<?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-7656588643519615741</id><updated>2012-01-10T08:27:31.763-08:00</updated><category term='Medical'/><category term='SMS'/><category term='All'/><category term='Quotes'/><category term='Blind'/><category term='Doctor'/><category term='Office'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Lawyer'/><category term='Misunderstanding'/><category term='Teacher'/><category term='Old Age'/><category term='Thoughts'/><category term='Poem'/><category term='Barber'/><category term='Nude'/><category term='Science'/><category term='Intelligence'/><category term='Stupid'/><category term='Characters'/><category term='Politics'/><category term='Computer'/><category term='Profession'/><category term='Sales'/><category term='Husb/Wife'/><category term='Dirty'/><category term='Religious'/><category term='Animal'/><category term='Blonde'/><category term='Adult'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Software'/><category term='Alcohol'/><category term='Prince'/><category term='Q and A'/><category term='Heaven/Hell'/><category term='tmp'/><category term='Gay/Lesb'/><category term='Police'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>Jokes Log - Collection of Jokes, Humors &amp; Funny Stories</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a collection of jokes, humors &amp;amp; funny stories circulated over the internet &amp;amp; via emails.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Colin</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>352</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3179991051221619326</id><published>2012-01-10T08:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T08:10:28.541-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Q and A'/><title type='text'>Common between coulds &amp; wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What's common between Clouds &amp;amp; Wife... ???&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;"When both are not around; We call it a Pleasant Day...!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3179991051221619326?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3179991051221619326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3179991051221619326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2012/01/common-between-coulds-wife.html' title='Common between coulds &amp; wife'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3533938478892590770</id><published>2012-01-10T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T08:04:19.237-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SMS'/><title type='text'>Dracula Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; 1969 : Dracula used to drink virgin girls blood !!&lt;br /&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;In 2012 : Dracula died of hunger :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3533938478892590770?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3533938478892590770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3533938478892590770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2012/01/dracula-joke.html' title='Dracula Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1398863232078811767</id><published>2012-01-10T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T07:56:04.148-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husb/Wife'/><title type='text'>Cheating Husband Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lady 1 : I think my Husband is Cheating on me!! &lt;br /&gt;Lady 2 : How did you conclude that ?&lt;br /&gt;Lady 1 : Yesterday he said that he was with John last night for a party But I was with John Last night !! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1398863232078811767?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1398863232078811767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1398863232078811767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2012/01/cheating-husband-joke.html' title='Cheating Husband Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3820024882109816549</id><published>2011-12-27T00:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T00:32:22.496-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Q and A'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Superb Answers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Answers of a Brilliant student who obtained 0%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. In which battle did Tipu Sultan died?&lt;br /&gt;A. His last battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Where was the Declaration of IndependanceSigned?&lt;br /&gt;A. At the Bottom of the Page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Ganga flows in which state?&lt;br /&gt;A. Liquid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Whats the main reason for Divorce?&lt;br /&gt;A. Marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Whats the main reason for Failure?&lt;br /&gt;A. Examinations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did the student Answer Anything Wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They should fire the examiner who set those questions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3820024882109816549?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3820024882109816549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3820024882109816549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2011/12/superb-answers.html' title='Superb Answers'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1539629821040990202</id><published>2011-12-26T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T22:58:17.698-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven/Hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religious'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Holy Father</title><content type='html'>&lt;b style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;It was time for Father John's Saturday night bath and young Sister Magdalene had prepared the bath water and towels just the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;way the old nun had instructed. Sister Magdalene was also instructed not to look at Father John's nakedness if she could&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; help it, do whatever he told her to do and pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning the old nun asked Sister Magdalene how the Saturday night bath had gone.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Oh, Sister" said the young nun dreamily. "I've been saved."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Saved? And how did that come about?" asked the old nun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, when Father John was soaking in the tub, he asked me to wash him, and while I was washing him he guided my hand down&amp;nbsp;between his legs where he said the Lord keeps the Key to Heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did he now..." said the old nun evenly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister Magdalene continued, "And Father John said that if the Key to Heaven fit my lock, the portals of Heaven would be opened to&amp;nbsp;me and I would be assured of salvation and eternal peace. And then Father John guided his key to Heaven into my lock."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that a fact..." said the old nun, even more evenly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At first it hurt terribly, but Father John said the pathway to salvation was often painful but that the glory of God would soon&amp;nbsp;swell my heart with ecstasy. And it did, it felt good being saved."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That son-of-a..." muttered the old nun, "he told &lt;i&gt;ME&lt;/i&gt; it was Gabriel's Horn and I've been blowing it for forty years!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1539629821040990202?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1539629821040990202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1539629821040990202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2011/12/holy-father.html' title='Holy Father'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7671879003900525642</id><published>2011-03-01T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T07:55:59.798-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>All for a Kiss</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;One night a guy dropped his girlfriend at her home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they were about to wish each other good night at the front door, the guy started feeling a little more romantic. With an air of confidence, he leaned with his hand against the wall and smiling, he said to her&lt;br /&gt;"Honey, would you give me a kiss ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horrified, she replied, "Are you mad? My parents will see us!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Oh come on! Who's gonna see us at this hour?"&lt;br /&gt;He asked grinning at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" No, please. Can you imagine if we get caught?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh come on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nobody around, they're all sleeping!".&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;" No way, it's just too risky!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Oh please, please, I love you so much?!?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" No, no, and no. I love you too, but I just can't!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes you can. Please?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" No, no. I just can't" " I'm begging you ... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly.....Out of the blue, the light on the stairs went on, and&amp;nbsp;the girl's elder sister showed up in her pajamas, hair dishevelled,&lt;br /&gt;And in a sleepy voice she said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dad says to go ahead and give him a kiss, or I can do it. Or if needed, mom says she can come down herself and do it, but for God's sake ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TELL HIM TO TAKE HIS HAND OFF THE DOOR BELL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7671879003900525642?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7671879003900525642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7671879003900525642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2011/03/all-for-kiss.html' title='All for a Kiss'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8214089044848909236</id><published>2011-03-01T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T07:51:02.041-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Why are you committing suicide?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A tough looking biker was riding his Harley when he sees a&amp;nbsp;pretty&amp;nbsp;girl about to jump off a bridge so he stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing?" he asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to commit suicide," she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While he did not want to appear insensitive, he didn't want to miss an opportunity, so he asked "Well, before you jump, why don't you give me a Kiss?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she's finished, the biker says, "Wow! That was the best Kiss I've ever had. That's a real talent you are wasting. You could be famous. Why are you committing suicide?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My parents don't like me dressing up like a girl... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biker commited suicide... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8214089044848909236?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8214089044848909236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8214089044848909236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2011/03/why-are-you-committing-suicide.html' title='Why are you committing suicide?'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6437469597411280865</id><published>2011-02-23T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T07:53:47.182-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husb/Wife'/><title type='text'>Wife's mobile number</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A newly married husband saved his wife's mobile number on his mobile as "My life"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After one year of marriage he changed the number to "My Wife"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 2 years of marriage he changed the number to "Home"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 5 years of marriage he changed the number to "Hitler"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 10 years of marriage he changed the number to "Wrong Number"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6437469597411280865?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6437469597411280865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6437469597411280865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2011/02/wifes-mobile-number.html' title='Wife&apos;s mobile number'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-2792831486812587125</id><published>2011-02-23T07:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T07:50:38.807-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intelligence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal'/><title type='text'>Duck Hunter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A duck hunter went hunting one day in Scotland and bagged three ducks.&lt;br /&gt;He put them in the bed of his truck and was about to drive home when he was confronted by an ornery game warden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game warden ordered the hunter to show his hunting license, and the hunter pulled out a valid Scottish hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game warden looked at the license, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed its bottom, and said, "This duck ain't from Scotland. This is a Welsh duck. You got a Welsh hunting' license, lad?" The hunter reached into his wallet and produced a Welsh hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed its bottom, and said "This ain't no Welsh duck. This duck's from Ireland . You got a Irish license?" The hunter reached into wallet and produced an Irish hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck, sniffed its bottom, and said, "This ain't no Irish duck. This here duck's from England . You got an English huntin' license?" Again the hunter reached into his wallet and brought out an English hunting license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the hunter "Just where the hell are you from???!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hunter turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said, "You tell me, you're the expert".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-2792831486812587125?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2792831486812587125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2792831486812587125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2011/02/duck-hunter.html' title='Duck Hunter'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-2220353952315647923</id><published>2011-02-01T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T06:21:41.836-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husb/Wife'/><title type='text'>Oh... I'm sorry to hear that</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A man had two of the best tickets for the World Cup Final. As he sits down,another man comes along and asks if anyone is sitting in the seat next to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No", he says, "the seat is empty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is incredible!" said the man, "who in their ri...ght mind would have a&amp;nbsp;seat like this for the FA Cup Final, the biggest sporting event of the universe, and not use it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Well, actually, the seat belongs to me. My wife was supposed to&amp;nbsp;come with me, but she passed away. This is the first Cup Final we haven't&amp;nbsp;been together since we got married."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible. I guess you couldn't find&amp;nbsp;someone else, a friend or relative or even a neighbour to take the seat?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man shakes his head... "No. They're all at the funeral." :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-2220353952315647923?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2220353952315647923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2220353952315647923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2011/02/oh-im-sorry-to-hear-that.html' title='Oh... I&apos;m sorry to hear that'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6325502643908392749</id><published>2010-06-21T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T07:15:44.436-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>I just love hearing it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A guy phoned to his Boss, but gets the bosses' wife instead.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm afraid he died last week." she explains. The next day the guy calls again and asks for the boss. "I told you yeasterday" the wife replies, "He died last week". The next day he calls again and once more asks to speak to his boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time the wife is getting upset and shouts, "I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU...