<?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-3771980</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:25:23.869-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokes I've heard</title><subtitle type='html'>These are jokes that I have heard various places that I thought were just too good to forget and decided that with my failing memory that it would be best if I put them in text to help perserve them.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>80</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3771980.post-113759488566544673</id><published>2006-01-18T08:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T08:34:45.666-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Little Johnny &amp; AprilLittle April was not the best student in Sunday school. Usually she slept through the class.One day the teacher called on her while she was napping, "Tell me, April, who created the universe?"When April didn't stir, little Johnny, a boy seated in the chair behind her, took a pin and jabbed her in the rear. "GOD ALMIGHTY!" shouted April and the teacher said, "Very good" and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113759488566544673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113759488566544673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_15_archive.html#113759488566544673' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113759475170690473</id><published>2006-01-18T08:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T08:32:31.706-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Only a West Virginian could think of this ... from the county where drunk driving is considered a sport, comes this true story. Recently a routine police patrol parked outside a bar in Ripley, West Virginia. After last call the officer noticed a man leaving the bar so intoxicated that he could barely walk. The man stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes, with the officer quietly </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113759475170690473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113759475170690473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_15_archive.html#113759475170690473' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113759458885502035</id><published>2006-01-18T08:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T08:29:48.866-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A lesson to be learned from typing the wrong e-mail address!!!A couple from Minneapolis decided to go to Florida to thaw out during one particularly icy winter. They planned to stay at the very same hotel where they spent their honeymoon 20 years earlier. Because of hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel schedules. So,the husband left Minnesota and flew to Florida on </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113759458885502035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113759458885502035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_15_archive.html#113759458885502035' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113709329991056700</id><published>2006-01-12T13:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T13:14:59.910-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Letter from a farm kid now at the San Diego Marine Corps Recruit TrainingDear Ma and Pa,I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled. I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m. but I am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113709329991056700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113709329991056700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_08_archive.html#113709329991056700' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113709196305128486</id><published>2006-01-12T12:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T12:52:43.060-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>10 Things I Hate About Everyone 1. People who point at their wrist while asking for the time.... I know where my watch is pal, where the hell is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the toilet is? 2. People who are willing to get off their ass to search the entire room for the T.V. remote because they refuse to walk to the T.V. and change the channel manually. 3. When people say "Oh </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113709196305128486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113709196305128486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_08_archive.html#113709196305128486' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113701607575781760</id><published>2006-01-11T15:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T15:47:55.766-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Blonde's Year In Review: JANUARY -- Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight. FEBRUARY -- Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels . . . . "duh" . . . . bottles won't fit in typewriter. MARCH -- Got excited . . . . finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months . . . . the box said "2-4 years". APRIL -- Trapped on escalator for hours . . . . power went out. MAY -- Tried to make </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113701607575781760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113701607575781760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_08_archive.html#113701607575781760' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113699086976149787</id><published>2006-01-11T08:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T08:47:49.760-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>World's Shortest FairytaleOnce upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?" The girlsaid,"NO!" And the guy lived happily ever after and went fishing and hunting and played golf a lot and drank beer and left the toilet seat up and farted whenever he wanted.THE END</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113699086976149787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113699086976149787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_08_archive.html#113699086976149787' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113699079054819361</id><published>2006-01-11T08:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T08:47:11.886-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One night a man walked into the bedroom where his wife was sleeping while holding a sheep under his arm.  While standing at the foot of the bed the man said, "See Honey, this is the pig I have sex with when I'm not having sex with you."His wife rolled over, looked at him and commented, "That's great Dear, but I think you will find that is a sheep and not a pig."The husband promptly replied, "</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113699079054819361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113699079054819361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_08_archive.html#113699079054819361' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-113699043112130843</id><published>2006-01-11T08:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T08:40:31.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A guy was in the military training to be a paratrooper and was telling his buddy about his first jump."The jump master was this big black guy.  I mean he was probably 6' 8" and stocky, not someone you wanted to mess with.  Well, as we started taking off I was a little nervous but the higher we went the more nervous I got.  After we reached the target jump point everybody started bailing out but I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113699043112130843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/113699043112130843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2006_01_08_archive.html#113699043112130843' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-112105378936579378</id><published>2005-07-10T22:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T12:57:52.790-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>1. You have two choices in life: You can stay single and be miserable, or get married and wish you were dead. 2. At a cocktail party, one woman said to another, "Aren't you wearing your wedding ring on the wrong finger?" "Yes, I am. I married the wrong man."  3. A lady inserted an ad in the classifieds: "Husband Wanted" Next day she received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: "You </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/112105378936579378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/112105378936579378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2005_07_10_archive.html#112105378936579378' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110066876919163226</id><published>2004-11-16T23:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T23:19:29.190-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Two blondes living in Indiana were sitting on a bench one evening,looking at the moon and talking. One blonde says to the other, "What do you think is farther away........Florida or the moon?The other blonde turns and says, "Helloooooooooooooooooooo, can you see Florida from here?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110066876919163226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110066876919163226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110066876919163226' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110066868255130544</id><published>2004-11-16T23:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T12:59:59.