are the only animals that stutter,' she says. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;A little girl raises her hand. 'I had a kitty-cat who stuttered.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;could become, asked the girl to describe the incident. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;'Well', she began, 'I was in the back yard with my kitty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and the Rottweiler that lives next door got a running&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;start and before we knew it, he jumped over the fence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;into our yard!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;'That must've been scary,' said the teacher. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;'It sure was,' said the little girl. 'My kitty raised her back, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;went “Ffffff!, Ffffff!, FfffffF,” but before she could say 'Fuck!,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;'the Rottweiler ate her! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The teacher had to leave the room.&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1663957853465313294?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1663957853465313294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1663957853465313294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1663957853465313294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1663957853465313294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/class-time.html' title='CLASS TIME'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-3669615644300271388</id><published>2009-05-08T18:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T18:31:43.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LIFE LESSONS FROM MY MOTHER</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;25 REASONS I OWE MY MOTHER &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;1. My mother taught me: TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE .'If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;2. My mother taught me: RELIGION .'You better pray that will come out of the carpet.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;3. My mother taught me: TIME TRAVEL .'If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;4. My mother taught me: LOGIC .'Because I said so, that's why.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;5. My mother taught me: MORE LOGIC .'If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;6. My mother taught me: FORESIGHT .'Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;7. My mother taught me: IRONY 'Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS .'Shut your mouth and eat your supper.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;9. My mother taught me: CONTORTIONIST .'Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;10. My mother taught me about STAMINA .'You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;11. My mother taught me: WEATHER .'This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;12. My mother taught me: HYPOCRISY .'If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;13. My mother taught me: THE CIRCLE OF LIFE .'I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION .'Stop acting like your father!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;15. My mother taught me: ENVY .'There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION .'Just wait until we get home!!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;17. My mother taught me: RECEIVING .'You are going to get it when you get home!' 18. My mother taught me: MEDICAL SCIENCE .'If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;19. My mother taught me: ESP .'Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;20. My mother taught me: HUMOR.'When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;21. My mother taught me: HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT .'If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;22. My mother taught me: GENETICS. 'I swear you're just like your father.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS .'Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;24. My mother taught me: WISDOM 'When you get to be my age, you'll understand.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;25. And my favorite: My MOTHER TAUGHT ME ABOUT JUSTICE 'One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;##### &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a title="http://news.aol.com/main/politics/inauguration?ncid=" href="http://news.aol.com/main/politics/inauguration?ncid=emlcntusnews00000003" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a title="http://windowslive.com/explore?ocid=" href="http://windowslive.com/explore?ocid=TXT_TAGLM_WL_allup_1b_explore_032009" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-3669615644300271388?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/3669615644300271388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=3669615644300271388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3669615644300271388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/3669615644300271388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-lessons-from-my-mother.html' title='LIFE LESSONS FROM MY MOTHER'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7845562968085271855</id><published>2009-05-08T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T18:20:10.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>QUESTIONS THAT HAUNT</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Can you cry under water?   &lt;br /&gt;How important does a person have to be before they &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;are considered assassinated instead of just  murdered?   &lt;br /&gt;Why do you have to 'put your two cents in'... but  it's only a 'penny for your thoughts'?  Where's that extra penny going  to?   &lt;br /&gt;Once you're in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;you were buried in for eternity?  &lt;br /&gt;Why does a round pizza come in a square  box?   &lt;br /&gt;What disease did cured ham actually have?    &lt;br /&gt;How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put  wheels on luggage?   &lt;br /&gt;Why is it that people say they 'slept like a baby' when babies wake up like every two  hours?  &lt;br /&gt;If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing?   &lt;br /&gt;Why are you IN a movie, but you're ON TV?    &lt;br /&gt;Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the  ground?   &lt;br /&gt;Why do doctors leave the room while you  change?  They're  going to see you naked anyway.    &lt;br /&gt;Why is 'bra' singular and 'panties'  plural?   &lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7845562968085271855?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7845562968085271855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7845562968085271855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7845562968085271855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7845562968085271855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/questions-that-haunt.html' title='QUESTIONS THAT HAUNT'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-2351377487690232531</id><published>2009-05-08T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T17:50:43.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY WEDDING DRESSES ARE WHITE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Son asked his mother the following question: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;'Mom, why are wedding dresses white?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;The mother looks at her son and replies, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;'Son, this shows your friends and relatives &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;that your bride is pure.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;The son thanks his Mom and goes off to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;double-check this with his father. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;'Dad why are wedding dresses white?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;The father looks at his son in surprise and says,   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;'Son, all household appliances come in white.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;#####  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-2351377487690232531?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/2351377487690232531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=2351377487690232531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2351377487690232531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/2351377487690232531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-wedding-dresses-are-white.html' title='WHY WEDDING DRESSES ARE WHITE'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-951488747183587472</id><published>2009-05-05T22:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T22:15:38.