&amp;nbsp;TWICE, MY HUSBAND, YOUR BOSS, DIED LAST WEEK! WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied laughing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just love hearing it..."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6325502643908392749?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6325502643908392749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6325502643908392749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/06/i-just-love-hearing-it.html' title='I just love hearing it'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-2135090411031132551</id><published>2010-06-11T00:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T00:10:23.325-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Defence for speeding</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A senior citizen drove his brand new BMW Z4 convertible out of the car salesroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking off down the motorway, he floored it to 120mph;&lt;br /&gt;enjoying the wind blowing through what little hair he had left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Amazing!" he thought as he flew down the M4, enjoying pushing the pedal to the floor even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw a police car behind him, blue lights flashing and siren blaring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can get away from him - no problem!" thought the elderly nutcase as he floored it to 140mph, then 150 then 160.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, he thought, "What on earth am I doing? I'm too old for this nonsense!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he pulled over to the side of the road and waited for the police car to catch up with him.&lt;br /&gt;Pulling in behind him, the police officer walked up the driver's side of the BMW, looked at his watch and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, my shift ends in 10 minutes. Today is Friday and I'm taking off for the weekend. If you can give me a reason why you were speeding that I've never heard before, I'll let you go."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The old man, looked very seriously at the policeman and replied,&lt;br /&gt;"Years ago my wife ran off with a policeman. I thought you were bringing her back."&lt;br /&gt;"Have a good day, Sir", said the policeman.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-2135090411031132551?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2135090411031132551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2135090411031132551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/06/defence-for-speeding.html' title='Defence for speeding'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-164907212751267512</id><published>2010-06-05T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T21:19:49.346-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husb/Wife'/><title type='text'>Some Husband &amp; Wife Jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Husband: Do you know the meaning of W I F E?&lt;br /&gt;It means, Without Information, Fighting Everytime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife: No darling, it means, With Idiot For Ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife: I wish I was a newspaper, So I'd be in your hands all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband: I too wish that you were a newspaper, so I could have a new one everyday.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-164907212751267512?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/164907212751267512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/164907212751267512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/06/some-husband-wife-jokes.html' title='Some Husband &amp; Wife Jokes'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6424414945607479504</id><published>2010-06-05T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T20:56:34.372-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Call from doctor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A patient receives a phone call from his doctor.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says, "I have some good news and some bad news."&lt;br /&gt;The patient  says, "OK, give me the good news first."&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says, "The good news is, you have 24 hours to live."&lt;br /&gt;The patient replies, "Oh no! my god!! If that's the good news, then what's the bad news?"&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says, "The bad news is, I forgot to tell you that yesterday."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6424414945607479504?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6424414945607479504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6424414945607479504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/06/call-from-doctor.html' title='Call from doctor'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1993272933343885277</id><published>2010-06-05T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T20:57:24.329-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Blond guy Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A blond guy and a brunette girl were happily married and about to have a baby. One day, the wife started having contractions, so the husband admitted her to the hospital immediately. He held her hand as she went through trying a birth. In the end, there were two little baby boys.&lt;br /&gt;The blond guy turned to his wife slaps her and angrily asked, "Who is the other's father?!!!!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1993272933343885277?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1993272933343885277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1993272933343885277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/06/blond-guy-joke.html' title='Blond guy Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1673722279336229714</id><published>2010-06-05T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T20:57:24.331-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Q and A'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Q &amp; A Jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Q: What will happen if Franklin did not discover the electricity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Nothing, but we must watch TV in candle light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is difference between Orange and Apple?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Color of Orange is orange, but color of Apple is not Apple.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1673722279336229714?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1673722279336229714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1673722279336229714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/06/q-jokes.html' title='Q &amp; A Jokes'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7604568940342713245</id><published>2010-06-05T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T20:49:20.464-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Official Love Letter-Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Dearest Ms Juliet,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very happy to inform you that, I have fallen in Love with you since the 18th of September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With reference to the meeting held between us on the 18th of Sept . at 1500 hrs, I would like to present myself as a prospective lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our love affair would be on probation for a period of six months and depending on compatibility, would be made permanent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, upon completion of probation, there will be continuous on the job training and performance appraisal schemes leading up to promotion from lover to spouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The expenses incurred for coffee and entertainment would initially be shared equally between both of us. Later, based on your performance, I might take up a larger share or full amount of the expenses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However I am broadminded enough to be taken care of, on your expense account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I request you to kindly respond within 14 days of receiving this letter, failing which, this offer would be cancelled without further notice and I shall be considering someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would be happy, if you could forward this letter to your sister, if you do not wish to take up this offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish you all the best!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanking you in anticipation,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Romeo (HR Manager)  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7604568940342713245?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7604568940342713245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7604568940342713245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/06/official-love-letter-joke.html' title='Official Love Letter-Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-14218027528090085</id><published>2010-05-28T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:32:02.458-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Software'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>MS Office - Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A blonde attending an interview of a software company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer: Do you know MS Office?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blonde : ummm.... No... But If you give me the address I will go there sir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-14218027528090085?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/14218027528090085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/14218027528090085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/05/ms-office-joke.html' title='MS Office - Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5640279793842951029</id><published>2010-05-28T02:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:32:02.460-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Opposite Sentences - Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher to her students: Ok tell me what is the opposite of this sentence:&lt;br /&gt;                              "Children in the dark make mistakes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Tony: "Mistakes in the dark make children" ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5640279793842951029?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5640279793842951029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5640279793842951029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/05/opposite-sentences-joke.html' title='Opposite Sentences - Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-918469618299558152</id><published>2010-05-28T02:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:32:02.461-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husb/Wife'/><title type='text'>Three eras of marriage - Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first era of marriage, the man speaks and the woman listens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second era, the woman speaks and the man listens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the third era of marrage, they both speak and the neighbors listen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-918469618299558152?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/918469618299558152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/918469618299558152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/05/three-eras-of-marriage-joke.html' title='Three eras of marriage - Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-315207981598615485</id><published>2010-05-18T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:32:02.464-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Opposite of Laughing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A teacher asks her students:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is the opposite of laughing?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Little Tony says: "5ex!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The teacher: "Shame on you bastard! How can you say that?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Tony: "Laughing is...." "Ha ha ha"&lt;br /&gt;      "5ex is...." "Ah ah ah"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher fainted...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-315207981598615485?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/315207981598615485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/315207981598615485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/05/opposite-of-laughing.html' title='Opposite of Laughing'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1120610005512969348</id><published>2010-05-18T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:32:02.466-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Having Children in Old Ages Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question  : "Should Women have children after 40?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sardar replied : "No!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because 40 children are more than enough!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1120610005512969348?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1120610005512969348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1120610005512969348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/05/having-children-in-old-ages-joke.html' title='Having Children in Old Ages Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1160575676259237880</id><published>2010-05-11T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:32:02.467-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SMS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>I Miss You Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sardar received a SMS from his girl friend: "I MISS YOU"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sardarji immediately  replied: "I Mr YOU" !!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1160575676259237880?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1160575676259237880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1160575676259237880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/05/i-miss-you-joke.html' title='I Miss You Joke'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3557728486248058149</id><published>2010-04-19T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T10:55:33.952-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prince'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Saudi Prince School Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudi Prince goes to a England school to study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month later, he sends a letter to his farther saying:&lt;br /&gt;"London is wonderful, climate is good &amp;amp; people are friendly. I really like it here, But I'm a bit ashamed to arrive to school&lt;br /&gt;with my gold Mercedes when all of my teachers travel by train."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some days, He gets a letter from his farther with a hundred million dollar check saying:&lt;br /&gt;"Stop embarrassing us son!....go and get yourself a train too"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3557728486248058149?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3557728486248058149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3557728486248058149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/04/saudi-prince-school-days.html' title='Saudi Prince School Days'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3196212998623663295</id><published>2010-04-15T03:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T03:37:52.718-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Basketball court in heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John &amp; Michael were two close friends playing basketball together.  They want to know if there is a basketball court in heaven. They made a promise each-other that if ever who is the first to die, will comeback to tell if there is a court in heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John first to died.&lt;br /&gt;One mid night, Michael hear John's voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John: "Hi Michael I'm John."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: "Really, How is it, is there a basketball court in heaven?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John: "I have a good news and a bad news for you... The good news is there's a basket ball court in heaven. The bad news is you are going to be a member of the team that we are planning to complete tomorrow".&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3196212998623663295?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3196212998623663295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3196212998623663295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/04/basketball-court-in-heaven.html' title='Basketball court in heaven'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5343869439076564400</id><published>2010-04-15T03:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T03:32:11.080-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Mistakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a barber makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a driver makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a New Path&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If an engineer makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new venture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If parents makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a politician makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a scientist makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new invention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a tailor makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a teacher makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If our boss makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a new idea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If an employee makes a mistake,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;It is a Mistake Only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5343869439076564400?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5343869439076564400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5343869439076564400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/04/mistakes.html' title='Mistakes'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8247722994225547730</id><published>2010-04-15T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T03:29:15.066-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Three Easy Ways to Die</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a Cigar Daily - You will die ten Years Early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drink Wiskey Daily - You will die twenty Years Early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Someone Truly - You will die Daily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8247722994225547730?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8247722994225547730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8247722994225547730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/04/three-easy-ways-to-die.html' title='Three Easy Ways to Die'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-176627662386883529</id><published>2010-04-14T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T20:37:19.232-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Blonde eat pizza</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A blonde went to have a pizza and after ordering, the assistant asked her if she would like her pizza cut into four pieces or into eight pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Four please" she said, "I could never eat eight pieces!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-176627662386883529?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/176627662386883529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/176627662386883529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/04/blonde-eat-pizza.html' title='Blonde eat pizza'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6338953044895153953</id><published>2010-03-27T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T07:58:27.599-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Two view points</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt; Two female co-workers are having a conversation at work:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you have a good sex last night?&lt;br /&gt;Oh Nooo. what a disaster it was... Hubby came home, got his dinner in three minutes, got on top of me, finished having sex in four minutes, rolled over and fell asleep in two minutes.. How about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh it was amazing sweet dreams... My hubby came home. He took me out for a romantic dinner. After dinner we had a walk for an hour. After we came home he lit the candles around the house and we had an hour of foreplay. After that we had an hour long fantastic sex and after sex we talked for an hour. It was like in a fairytale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;At the same time their husbands were talking at work:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you have a good sex last night?&lt;br /&gt;Aha... why not?,  It was great! I came home, dinner was on the table,  ate, screwed my wife and fell asleep. What about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh It was horrible nightmare. I came home, there's no dinner because they cut the electricity cause we didn't pay the bill. So I had to take my wife out to a dinner and the dinner was very expensive so that we didn't have money for a cab. Then we had to walk home for an hour. I was so angry when we came home that I couldn't get it up for an hour and then I couldn't cum for another hour. After I finally did I was so mad and aggravated that I couldn't fall asleep for another hour.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6338953044895153953?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6338953044895153953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6338953044895153953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/03/two-view-points.html' title='Two view points'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6044519985167160348</id><published>2010-03-20T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T10:06:46.871-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Taxi Driver</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A naked and drunken woman boards to a taxi in Chicago one night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The taxi driver keeps staring at her and does not start the taxi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: “Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driver: “I’m not staring at you madam…........................ &lt;br /&gt;Just wondering where have you kept the money to pay the taxi charges.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6044519985167160348?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6044519985167160348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6044519985167160348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/03/taxi-driver.html' title='Taxi Driver'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7430747789496141195</id><published>2010-02-24T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T08:45:02.200-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Pass Gas in Public (Fart in Public)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Comic Sans MS; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;One day Tony was in a restaurant, when he suddenly  realized that he desperately needed to pass gas. The music was really,  really loud, so he timed his gas with the beat of the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After  a couple of songs, he started to feel better. He finished his coffee,  and noticed that everybody was staring at him.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he  suddenly remembered that he was listening to his MP3 player. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7430747789496141195?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7430747789496141195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7430747789496141195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/02/pass-gas-in-public-fart-in-public.html' title='Pass Gas in Public (Fart in Public)'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8677464712356976909</id><published>2010-02-24T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T08:45:29.665-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Q and A'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intelligence'/><title type='text'>Test Your Vocabulary</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FILL IN THE BLANKS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           1.  BOO_S ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           2.  _ _ NDOM ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           3.  F_ _K ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           4.  P_N_S ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           5.  PU_S_ ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ANSWERS: Highlight Below :) (If u r not familiar with highlighting just press CTRL + A)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;1.  BOOKS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  2.  RANDOM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  3.  FORK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  4.  PANTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  5.  PULSE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8677464712356976909?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8677464712356976909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8677464712356976909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/02/test-your-vocabulary.html' title='Test Your Vocabulary'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1632458786201131174</id><published>2010-02-07T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T09:43:14.137-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>What A Coincidence!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;color:#000080;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A chicken farmer  went to a local bar.... Sat next&lt;br /&gt;to a woman and ordered a glass of champagne..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman perks up and says, 'How about that? I&lt;br /&gt;just ordered a glass of champagne, too!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What a coincidence' the farmer says. 'This is a&lt;br /&gt;special day for me.... I am celebrating'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'This is a special day for me too, I am also&lt;br /&gt;celebrating!' says the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What a coincidence!' says the farmer! As they&lt;br /&gt;clinked glasses the man asked, 'What are you&lt;br /&gt;celebrating?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My husband and I have been trying to have a child&lt;br /&gt;and today my gynecologist told me that I am&lt;br /&gt;pregnant!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What a coincidence,' says the man. 'I'm a chicken&lt;br /&gt;farmer and for years all of my hens were infertile,&lt;br /&gt;but today they are all laying fertilized eggs.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'That's great!' says the woman. 'How did your&lt;br /&gt;chickens become fertile?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I used a different cock,' he replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman smiled and said, 'What a coincidence.'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1632458786201131174?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1632458786201131174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1632458786201131174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2010/02/what-coincidence.html' title='What A Coincidence!'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1253000234409735944</id><published>2009-12-08T07:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:02:38.181-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal'/><title type='text'>A Tragedy Love Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A pig fell in love with a hen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day they kissed each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day pig died of bird flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hen died of swine flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1253000234409735944?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1253000234409735944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1253000234409735944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/12/tragedy-love-story.html' title='A Tragedy Love Story'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-399916465094543100</id><published>2009-11-03T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:03:54.487-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Baby care (Joke)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A woman and a baby were in the doctor's examining lab, waiting for the doctor to come in for the baby's latest exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor arrived, and examined the baby, measured his weight, saw it was&lt;br /&gt;a little below the normal, and being a little concerned, asked if the baby was breast-fed or bottle-fed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Breast-fed" she replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, strip down to your waist" the doctor ordered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did. He pinched her nipples, pressed, kneaded, and rubbed both breasts&lt;br /&gt;for a while in a very professional and detailed examination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Motioning to her to get dressed, the doctor said, "No wonder this baby is&lt;br /&gt;underweight. You don't have any milk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I know" she said, "I'm his Grandma, but I'm glad I came."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-399916465094543100?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/399916465094543100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/399916465094543100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/11/baby-care-joke.html' title='Baby care (Joke)'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-9203750784518709275</id><published>2009-11-01T23:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:05:06.256-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intelligence'/><title type='text'>Can you sell a dead donkey?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A city boy, Kenny, moved to the country and bought a donkey from an old farmer for $100.00. The farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the farmer drove up and said, "Sorry son, but I have some bad news, the donkey died last night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kenny:&lt;/span&gt; "Well then, just give me my money back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Farmer:&lt;/span&gt; "Can't do that. I went and spent it already."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kenny:&lt;/span&gt; "OK then, just unload the donkey.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Farmer:&lt;/span&gt; "What are you going to do with this dead donkey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kenny:&lt;/span&gt; "I'm going to raffle him off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Farmer:&lt;/span&gt; "You can't raffle off a dead donkey!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kenny:&lt;/span&gt; "Sure I can. Watch me. I just won't tell anybody he's dead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month later the farmer met up with Kenny and asked,&lt;br /&gt;"What happened with that dead donkey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kenny:&lt;/span&gt; "I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at two dollars a piece and made a profit of $898.00."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Farmer:&lt;/span&gt; "Didn't anyone complain?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kenny:&lt;/span&gt; "Just the guy who won. So I gave him back his two dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kenny grew up and eventually became the chairman of Enron.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-9203750784518709275?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9203750784518709275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9203750784518709275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/11/can-you-sell-dead-donkey.html' title='Can you sell a dead donkey?'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6787509534180571142</id><published>2009-10-30T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:06:39.301-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal'/><title type='text'>The  Parrot (Joke)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A  woman went to a pet shop and immediately spotted a large, beautiful  parrot..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There  was a sign on the cage that said $50.00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why so little," she  asked the pet store owner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The owner looked at her and said, &lt;br /&gt;"Look, I should tell you first that this bird used to live in a  house of Prostitution and sometimes it says some pretty vulgar  stuff."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  woman thought about this, but decided she had to have the bird any  way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took it home and hung the bird's cage up in her  living room and waited for it to say something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bird looked  around the room, then at her, and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"New  house, new madam."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  woman was a bit shocked at the implication, but then thought "that's  really not so bad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When her 2 teenage daughters returned from  school the bird saw and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"New  house, new madam, new girls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls and the woman were a bit  offended but then began to laugh about the situation considering  how and where the parrot had been raised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments later, the  woman's husband Keith came home from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bird looked at  him and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Hi,  Keith!" .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6787509534180571142?