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>INSULTS WITH CLASS</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;When Insults Had Class! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;These glorious insults are from an era when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;cleverness with words was still valued, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;before a great portion of the English language&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;got boiled down to 4-letter words....  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;1) The exchange between Churchill &amp;amp; Lady Astor: She said, 'If you were my husband I'd give you poison,' and he said, 'If you were my wife, I'd drink it.'  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;2) A member of Parliament to Disraeli: 'Sir, you will either die on the gallows or of some unspeakable disease.' 'That depends, Sir,' said Disraeli, 'whether I embrace your policies or your mistress.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;3) 'He had delusions of adequacy.' - Walter Kerr  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;4) 'He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.' - Winston Churchill  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;5) 'A modest little person, with much to be modest about.' - Winston Churchill  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;6) 'I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.'- Clarence Darrow  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;7) 'He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.' - William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;8) 'Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?' - Ernest Hemingway (about William Faulkner)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;9) 'Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I'll waste no time reading it.' - Moses Hadas  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;10) 'He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know.' - Abraham Lincoln  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;11) 'I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.' - Mark Twain  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;12) 'He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.' - Oscar Wilde  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;13) 'I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;friend...if you have one.' - George Bernard Shaw to Winston Churchill  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;14) 'Cannot possibly attend first night, will attend second... if there is one.' - Winston Churchill, in response.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;15) 'I feel so miserable without you; it's almost like having you here.' - Stephen Bishop  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;16) 'He is a self-made man and worships his creator.' - John Bright  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;17) 'I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial.' - Irvin S. Cobb  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;18) 'He is not only dull himself, he is the cause of dullness in others.' - Samuel Johnson  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;19) 'He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up.' - Paul Keating  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;20) 'There's nothing wrong with you that reincarnation won't cure.' Jack E. Leonard  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;21) 'He has the attention span of a lightning bolt.' - Robert Redford  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;22) 'They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge .' - Thomas Brackett Reed  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;23) 'In order to avoid being called a flirt, she always yielded easily.' - Charles, Count Talleyrand  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;24) 'He loves nature in spite of what it did to him.' - Forrest Tucker  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;25) 'Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?' - Mark Twain  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;26) 'His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork .' - Mae West  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;27) 'Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go.' - Oscar Wilde  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;28) 'He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts...for support rather than illumination.' - Andrew Lang (1844-1912)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;29) 'He has Van Gogh's ear for music.' - Billy Wilder  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;30) 'I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;But this wasn't it.' - Groucho Marx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;#####&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-951488747183587472?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/951488747183587472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=951488747183587472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/951488747183587472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/951488747183587472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/insults-with-class.html' title='INSULTS WITH CLASS'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-1739703833969026081</id><published>2009-05-05T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T21:38:07.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BLOND TIME</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Returning home from work, a blonde was shocked to find her house ransacked and burglarized. She telephoned the police at once and reported the crime.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;The police dispatcher broadcast the call on the radio, and a K-9 unit, patrolling nearby, was the first to respond. As the K-9 officer approached the house with his dog on a leash, the blonde ran out on the porch, shuddered at the sight of the cop and his dog, then sat down on the steps. Putting her face in her hands, she moaned, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;'I come home to find all my possessions stolen.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;I call the police for help, and what do they do?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;They send me a BLIND COP!!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-1739703833969026081?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/1739703833969026081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=1739703833969026081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1739703833969026081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/1739703833969026081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/blond-time.html' title='BLOND TIME'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-8711016780762452399</id><published>2009-05-05T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T21:35:53.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BLOND AGAIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Bambi, a blonde in her fourth year as a UCLA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Freshman, sat in her US Government class. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The professor asked Bambi if she knew what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Roe vs. Wade was about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Bambi pondered the question, then, finally, said, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;'That was the decision George Washington had &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;to make before he crossed the Delaware.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-8711016780762452399?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/8711016780762452399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=8711016780762452399&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8711016780762452399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/8711016780762452399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/blond-again.html' title='BLOND AGAIN'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-4871989167997332411</id><published>2009-05-04T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T22:26:38.