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6787509534180571142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6787509534180571142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/parrot-joke.html' title='The  Parrot (Joke)'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-4080580397494083567</id><published>2009-10-29T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:07:15.970-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Scaring the kids!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; A woman gets home early from shopping and hears strange noises coming from the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;She rushes upstairs to find her husband naked on the bed  sweating and panting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong?" she asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm having a heart attack" cries the husband..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman rushes downstairs to grab the phone, but just as she's dialing, her four-year-old son comes up and says, "Mommy! Mommy! Aunt Lucy is hiding in your wardrobe, and she's got no clothes on!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The woman slams the phone down and storms upstairs  into the bedroom, right past her husband, and rips open the wardrobe door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, there is her sister, totally naked and cowering on the wardrobe floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'You rotten Bi*ch", she screams,  "My husband's having a heart attack, and you're running around naked scaring the kids!!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-4080580397494083567?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4080580397494083567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4080580397494083567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/scaring-kids.html' title='Scaring the kids!!!'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7505895950587377838</id><published>2009-10-29T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:07:57.134-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Amdon faced to an Interview</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; In an interview,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer: How does an electric motor run?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amdon: Druumrrr... ruuu.... druuuuu....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inteviewer shouts: Stop it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amdon: Drrr drup drup drup....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7505895950587377838?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7505895950587377838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7505895950587377838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/amdon-faced-to-interview.html' title='Amdon faced to an Interview'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-729015623861436006</id><published>2009-10-29T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:08:33.369-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Tony at the museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Museum Admin: That is a 500 years old statue you have broken...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony: Thanks God!!! I thought it was a new one.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-729015623861436006?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/729015623861436006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/729015623861436006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/tony-at-museum.html' title='Tony at the museum'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-338916338523401265</id><published>2009-10-29T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:09:14.817-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Keyboard alphabet not in order</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Amdon joined new job.&lt;br /&gt;first day he worked till late evening on the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boss was very happy and asked what you did till evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amdon: Keyboard alphabet were not in order, so I made it alright.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-338916338523401265?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/338916338523401265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/338916338523401265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/keyboard-alphabet-not-in-order.html' title='Keyboard alphabet not in order'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3419304974354079130</id><published>2009-10-29T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:09:53.191-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Cars Start with TEA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Tony: What is the name of your car?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane: mmm.. I forgot the name, but it starts with 'T'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony: Oh!!!, what a strange car, starts with Tea. All cars that I know start with petrol.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3419304974354079130?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3419304974354079130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3419304974354079130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/cars-start-with-tea.html' title='Cars Start with TEA'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3842640607814410041</id><published>2009-10-29T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:10:27.834-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Amdon Fixing a Bomb (Amdon Joke)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Amdon were fixing a bomb in a car.&lt;br /&gt;His uncle ask "What would you do if the bomb" explodes while fixing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amdon: Dont worry, I have one more.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3842640607814410041?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3842640607814410041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3842640607814410041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/amdon-fixing-bomb-amdon-joke.html' title='Amdon Fixing a Bomb (Amdon Joke)'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-199756474230895749</id><published>2009-10-16T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:11:12.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind of Affairs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;The 1st Affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A married man was having an affair with his secretary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhausted, they fell asleep and woke up at 8 PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He put on his shoes and drove home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Where have you been?' his wife demanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I can't lie to you,' he replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I'm having an affair with my secretary. We had sex all afternoon.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked down at his shoes and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;The 2nd Affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A middle-aged couple had two beautiful daughters but always talked about having a son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife got pregnant and delivered a healthy baby boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was horrified at the ugliest child he had ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told his wife: 'There's no way I can be the father of this baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered! Have you been fooling around behind my back?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife smiled sweetly and replied:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No, not this time!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;The 3rd Affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mortician was working late one night. He examined the body of Mr. Schwartz, about to be cremated, and made a startling discovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Schwartz had the largest private part he had ever seen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I have something to show you won't believe,' he said to his wife, opening his briefcase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My God!' the wife exclaimed,&lt;br /&gt;'Schwartz is dead!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;The 4th Affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Hurry,' she said, 'stand in the corner.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She rubbed baby oil all over him, then dusted him with talcum powder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Don't move until I tell you,' she said. 'Pretend you're a statue..'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What's this?' the husband inquired as he entered the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Oh it's a statue,' she replied. 'The Smiths bought one and I liked it so I got one for us, too.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;The 5th Affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man walked into a cafe, went to the bar and ordered a beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Certainly, Sir, that'll be one cent.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'One Cent?' the man exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He glanced at the menu and asked: 'How much for a nice juicy steak and a bottle of wine?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'A nickel,' the barman replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'A nickel?' exclaimed the man. 'Where's the guy who owns this place?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender replied: 'Upstairs, with my wife.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man asked: 'What's he doing upstairs with your wife?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender replied: 'The same thing I'm doing to his business down here.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;The 6th Affair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked up and said weakly:&lt;br /&gt;'I have something I must confess.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'There's no need to, 'his wife replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No,' he insisted,&lt;br /&gt;'I want to die in peace.&lt;br /&gt;I slept with your sister, your best friend,&lt;br /&gt;her best friend, and your mother!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I know,' she replied.&lt;br /&gt;'Now just rest and let the poison work.'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-199756474230895749?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/199756474230895749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/199756474230895749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/10/kind-of-affairs.html' title='Kind of Affairs'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-421378750946472492</id><published>2009-09-04T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:11:56.368-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intelligence'/><title type='text'>Party Crashers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; It was at a party and the host was getting worried because there were too many people and not enough refreshments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was sure that not all of these people had been invited but didn't know how to identify which ones were the crashers. Then her husband got an idea....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turned to the crowd of guests and said "Ok... those who are from the brides side of the family stand up please?" about twenty people stood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked " Will those who are from the groom side of the family stand up as well?" about twenty five people stood up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then He smiled and said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will all those who stood up please leave, This is a birthday party"...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-421378750946472492?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/421378750946472492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/421378750946472492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/09/party-crashers.html' title='Party Crashers'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-2158012595185559833</id><published>2009-08-15T05:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:12:39.118-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Q and A'/><title type='text'>Q &amp; A Jokes (Question and Answer Jokes)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: What is bright orange and sounds like a parrot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: A carrot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: How does a man show he's planning for the future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: He buys two cases of beer instead of one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;:What's the thinnest book in the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: What men know about woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: What tables don't you have to learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: Dinner tables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: What do you get if you cross an artist with a police officer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: A brush with the law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: What do you call a chicken that eats cement?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: A bricklayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: What is a pessimists blood type?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: B Negative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: Why can't a bicycle stand on its own?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: Because it's two - tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: How can you tell if there is an elephant in the refrigerator?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: The door won't shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: How do you make Mexican chilli?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: Take him to the North Pole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: What kind of music does a ghost like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: Haunting melodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;: Who never gets his hair wet in the shower?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;: A bald man.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-2158012595185559833?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2158012595185559833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2158012595185559833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/08/q-jokes-question-and-answer-jokes.html' title='Q &amp; A Jokes (Question and Answer Jokes)'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-4763254609829346785</id><published>2009-08-15T05:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:13:20.831-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Blondes Cross the River</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; There are two blondes standing on opposite sides of a river. One blond yells to the other "Hey how do you get to the other side!!!" the other blonde replies "Idiot!! you are on the other side!!!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-4763254609829346785?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4763254609829346785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4763254609829346785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/08/blondes-cross-river.html' title='Blondes Cross the River'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-2602534459314265491</id><published>2009-07-16T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:13:55.724-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Characters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Mobile bill (Sardar Joke)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Sardar: Excuse me... how much is my mobile bill?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call centre girl: Sir, just dial 123 to know current bill status&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sardar: Stupid, not CURRENT BILL [light bill :)]  my MOBILE BILL.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-2602534459314265491?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2602534459314265491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2602534459314265491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/07/mobile-bill-sardar-joke.html' title='Mobile bill (Sardar Joke)'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7723208478601009257</id><published>2009-07-16T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:14:26.599-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Characters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Udurawana's Son (Udurawana Joke)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Udurawana: I am a proud father, because my son is in Medical College.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend: Really, what is he studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Udurawana: No he is not studying, they are studying him.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7723208478601009257?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7723208478601009257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7723208478601009257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/07/udurawanas-son-udurawana-joke.html' title='Udurawana&apos;s Son (Udurawana Joke)'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1518977484723462029</id><published>2009-07-16T01:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:14:57.859-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Who said english is easy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Fill in the blank with YES or NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 .... I dont have brain&lt;br /&gt;2 .... I dont have sense&lt;br /&gt;3 .... I am stupid&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1518977484723462029?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1518977484723462029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1518977484723462029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/07/who-said-english-is-easy.html' title='Who said english is easy?'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-9110216616890515561</id><published>2009-07-16T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:15:38.426-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Characters'/><title type='text'>Amdon Joke "Amdon is a GOD"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Amdon    : People consider me as a "GOD"&lt;br /&gt;Father    : How do you know?&lt;br /&gt;Amdon    : When I went to the park today, everybody said, "Oh GOD you have come again"'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-9110216616890515561?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9110216616890515561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9110216616890515561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/07/amdon-joke-amdon-is-god.html' title='Amdon Joke &quot;Amdon is a GOD&quot;'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-4324872610794745129</id><published>2009-07-05T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T01:16:15.564-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Characters'/><title type='text'>Michael Jackson &amp; Farrah Fawcett Jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128);  font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Q: What is the difference between "Farrah Fawcett" and "Michael Jackson"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: "Farrah" did it with Majors, "Michael Jackson" did it with Minors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Farrah Fawcet died and went to heaven,&lt;br /&gt;She asked the God for one wish.&lt;br /&gt;God said OK.&lt;br /&gt;She asked for all the children to be safe in earth.&lt;br /&gt;So Michael Jackson died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIP MJ &amp;amp; FF&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-4324872610794745129?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4324872610794745129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4324872610794745129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/07/michael-jackson-farrah-fawcett-jokes.html' title='Michael Jackson &amp; Farrah Fawcett Jokes'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6553108068890006558</id><published>2009-07-05T03:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T02:09:22.988-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Characters'/><title type='text'>Joke about Michael Jackson</title><content type='html'>Q: What does "Michael Jackson" and a "Plastic bag" have in common?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Both are white, plastic and a danger to children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;RIP Michael Jackson...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6553108068890006558?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6553108068890006558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6553108068890006558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/07/joke-about-michael-jackson.html' title='Joke about Michael Jackson'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-2491771510137070951</id><published>2009-06-25T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T01:40:51.209-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>How to recruit the right person for the Job?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put about 100 bricks in some particular order in a closed Room with an open window.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then send 2 or 3 candidates in the room and close the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Leave them alone and come back after 6 hours and then analyze the situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;If they are counting the bricks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Put them in the Accounts department.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they are recounting them..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Auditing .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they have messed up the hole place with the bricks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Engineering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they are arranging the bricks in some strange order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Planning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they are throwing the bricks at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Operations ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they are sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Security.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they have broken the bricks into pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Information Technology.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they are sitting idle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Human Resources.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they say they have tried different combinations, yet not a brick has been moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Sales.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they have already left for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them in Marketing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they are staring out of the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Put them on strategic Planning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then last but not least.&lt;br /&gt;If they are talking to each Other and not a single brick has been moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Congratulate them and put them in TOP MANAGEMENT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-2491771510137070951?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2491771510137070951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/2491771510137070951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/06/how-to-recruit-right-person-for-job.html' title='How to recruit the right person for the Job?'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1409874165962688902</id><published>2009-05-13T01:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T01:53:13.808-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Bounced cheque (Rape Joke)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Judge to prostitute:&lt;/span&gt; "So... when did you realize that you were raped?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Prostitute:&lt;/span&gt; (Wiping away tears) "When the cheque bounced"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1409874165962688902?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1409874165962688902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1409874165962688902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/05/bounced-cheque-rape-joke.html' title='Bounced cheque (Rape Joke)'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-4722924665294050113</id><published>2009-05-13T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T01:25:49.130-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal'/><title type='text'>The Lion's Wedding</title><content type='html'>A lion was getting married. At his wedding a mouse was shouting away and congratulating the lion "All the best my brother!!! goodluck!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the mouse shouting away  claiming that the lion getting married is his brother, another Lion grabs the mouse in anger and asks&lt;br /&gt;"Who the hell do you think you are.... how can a  lion be your  brother.. you are only a mouse...."&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;The Mouse replies....  "I was also a Lion before I got married"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-4722924665294050113?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4722924665294050113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4722924665294050113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/05/lions-wedding.html' title='The Lion&apos;s Wedding'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8326957800808584443</id><published>2009-04-17T03:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T00:36:28.366-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Blonde's diary on a cruise ship.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All packed for the cruise ship journey - all my sexiest dresses and makeups. Really excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entire day at sea, beautiful and saw whales and dolphins.&lt;br /&gt;Met the Captain today - seems a very nice man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the pool today. Also some shuffle boarding and hit golf  balls off the deck. Captain invited me to join him at his table for dinner. Felt honored and had a wonderful time. He is very attractive and attentive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won $1000.00 in the ship's casino. Captain asked me to have dinner with him in his own cabin. Had a luxurious meal complete with caviar and champagne. He asked me to stay the night but I declined. Told him I could not be unfaithful to my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pool again today, got sun burnt, and went inside to drink at piano bar for rest of day. Captain saw me, bought me several large drinks. Really is charming. Again asked me to visit his cabin for the night. Again I declined. He told me if I did not let him have his way with me he would sink the ship. I was shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I saved 1,800 lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saved 1,800  lives once again.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8326957800808584443?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8326957800808584443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8326957800808584443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/04/blondes-diary-on-cruise-ship.html' title='Blonde&apos;s diary on a cruise ship.'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1127586147592800686</id><published>2009-03-13T03:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.179-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Suberb Bachelor Quotes (Jokes)</title><content type='html'>Every man should get married some time; after all,happiness is not the only thing in life !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bachelors should be heavily taxed. It is not fair that some men should be happier than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Oscar Wilde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't marry for money; you can borrow it cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Scottish Proverb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't worry about terrorism. I was married for two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Sam Kinison&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men have a better time than women; for one thing,&lt;br /&gt;They marry later; for another thing, they die earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--H. L. Mencken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a newly married couple smiles, everyone knows why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a ten-year married couple smiles, everyone wonders why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is blind but marriage is an eye-opener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a man opens the door of his car for his wife,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can be sure of one thing: either the car is new or the wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take my wife everywhere, but she keeps finding her way back to home always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always hold hands. If I let go, she shops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife was in beauty saloon for two hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was only for the estimate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got a mudpack and looked great for two days. Then the mud fell off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ran after the garbage truck, yelling, "Am I too late for the garbage?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following her down the street I yelled, "No, jump in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Badd Teddy recently explained to me why he refuses to get to married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says "the wedding rings look like miniature handcuffs... .."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife yelling at the frontdoor, who do you let in first?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dog of course... At least he'll shut up after u let him in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Anonymous&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1127586147592800686?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1127586147592800686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1127586147592800686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/03/suberb-bachelor-quotes-jokes.html' title='Suberb Bachelor Quotes (Jokes)'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-986902166467291018</id><published>2009-02-24T00:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T00:09:46.948-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religious'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Why facelift is danger</title><content type='html'>A 55 year old woman had a heart attack and was taken to&lt;br /&gt;the  hospital.  While on the operating table she had a near death  experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing God she asked 'Is my time up?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God  said, 'No, you have another 45 years, 4 months and&lt;br /&gt;7 days to live.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon recovery, the woman decided to stay in the hospital and&lt;br /&gt;have a face-lift, liposuction, breast implants and a tummy tuck.&lt;br /&gt;She even had someone come in and change her hair color and brighten her teeth!&lt;br /&gt;Since she had  so much more time to live, she figured she might as well make the most of  it.&lt;br /&gt;After her last operation, she was released from the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;While crossing the street on her way home, she was killed by an accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arriving  in front of God, she demanded, 'I thought you&lt;br /&gt;said I had another 45 years? Why  didn't you pull me from&lt;br /&gt;out of the path of that vehicle?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God replied: 'I didn't recognize you.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-986902166467291018?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/986902166467291018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/986902166467291018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/02/why-facelift-is-danger.html' title='Why facelift is danger'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1478123724140764219</id><published>2009-01-30T02:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.180-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Apologizing and Forgiving</title><content type='html'>A man bumps into a woman in a hotel lobby and as he does, his elbow goes into her brë~äst.&lt;br /&gt;They are both quite startled.&lt;br /&gt;The man turns to her and says, "Madam, if your heart is as soft as your brë~äst, I know you'll forgive me."&lt;br /&gt;She replies, "If your pen~is is as hard as your elbow, I'm in room 216."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1478123724140764219?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1478123724140764219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1478123724140764219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/01/apologizing-and-forgiving.html' title='Apologizing and Forgiving'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5874393564376515794</id><published>2009-01-23T00:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T00:10:01.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Letter from Management - Retire Aged People Early Scheme (RAPE)</title><content type='html'>Dear employees,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to the current financial situation caused by the slowdown&lt;br /&gt;of economy, Management has decided to implement a scheme to&lt;br /&gt;put workers of 40 years of age and above on early retirement.&lt;br /&gt;This scheme will be known as RAPE (Retire Aged People Early).