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A CAT STORY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;   We were dressed and ready to go out for the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;New Years Eve Party. We  turned on a nightlight,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;turned the answering machine on, covered our  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;pet parakeet and put the cat in the backyard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;We phoned the local cab  company and requested &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;a taxi. The taxi arrived and we opened the  front &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;door to leave the house.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;The cat we put out in the back yard, scoots back &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;into the front door.   We didn't want the cat shut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;in the house because she always tries to  eat the bird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;My wife goes out to the taxi, while I went inside to  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;get the cat. The cat runs upstairs, with me in hot &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;pursuit.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Waiting in the cab, my wife doesn't want the driver &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;to know that the  house will be empty for the night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;So, she explains to the taxi  driver that I will be out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;soon, 'He's just going upstairs to say  Goodnight to my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;mother.'    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;A few minutes later, I get into the cab. 'Sorry I took so long,'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I  said, as we drove away. 'The old bat was hiding under the bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I had to poke her with a coat hanger to get her to come out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;She  tried to take off, so I grabbed her by the neck. Then, I had&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;to wrap  her in a blanket to keep her from scratching me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;But it worked! I  hauled her fat ass downstairs and threw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;her out into the back yard again!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;The cab driver hit a parked car....  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-4871989167997332411?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/4871989167997332411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=4871989167997332411&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4871989167997332411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/4871989167997332411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/cat-story.html' title='A CAT STORY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6622504140429615879</id><published>2009-05-04T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T20:05:25.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VIEWPOINT</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We're not old --&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;we're chronologically enhanced!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6622504140429615879?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6622504140429615879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6622504140429615879&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6622504140429615879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6622504140429615879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/viewpoint.html' title='VIEWPOINT'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-6003353912102003794</id><published>2009-05-04T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T19:54:46.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WONDERFUL RODNEY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;I can't see the big deal with calling a Pakistani a Paki. It's just the same as calling an Australian an Aussie, a Scotsman a Scot or a Frenchman a skunk… Whew!&lt;br /&gt;I was walking in a cemetery this morning and saw a guy hiding behind a gravestone. I said, "Morning!" He replied, "No, just taking a pee" .&lt;br /&gt;Went to my first Muslim birthday party last week.. The “Musical Chairs” was a bit slow…. but my God, “ Pass the Parcel” -- was quick!!!&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bike. Then I realised that the Lord doesn't work that way, so I stole one and asked him to forgive me.&lt;br /&gt; I'm not racist, racism is a crime, and crime is for black people.&lt;br /&gt;I was walking down the road when I saw an Afghan standing on a fifth floor balcony shaking a carpet.I shouted up to him, "What's up Abdul, won't it start?"&lt;br /&gt;I parked in a disabled space today and a traffic guy shouted, "Hey, what's your disability?" I said, "Tourettes! Now  - you.. ?&amp;amp;*^%)#... Get the *@^+$%  off my back!!                     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-6003353912102003794?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/6003353912102003794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=6003353912102003794&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6003353912102003794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/6003353912102003794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/wonderful-rodney.html' title='WONDERFUL RODNEY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1570711455739186004.post-7823872946055305051</id><published>2009-05-04T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T19:45:19.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THESE ARE PRETTY PUNNY</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;1. The roundest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He acquired his size from too much pi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island,but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;3. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;4. A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class because it was a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;weapon of math disruption.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;5. The butcher backed into the meat grinder and got a little behind in his work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;6. No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;7. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;8. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blown apart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;9. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;10. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;11. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;12. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;13. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other, 'You stay here; I'll go on a head.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;14. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;15. A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: 'Keep off the Grass.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;16. A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to a hospital. When his grandmother telephoned to ask how he was, a nurse said, 'No change yet.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;17. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;19. The short fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;20. The man who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;21. A backward poet writes inverse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;22. In democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism it's your count that votes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;23. When cannibals ate a missionary, they got a taste of religion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;24. Don't join dangerous cults: Practice safe sects!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;#####&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1570711455739186004-7823872946055305051?l=bobsjokepage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/feeds/7823872946055305051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1570711455739186004&amp;postID=7823872946055305051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7823872946055305051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1570711455739186004/posts/default/7823872946055305051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobsjokepage.blogspot.com/2009/05/these-are-pretty-punny.html' title='THESE ARE PRETTY PUNNY'/><author><name>BobsJokePage</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