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persons selected to be RAPED can apply to management to be&lt;br /&gt;eligible for the SHAFT scheme (Special Help After Forced&lt;br /&gt;Termination). Persons who have been RAPED and SHAFTED will be reviewed under the SCREW programme (Scheme Covering Retired&lt;br /&gt;Early Workers). A person may be RAPED once, SHAFTED twice and&lt;br /&gt;SCREWED as many times as Management deems appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persons who have been RAPED can only get AIDS (Additional&lt;br /&gt;Income for Dependants &amp;amp; Spouse) or HERPES (Half Earnings for&lt;br /&gt;Retired Personnel Early Severance). Obviously persons who&lt;br /&gt;have AIDS or HERPES will not be SHAFTED or SCREWED any further&lt;br /&gt;by Management.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;The Management&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5874393564376515794?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5874393564376515794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5874393564376515794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2009/01/letter-from-management-retire-aged.html' title='A Letter from Management - Retire Aged People Early Scheme (RAPE)'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7307279162900543567</id><published>2008-12-11T00:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:37:28.517-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Starting Salary</title><content type='html'>Boss : I am giving you a job as a driver. STARTING salary $100/-, is it o.k&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom : you are great sir! Starting salary is ok...but...???&lt;br /&gt;How much is DRIVING salary...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7307279162900543567?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7307279162900543567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7307279162900543567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/12/starting-salary.html' title='Starting Salary'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-4224333283002167721</id><published>2008-12-05T01:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T01:26:13.388-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Nothing to worry</title><content type='html'>A 70 years old man asks his wife "do u feel sad when u see me running behind young girls?"&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Wife replied "No not at all, even dogs chase cars but they can't drive it"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-4224333283002167721?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4224333283002167721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4224333283002167721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/12/nothing-to-worry.html' title='Nothing to worry'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-9133696950073759364</id><published>2008-12-05T01:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.180-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Little Tony</title><content type='html'>Teacher: why did u laugh?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I saw 1 strap of ur bra.&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: GET OUT of class for 1 week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd boy laughed.&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: why did u laugh?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I saw both straps.&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: GET OUT FOR 1 MONTH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She bent down to take chalk,&lt;br /&gt;Little Tony started walking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: Tony, why are you going out?&lt;br /&gt;Tony:  What I just saw, I think my school days are over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-9133696950073759364?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9133696950073759364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9133696950073759364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/12/little-tony.html' title='Little Tony'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3148551310943669264</id><published>2008-11-26T23:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.181-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><title type='text'>Federal Court Judges</title><content type='html'>On break down of his car on a country road one late night, a Federal court judge went up to a farm house looking for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little beautiful lady answered and heard his problem. She told him that she was alone and since it was late, he would have to wait till morning for the garrage to open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge:"In that case, I seek your permission to stay the night in your house".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady: "But, Sir, I am alone".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge : "No need to fear. After all, I am a federal court judge".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady: "But, Sir, here have only one bedroom".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge : "No need to fear. After all, I am a federal court judge".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went to the bedroom &amp;amp; the lady said; "But, Sir, we have only one bed",&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge: "No need to fear. After all, I am a federal court judge".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they shared the bed and went to sleep, he facing this side and she facing that side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning, as they were passing the poultry towards the gate, the judge sensed something and watched closely. He saw there were about 20 hens &amp;amp; about 60 cocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he asked the lady how so, she patiently explained, "Of these 60 cocks, only 10 are cocks. All others are Federal Court Judges".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3148551310943669264?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3148551310943669264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3148551310943669264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/11/federal-court-judges.html' title='Federal Court Judges'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7659371410480517208</id><published>2008-10-24T03:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T03:27:17.423-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Coffee Shop</title><content type='html'>Amdon and his wife went to a coffee shop&lt;br /&gt;Amdon said, 'Hurry Up Drink quickly.....!!!'.&lt;br /&gt;His wife asked, ' why...???'&lt;br /&gt;Amdon, 'Hot Coffee Rs.5 and Cold Coffee Rs. 10'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7659371410480517208?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7659371410480517208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7659371410480517208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/coffee-shop.html' title='Coffee Shop'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7664779893203656539</id><published>2008-10-24T03:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T03:20:19.695-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid'/><title type='text'>English Exam</title><content type='html'>John finished his English exam and came out.&lt;br /&gt;His friends asked him how he did his exam. He replied,&lt;br /&gt;'Exam was okay, but&lt;br /&gt;for the past tense of THINK, I thought, thought,&lt;br /&gt;and thought, at&lt;br /&gt;last I wrote THUNK!!!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7664779893203656539?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7664779893203656539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7664779893203656539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/english-exam.html' title='English Exam'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-4292593483885435622</id><published>2008-10-17T03:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T03:07:47.363-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Blonde Buy a TV</title><content type='html'>A blonde goes into a nearby store and asks a clerk if she can buy the TV in the corner. The clerk looks at her and says that he doesn't serve blondes, so she goes back home and dyes her hair black. The next day she returns to the store and asks the same thing, and again, the clerk said he doesn't serve blondes. Frustrated, the blonde goes home and dyes her hair yet again, to a shade of red. Sure that a clerk would sell her the TV this time, she returns and asks a different clerk this time. To her astonishment, this clerk also says that she doesn't serve blondes. The blonde asks the clerk, "How in the world do you know I am a blonde?" The clerk looks at her disgustedly and says,"That's not a TV it's a microwave!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;posted by: Colin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-4292593483885435622?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4292593483885435622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4292593483885435622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/blonde-buy-tv.html' title='Blonde Buy a TV'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3810460179725505475</id><published>2008-10-10T01:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T01:12:21.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Funny Answers</title><content type='html'>Q&lt;br /&gt;1. Name two days of the week that begin with 'T'.&lt;br /&gt;2. How many seconds are there in a year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;br /&gt;1. The two days of the week that begin with 'T' are Today and Tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;2. There are 12 seconds(January 2nd, February 2nd, March 2nd, etc...) in a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;posted by: richelle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3810460179725505475?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3810460179725505475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3810460179725505475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/funny-answers.html' title='Funny Answers'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5992297466601454776</id><published>2008-10-10T01:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T01:08:02.849-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Blonde Vs Lawer</title><content type='html'>A lawyer and a blond are sitting next to each other on a long flight. The lawyer leans over to her and asks if she would like to play a fun game. The blond just wants to take a nap, so she politely declines and rolls over to the window to catch a few winks. The lawyer persists and explains that the game is really easy and a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He explains,'I ask you a question, and if you don't know the answer, you pay me $5, and vice-versa.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, she politely declines and tries to get some sleep. The lawyer, now somewhat agitated, says,'OK, if you don't know the answer you pay me $5, and if I don't know the answer, I will pay you $500.'&lt;br /&gt;He reckons that since she is a blond that he will easily win the match. This offer catches the blond's attention and, realizing that there will probably be no end to this torment unless she plays, agrees to the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer asks the first question. 'What's the distance from the earth to the moon?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blond doesn't say a word, reaches in to her purse, pulls out a $5 note and hands it to the lawyer. Now, it's the blond's turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asks the lawyer,'What goes up a hill with three legs, and comes down with four?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer looks at her with a puzzled look. He takes out his laptop computer and searches the Net and the Library of Congress. Frustrated, he sends emails to all his co-workers and friends he knows. All to no avail. After over an hour, he wakes the blond and hands her $500. The blond politely takes the $500 and turns away to get back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer, who is more than a little miffed, wakes the blond and asks,'Well, so what is the answer?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a word, the blond reaches into her purse, hands the lawyer $5, and goes back to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;posted by: meronj&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5992297466601454776?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5992297466601454776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5992297466601454776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/blonde-vs-lawer.html' title='Blonde Vs Lawer'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5737222256424722289</id><published>2008-10-07T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T04:26:12.791-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Relaxing</title><content type='html'>Amdon was enjoying the sun at the beach in America .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lady came and asked him, 'Are you relaxing?'&lt;br /&gt;Amdon answered, 'No, I am Amdon'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another guy came and asked him the same question.&lt;br /&gt;Amdon answered, 'No! No! Me Amdon!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A third one came and asked him the same question again.&lt;br /&gt;Amdon was totally annoyed and decided to shift his&lt;br /&gt;place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While walking he saw another man soaking in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;He went up to him and asked, 'Are you Relaxing?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other man was a lot more educated and answered,&lt;br /&gt;'Yes, I am relaxing.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amdon slapped him on his face and said,'Stupid,&lt;br /&gt;idiot. Everyone is&lt;br /&gt;looking for you and you are sitting over here!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5737222256424722289?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5737222256424722289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5737222256424722289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/relaxing.html' title='Relaxing'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5230833177198327555</id><published>2008-10-07T04:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T04:20:12.886-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Forgot Her Name</title><content type='html'>An elderly gent was invited to an old friends' home for dinner one&lt;br /&gt;evening. He was impressed by the way his buddy preceded every request to&lt;br /&gt;his wife with endearing terms such as:&lt;br /&gt;Honey, My Love, Darling, Sweetheart, Pumpkin, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple had been married almost 70 years and, clearly, they were still&lt;br /&gt;very much in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the wife was in the kitchen, the man leaned over and said to his&lt;br /&gt;host, 'I think it's wonderful that, after all these years, you still&lt;br /&gt;call your wife those loving pet names'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man hung his head. 'I have to tell you the truth,' he said,&lt;br /&gt;'Her name slipped my mind about 10 years ago and I'm scared to death to&lt;br /&gt;ask her what it is!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;posted by: Manju&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5230833177198327555?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5230833177198327555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5230833177198327555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/forgot-her-name.html' title='Forgot Her Name'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1462316158280421175</id><published>2008-10-03T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T00:16:37.600-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal'/><title type='text'>Definition for Panda</title><content type='html'>A panda walks into a bar, sits down and orders a sandwich. He eats the sandwich, pulls out a gun and shoots the waiter dead. As the panda stands up to go, the bartender shouts,'Hey! Where are you going? You just shot my waiter and you didn't pay for your sandwich!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The panda yells back at the bartender,'Hey man, I'm a panda! Look it up!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender opens his dictionary and sees the following definition for panda:&lt;br /&gt;'A tree dwelling marsupial of Asian origin, characterised by distinct black and white colouring. Eats shoots and leaves.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;posted by: Leasa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1462316158280421175?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1462316158280421175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1462316158280421175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/definition-for-panda.html' title='Definition for Panda'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8606548860777285820</id><published>2008-10-02T04:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T04:11:02.884-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Blonde's Train Travel</title><content type='html'>A blonde came home by train and her husband noticed she was looking a little tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband: Honey, are you feeling all right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blonde : Not really, I’m nauseous from sitting backward on the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband: Poor dear, Why didn’t you ask the person sitting across from you to switch seats for a while?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blonde : I couldn’t, there was no one there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;posted by: Colin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8606548860777285820?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8606548860777285820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8606548860777285820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/blondes-train-travel.html' title='Blonde&apos;s Train Travel'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8762906702734752849</id><published>2008-10-02T03:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T04:10:18.824-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal'/><title type='text'>Judging Others</title><content type='html'>An elephant asked a camel,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are your breasts on your back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, says the camel,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that’s a strange question from somebody whose wiener is on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;(posted by: Colin)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8762906702734752849?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8762906702734752849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8762906702734752849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/judging-others.html' title='Judging Others'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7061730162466881286</id><published>2008-10-01T00:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T00:20:06.096-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Blonde's Detective Exam</title><content type='html'>So there are three blondes at the police station waiting to take the detective's exam.The examiner comes out of this little room and calls the first one in.&lt;br /&gt;"in order to be a detective, you need to be able to notice things about someone that a normal person cannot," he says. so he shows the first blonde a picture of a man. "what do you think about this man?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"he only has one eye," she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"of course he only has one eye, it is a profile view of his face." so she doesn't get the job. the next blonde then enters. the man gives her the same spiel and shows her the same picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"he only has one ear," she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"of course he only has one ear! its a profile view of his face!" so she doesn't get the job. then the third and last blonde comes in the room. he tells her the same thing he told the other two and showed her the exact same picture he showed the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the blonde looked at the picture and said, "he wears contacts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the man thought this was a false statement, so he pulled the file of the man in the picture. sure enough, he wore contacts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"how did you know that?" he asked her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well, if he only has one eye, and one ear, he can't possible wear glasses."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7061730162466881286?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7061730162466881286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7061730162466881286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/10/blondes-detective-exam.html' title='Blonde&apos;s Detective Exam'/><author><name>binduka</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-947300764619491211</id><published>2008-09-14T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.181-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Mother's Silence</title><content type='html'>A mother and son were doing dishes while the father and daughter were watching TV in the living room.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, there was a loud crash of breaking plates, then complete silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The daughter turned to look at her father.&lt;br /&gt;Daughter: It's mummy!&lt;br /&gt;Father: How do you know?&lt;br /&gt;Daughter: She didn't say anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-947300764619491211?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/947300764619491211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/947300764619491211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/09/mothers-silence.html' title='Mother&apos;s Silence'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5671244199923769159</id><published>2008-09-14T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.181-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Honey Moon</title><content type='html'>A Mother had 3 virgin daughters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were all getting married within a short time&lt;br /&gt;period. Because Mom was a bit worried about how&lt;br /&gt;their sex life would get started, she made them all&lt;br /&gt;promise to send a postcard from the honeymoon with a&lt;br /&gt;few words on how marital sex felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first girl sent a card from Hawaii two days&lt;br /&gt;after the wedding. The card said nothing but:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nescafe"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom was puzzled at first, but then went to her&lt;br /&gt;kitchen and got out the Nescafe jar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good till the last drop".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom blushed, but was pleased for her daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second girl sent the card from Vermont a week&lt;br /&gt;after the wedding, and the card read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Rothmans"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom now knew to go straight to her husband's&lt;br /&gt;cigarettes, and she read from the pack:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Extra Long. King Size"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was again slightly embarrassed but still happy&lt;br /&gt;for her daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third girl left for her honeymoon in Cape Town.&lt;br /&gt;Mom waited for a week, nothing. Another week went by&lt;br /&gt;and still nothing. Then after a whole month, a card&lt;br /&gt;finally arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written on it with shaky handwriting were the words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"South African Airways"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom took out her latest YOU magazine, flipped&lt;br /&gt;through the pages fearing the worst, and finally&lt;br /&gt;found the ad for SAA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ad said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ten times a day, seven days a week, both ways."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5671244199923769159?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5671244199923769159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5671244199923769159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/09/honey-moon.html' title='Honey Moon'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6563316855910237990</id><published>2008-09-14T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.181-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>DIVORCE VS. MURDER</title><content type='html'>A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, walked up to&lt;br /&gt;the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes,and said, 'I would like to&lt;br /&gt;buy some cyanide.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pharmacist asked, 'Why in the world do you need cyanide?'&lt;br /&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 exclaimed, 'Lord have mercy! I&lt;br /&gt;can't give you cyanide to kill your husband. That's against the law!&lt;br /&gt;I'll lose my license! They'll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad&lt;br /&gt;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&lt;br /&gt;in bed with the pharmacis t's wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, 'Well now, that's&lt;br /&gt;different. You didn't tell me you had a prescription.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6563316855910237990?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6563316855910237990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6563316855910237990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/09/divorce-vs-murder.html' title='DIVORCE VS. MURDER'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-6798210780137620088</id><published>2008-09-14T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.182-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Spaghetti</title><content type='html'>A man was having an affair with an Italian woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  One night, she confided in him that she was Pregnant. Not wanting to ruin  his reputation or his marriage, He paid her a large sum of money if she  would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she  stayed in Italy to  raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child  Turned 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She agreed, but asked how he would know when the baby was born. To keep it  discrete, he told her to  Simply mail him a post card, and write 'Spaghetti' on the back. He would  then arrange for the child support payments to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife.&lt;br /&gt;'Honey!,' she said, 'you received a very strange postcard today.'&lt;br /&gt;'Oh, just give it to me and I'll explain it later,' he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife obeyed and watched as her husband read the card, turned white, and fainted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the card was written:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Three with meatballs, two without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Send extra sauce.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-6798210780137620088?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6798210780137620088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/6798210780137620088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/09/spaghetti.html' title='Spaghetti'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1009761997116490697</id><published>2008-09-14T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.182-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Quality &amp; Warranty</title><content type='html'>A Quality Engineer married an average girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 2 years of tough life with her, finally the Engineer got angry and&lt;br /&gt;sent a note to father-in-law stating that&lt;br /&gt;"YOUR PRODUCT NOT MEETING MY REQUIRMENTS".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smart father-in-law replies,&lt;br /&gt;"WARRANTY EXPIRED. MANUFACTURER NOT RESPONSIBLE"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1009761997116490697?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1009761997116490697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1009761997116490697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/09/quality-warranty.html' title='Quality &amp; Warranty'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1746999883434848669</id><published>2008-08-29T03:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.182-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Cheeting Wife</title><content type='html'>A man was sitting reading his papers when his wife hit him round the&lt;br /&gt;Head with a frying pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What was that for?" the man asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife replied "That was for the piece of paper with the name Jenny&lt;br /&gt;on it that I found in your pants pocket".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man then said "When I was at the races last week Jenny was the&lt;br /&gt;name of the horse I bet on"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife apologized and went on with the housework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three days later the man is watching TV when his wife bashes him on&lt;br /&gt;the head with an even bigger frying pan, knocking him unconscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon re-gaining consciousness the man asked why she had hit again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife replied. "Your horse phoned"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1746999883434848669?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1746999883434848669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1746999883434848669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/08/cheeting-wife.html' title='Cheeting Wife'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-131763573618862998</id><published>2008-08-29T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.183-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Asking the RIGHT question</title><content type='html'>Jack and Max are walking from religious service. Jack wonders whether it would be all right to smoke while praying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max replies, "Why don't you ask the Priest?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Jack goes up to the Priest and asks, "Father, may I  smoke while I pray?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Priest replies, "No, my son, you  may not! That's utter disrespect to our religion."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack goes back to his friend and  tells him what the good Priest told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max says, "I'm not  surprised. You asked the wrong question. Let me try."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so Max  goes up to the Priest and asks, "Father, may I pray while I smoke?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which the Priest eagerly replies, "By all  means, my son. By all means. You can always pray whenever you want to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story is... The reply you get depends on the  question you ask.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-131763573618862998?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/131763573618862998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/131763573618862998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/08/asking-right-question.html' title='Asking the RIGHT question'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1943711705346354882</id><published>2008-05-22T00:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.183-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Definitions of 5ex :</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It is a science with the wife..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is an art with a girlfriend..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is commerce with a prostitute..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And It is just a social service with Auntie's..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1943711705346354882?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1943711705346354882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1943711705346354882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/05/definitions-of-5ex.html' title='Definitions of 5ex :'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5214066717232238277</id><published>2008-05-22T00:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.183-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>5exy Request</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A very 5exy and attractive female employer meets her boss and says: " Sir&lt;br /&gt;will you please remove something from my breast? "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Boss: " Vow!! what's that? "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;She : " your eyes sir "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5214066717232238277?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5214066717232238277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5214066717232238277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/05/5exy-request.html' title='5exy Request'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5499878603604073734</id><published>2008-05-22T00:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.184-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>What do you like in me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Girl : " What do you like in me? "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Boy : " those 2 big white balls having black dots in it.."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Girl : " what??? "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Boy : " yes, your eyes.." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5499878603604073734?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5499878603604073734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5499878603604073734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/05/what-do-you-like-in-me.html' title='What do you like in me'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-7926748478099935161</id><published>2008-05-21T23:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.184-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Difference between boy and a girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Teacher : What's the difference between boy and a girl?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tina : they are naughty, we are beauty..they have muscles, we have nipples&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;they have a pole and we have a hole..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-7926748478099935161?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7926748478099935161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/7926748478099935161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/05/difference-between-boy-and-girl.html' title='Difference between boy and a girl'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5512216923492484145</id><published>2008-05-21T23:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.184-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Computer Boys &amp; Gals</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Boy : Can I touch your software?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Girl : First show me your hardware..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Boy : Should I install it in your system?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Girl : Cover it with antivirus and then install.. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5512216923492484145?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5512216923492484145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5512216923492484145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/05/computer-boys-gals.html' title='Computer Boys &amp;amp; Gals'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1404616369897655457</id><published>2008-02-18T18:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.185-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Naughty mind....High expectations</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It was professor smith's first day at St. Johns medical college as a faculty. Known for his teaching excellence, he made his entry into a classroom of 1st year medical students, where he received a warm&amp;nbsp; welcome from the students, followed by their intro.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;To start with, he planned to put forth a question to the class. He said, "Well students, before we start off with today's lecture, let me ask you a simple question on human anatomy".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;He gazed across the classroom, spotted a female student Suzie, and said, "Tell me Suzie, which part of the human body grows 10 times its original size when excited?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;Hearing this question, Suzie's face grew pale in embarrassment, she replied:" you should be ashamed to ask such a question to a female. I am sorry, but I can't answer your, this question".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thwarted by the girl's reply, professor smith rolled on his sight around the classroom afresh, to find out if there was anyone else who could satisfy his query.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This time he located a male student Henry, who had already raised his hand in affirmation to answer the question, and allowed the lad to go ahead.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Henry answered: "pupil of a human eye".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The professor applauded for the boy's accurate answer; then turned back to Suzie and said: "look, Suzie, I am sorry but, I must tell you a couple of things:&lt;br /&gt;(1) You lack knowledge&lt;br /&gt;(2) you have a dirty mind and&lt;br /&gt;(3) Your Expectations are too high !!!!!!!(10 times....... ...huh... ...MY GOD!!)&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1404616369897655457?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1404616369897655457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1404616369897655457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/02/naughty-mindhigh-expectations.html' title='Naughty mind....High expectations'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3843157517301752556</id><published>2008-01-02T02:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T00:39:53.944-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Legal Misunderstandings...</title><content type='html'>One afternoon, a wealthy lawyer was riding in the back of his limousine when he saw two men eating grass by the road side. He ordered his driver to stop and he got out to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you eating grass?" he asked one man.&lt;br /&gt;"We don't have any money for food," the poor man replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, come along with me then."&lt;br /&gt;"But sir, I have a wife with two children!"&lt;br /&gt;"Bring them along! And you, come with us too!" he said to the other man.&lt;br /&gt;"But sir, I have a wife with six children!" the second man answered.&lt;br /&gt;"Bring them as well!"&lt;br /&gt;They all climbed into the car, which was no easy task, even for a car as large as the limo.&lt;br /&gt;Once underway, one of the poor fellows says, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer replied, "No problem, the grass at my home is about two feet tall."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3843157517301752556?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3843157517301752556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3843157517301752556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/01/legal-misunderstandings.html' title='Legal Misunderstandings...'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1862726143544575541</id><published>2008-01-02T02:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.185-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Who is the father?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A young man went to his father one day to tell him that he wanted to&lt;br /&gt;get married. His father was happy for him. He asked his son who the&lt;br /&gt;girl was, and he told him that it was Samantha a girl from the&lt;br /&gt;neighborhood.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;With a sad face the old man said to his son, "I'm sorry to say this&lt;br /&gt;son but I have to tell you that the girl you want to marry is your&lt;br /&gt;sister, but please don't tell your mother about this.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;The young man again brought 3 more names to his father but ended up&lt;br /&gt;frustrated causing the same response from the dad.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;So he decides to tell his mother. "Mama I want to get married but all&lt;br /&gt;the girls that I love, dad said they are my sisters and I mustn't tell&lt;br /&gt;you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;His mother smiling and said to him, "Don't worry my son, you can marry&lt;br /&gt;any of those girls. Because You're not his son!!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1862726143544575541?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1862726143544575541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1862726143544575541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2008/01/who-is-father.html' title='Who is the father?'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3116145504858854619</id><published>2007-12-05T19:07:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.185-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Sexy secretary.</title><content type='html'>A banker, confused with maths, asked his secretary:&lt;br /&gt;If I give you $3 million less 5%, how much would you take-off?&lt;br /&gt;Sec: Everything, sir !!!&amp;nbsp; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3116145504858854619?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3116145504858854619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3116145504858854619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/sexy-secretary.html' title='Sexy secretary.'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8692036004860273881</id><published>2007-12-05T19:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>I like your beard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A married man was visiting his "girlfriend"&lt;br /&gt;When she requested that he shave his beard. "Oh James, I like your beard, but I would really love to see your handsome face."&lt;br /&gt;James replied, "My wife loves this beard. I couldn't possibly do it. She would kill me!!"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh please?" the girlfriend asked again, in a sexy little voice...&lt;br /&gt;"Really, I can't," he replied. "My wife loves this beard!!"&lt;br /&gt;The girlfriend asked once more, he sighed and finally gave in.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;That night James crawled into bed next to his wife while she was sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;The wife was awakened, turned toward him, felt his face and said, "Oh Michael, you shouldn't be here. My husband will be home soon !"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8692036004860273881?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8692036004860273881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8692036004860273881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/i-like-your-beard.html' title='I like your beard'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-5885692645693714226</id><published>2007-12-05T19:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:24:16.303-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Wrong Number...</title><content type='html'>Mike went to office and called to his house over phone. Servant had taken the receiver.&lt;br /&gt;Mike: Who is speaking?&lt;br /&gt;Servant : Servant Sir.&lt;br /&gt;Mike: Where is the Madam?&lt;br /&gt;Mike: She is sleeping with her husband in bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;Mike: What? I am her husband came to office today.&lt;br /&gt;Servant: What can I do now sir?&lt;br /&gt;Mike: Open the cupboard, pick the Gun, shoot both of them, come back and tell me, till then I am waiting in the line. After some time ... there come 2 shooting sounds ... after that ...&lt;br /&gt;Servant: Yes, I did Sir. But what can I do next Sir?&lt;br /&gt;Mike: Open the back door, throw both of them into the swimming pool&lt;br /&gt;Servant: There is no swimming pool in our house Sir&lt;br /&gt;Mike: What...? No swimming pool?&lt;br /&gt;Servant: Yes Sir&lt;br /&gt;Mike: Sorry, wrong number !!!!!!!! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-5885692645693714226?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5885692645693714226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/5885692645693714226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/wrong-number.html' title='Wrong Number...'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-4805111900105474970</id><published>2007-12-05T19:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Put a rubber at the end of your stick</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Husband and wife are waiting at the bus stop with their nine children. A blind man joins them after a few minutes. When the bus arrives, they find it overloaded and only the wife and the nine kids are able to fit onto the bus.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So the husband and the blind man decide to walk. After a while, the husband gets irritated by the ticking of the stick of the blind man as he taps it on the sidewalk, and says to him, "Why don't you put a piece of rubber at the end of your stick? That ticking sound is driving me crazy."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The blind man replies, "If you would've put a rubber at the end of YOUR stick, we'd be riding the bus so shut up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-4805111900105474970?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4805111900105474970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/4805111900105474970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/put-rubber-at-end-of-your-stick.html' title='Put a rubber at the end of your stick'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8455072354310181799</id><published>2007-12-05T19:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Student Vs Professor</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;After having failed his exam in "Logistics and Organization", a student goes and confronts his lecturer about it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Student: "Sir, do you really understand anything about the subject?"&lt;br /&gt;Professor: "Surely I must. Otherwise I would not be a professor!"&lt;br /&gt;Student: "Great, well then I would like to ask you a question. If you can give me the correct answer, I will accept my mark as is and go. If you however do not know the answer, I want you give me an "A" for the exam. "&lt;br /&gt;Professor: "Okay, it's a deal. So what is the question?"&lt;br /&gt;Student: "What is legal, but not logical, logical, but not legal, and neither logical, nor legal?"&lt;br /&gt;Even after some long and hard consideration, the professor cannot give the student an answer, and therefore changes his exam mark into an "A", as agreed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Afterwards, the professor calls on his best student and asks him the same question.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;He immediately answers: "Sir, you are 63 years old and married to a 35 year old woman, which is legal, but not logical. Your wife has a 25 year old lover, which is logical, but not legal. The fact that you have given your wife's lover an "A", although he really should have failed, is neither legal, nor logical." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8455072354310181799?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8455072354310181799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8455072354310181799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/student-vs-professor.html' title='Student Vs Professor'/><author><name>Varuna</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-9136916927195923445</id><published>2007-12-03T19:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:27:59.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Sex in old ages</title><content type='html'>Johnny asks grandpa: "Do you still have sex with grandma?"&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa says: "Yes, but only oral."&lt;br /&gt;Johnny: "What's oral?"&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa: "I say f*** you, she says f*** you too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-9136916927195923445?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9136916927195923445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/9136916927195923445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/sex-in-old-ages.html' title='Sex in old ages'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-1786163376433813560</id><published>2007-12-03T18:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:28:42.648-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religious'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Father's Pasttime</title><content type='html'>A kid asked the priest:&lt;br /&gt;"Father, what is your pastime?"&lt;br /&gt;The priest tapped the kid's shoulder and replied:&lt;br /&gt;"Nun, my child, nun."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-1786163376433813560?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1786163376433813560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/1786163376433813560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/father-pasttime.html' title='Father&amp;#39;s Pasttime'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-3541636223961619009</id><published>2007-12-03T18:58:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:26:32.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><title type='text'>Wife Vs Chewing Gum</title><content type='html'>What is the similarity between a wife and a chewing gum?&lt;br /&gt;Both, are sweet and tight in the beginning, but become tasteless and shapeless later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-3541636223961619009?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3541636223961619009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/3541636223961619009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/wife-vs-chewing-gum.html' title='Wife Vs Chewing Gum'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7656588643519615741.post-8463669375577224015</id><published>2007-12-03T18:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:29:19.094-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstanding'/><title type='text'>Naughty son</title><content type='html'>Patient:My 5 year old son is very naughty. He has made my maid pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;Doctor:How the hell is that possible?&lt;br /&gt;Patient:He took a pin and punched holes in all my condoms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7656588643519615741-8463669375577224015?l=www.jokeslog.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8463669375577224015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7656588643519615741/posts/default/8463669375577224015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokeslog.com/2007/12/naughty-son.html' title='Naughty son'/><author><name>Colin</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></entry></feed>