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Instructions on how to clean your toilet                                                                                                                                                                                       1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110066868255130544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110066868255130544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110066868255130544' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110054259607281616</id><published>2004-11-15T13:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:16:36.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Baby Bear goes downstairs and sits in his small chair at the table andlooks into his small bowl which is empty."Who's been eating my porridge?", he squeaks.Father Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair. He looks into his big bowl and it is also empty."Who's been eating my Porridge?!!," he roars.Mother Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and yells</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054259607281616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054259607281616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110054259607281616' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110054252567715290</id><published>2004-11-15T13:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:15:25.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A lady walked into a drug store and told the pharmacist she needed some cyanide. The pharmacist said: "Why in the world do you need cyanide?" The lady then explained she needed it to poison her husband. Thepharmacist's eyes got big and he said: "Lord have mercy, I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! "That's against the law! They'll throw both of us in jail and I'll lose my license."Then</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054252567715290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054252567715290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110054252567715290' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110054248218167967</id><published>2004-11-15T13:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:14:42.183-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Three old Ladies named Gertrude, Maude, and Tilly were sitting on a park bench having a quiet conversation when a flasher approached from across the park.The man came up to the ladies, stood right in front of them, opened his trench coat and exposed himself.Gertrude immediately had a stroke.And then Maude also had a stroke.But Tilly, being older and feebler, bless her heart, couldn't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054248218167967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054248218167967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110054248218167967' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110054236602589001</id><published>2004-11-15T13:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:14:13.403-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>DID you hear about the dyslexic pimp?He bought a warehouse.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054236602589001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054236602589001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110054236602589001' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110054234205833228</id><published>2004-11-15T13:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:13:51.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I saw six men kicking and punching the mother-in-law.My neighbour said: "Are you going to help?""No" I said, "six should be enough."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054234205833228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054234205833228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110054234205833228' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-110054230215118961</id><published>2004-11-15T13:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:13:14.036-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A guy and his girlfriend were making love in the back of his van when all of a sudden she shouted at him to whip her."Find something to whip me with now! If you do it will be the best sex you have ever had" she screamed.So he opened the window, snapped off the aerial and started whipping her with it.Three weeks later she went to the doctor and asked him to take a look at some infected cuts </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054230215118961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/110054230215118961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_11_14_archive.html#110054230215118961' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109725977507270816</id><published>2004-10-08T13:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T13:22:55.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>An elephant asks a camel, "Why are your breasts on your back?""Well," says the camel, "I think it is a strange question coming from somebody whose dick is on his face."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109725977507270816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109725977507270816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109725977507270816' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109718173086047981</id><published>2004-10-07T15:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T15:42:10.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A man staggered home late after another evening with his drinking buddies.  Shoes in left hand to avoid waking his wife, he tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step in the darkened entryway.  As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109718173086047981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109718173086047981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109718173086047981' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109691359891468857</id><published>2004-10-04T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T13:14:21.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>THE # 1 THOUGHT FOR 2004:Many terrorists come to America legally and hang around on expired visas (some for as long as 10-15 years) . Now take Blockbuster, for example. You're two days late with a video rental and those people are all over you. I think we should put Blockbuster in charge of US immigration.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109691359891468857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109691359891468857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109691359891468857' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109691351321741748</id><published>2004-10-04T13:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T13:11:53.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person which almost went unnoticed last week.  Larry La Prise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Pokey", died peacefully at age 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin.  They put his left leg in .... And then the trouble started.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109691351321741748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109691351321741748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109691351321741748' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109691344124775377</id><published>2004-10-04T13:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T13:10:41.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WIFE: "What would you do if I died? Would you get married again?"HUSBAND: "Definitely not!"WIFE: "Why not - don't you like being  married?"HUSBAND: "Of course I do."WIFE: "Then why wouldn't you remarry?"HUSBAND: "Okay, I'd get married again."WIFE: "You would? (With a hurtful look on her face)."HUSBAND: (makes audible groan).WIFE: "Would you sleep with her in our bed?"HUSBAND: "Where else</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109691344124775377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109691344124775377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_10_03_archive.html#109691344124775377' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109649005728238447</id><published>2004-09-29T15:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T15:34:17.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>An old cowboy went to a bar and ordered a drink. As he sat sipping his whiskey, a young lady sat down next to him. She turned to the cowboy and asked, "Are you a real cowboy?"  He replied, "Well, I've spent my whole life on the ranch, herding horses, mending fences, and branding cattle, so I guess I am."She said, "I'm a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I get up in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109649005728238447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109649005728238447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_09_26_archive.html#109649005728238447' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109586471948391862</id><published>2004-09-22T09:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:51:59.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Things You'd Love to Say at Work, but Can't1. I can see your point, but I still think you're full of shit.2. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce.3. How about never? Is never good for you?4. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.5. I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to see it my way.6. I'll try being nicer </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109586471948391862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109586471948391862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_09_19_archive.html#109586471948391862' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109586296996489473</id><published>2004-09-22T09:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T09:22:49.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A blonde walks into a pharmacy and asks the assistant for some rectumdeodorant. The pharmacist, a little bemused, explains to the woman theydon't sell rectum deodorant, and never have.Unfazed, the blonde assures the pharmacist that she has been buying thestuff from this store on a regular basis and would like some more."I'm sorry", says the pharmacist,  "we don't have any" 'But I always buyit</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109586296996489473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109586296996489473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_09_19_archive.html#109586296996489473' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109456615326467652</id><published>2004-09-07T09:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-07T09:09:13.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Q -- What is the best thing about dating a homeless woman?A -- You can drop her off anywhere.---------------------------Q -- What is the difference between in-laws and outlaws?A -- Outlaws are wanted.---------------------------Q -- What should a woman say to a man she's just had sex with?A -- Whatever she wants. He's sleeping.---------------------------Q -- Where does virgin wool come </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109456615326467652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109456615326467652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_09_05_archive.html#109456615326467652' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109415386111733616</id><published>2004-09-02T14:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T14:37:41.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Stupid Sport Quotes:"We actually got the winner three minutes from the end but then they equalised."(Ian McNail — Football)"This is really a lovely horse; I once rode her mother."(Ted Walsh — Horse Racing Commentator)"We now have exactly the same situation as we had at the start of the race, only exactly the opposite."(Murray Walker — F1 Motor racing Commentator)On the difficulties of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109415386111733616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109415386111733616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109415386111733616' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413513654233277</id><published>2004-09-02T09:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:25:36.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>T. Bubba Bechtol, part time City Councilman from Pensacola, Florida, was asked on a local live radio talk show the other day just what he thought of the allegations of torture of the Iraqi prisoners. His reply prompted his ejection from the studio, but to thunderous applause from the audience. "If hooking up an Iraqi prisoner's scrotum to a car's battery cables will save one American GI's life, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413513654233277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413513654233277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413513654233277' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413510381214289</id><published>2004-09-02T09:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:25:03.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A flight attendant was stationed at the departure gate to check tickets.  As a man approached, she extended her hand for the ticket, and he opened his trench coat and flashed her. Without missing a beat She said, "Sir, I need to see your ticket, not your stub."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413510381214289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413510381214289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413510381214289' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413506818247199</id><published>2004-09-02T09:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:24:28.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A lady was picking through the frozen turkeys at the grocery store, but couldn't find one big enough for her family. She asked a stock boy, Do these turkeys get any bigger?"The stock boy replied, "No ma'am, they're dead."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413506818247199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413506818247199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413506818247199' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413503816104056</id><published>2004-09-02T09:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:23:58.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The cop got out of his car and the kid who was stopped for speeding rolled down his window."I've been waiting for you all day", the cop said.The kid replied, "Yeah, well I got here as fast as I could."When the cop finally stopped laughing, he sent the kid on his way without a ticket.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413503816104056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413503816104056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413503816104056' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413499661564267</id><published>2004-09-02T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:23:16.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A truck driver was driving along on the freeway. A sign comes up that reads low bridge ahead." Before he knows it the bridge is right ahead of him and he gets stuck under the bridge. Cars are backed up for miles. Finally, a police car comes up. The cop gets out of his car and walks around to the truck driver, puts his hands on his hips and says, "Got stuck, huh?"The truck driver says, "No, I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413499661564267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413499661564267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413499661564267' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413495541213961</id><published>2004-09-02T09:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:22:35.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A college teacher reminds her class of tomorrow's final exam."Now class, I won't tolerate any excuses for you not being here tomorrow. I might consider a nuclear attack or a serious personal injury or illness, or a death in your immediate family but that's it, no other excuses whatsoever!"A smart-ass guy in the back of the room raised his hand and asks, "What would you say if tomorrow I said </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413495541213961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413495541213961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413495541213961' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413489299625518</id><published>2004-09-02T09:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:21:32.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A girl was visiting her blonde friend who had acquired two new dogs, and asked her what their names were. The blonde responded by saying that one was named Rolex and one was named Timex.Her friend said, "Whoever heard of someone naming dogs like that?""Hellooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" answered the blonde.  "They're watch dogs!"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413489299625518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413489299625518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413489299625518' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109413483372996569</id><published>2004-09-02T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:20:33.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A pompous minister was seated next to a TEXAN on a flight to Dallas.  After the plane was airborne, drink orders were taken. The TEXAN asked for a whiskey and soda, which was brought and placed before him. The flight attendant then asked the minister if he would like a drink.He replied in disgust, "I'd rather be savagely raped by ten whores than let liquor touch my lips."The TEXAN looked at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413483372996569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109413483372996569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_29_archive.html#109413483372996569' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109357517994002420</id><published>2004-08-26T21:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-26T21:52:59.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Two guys are driving around in a car. They see two dogs humping on the side of the road. One guy says "That really is the best way to have sex". The other guys doubts his wife will go for it. The first guy says "give her a couple of martinis to loosen her up".The next day they run into each other. "How did it go?" the first guy asks. "Not bad, but it took 8 martinis". "EIGHT MARTINIS! What </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109357517994002420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109357517994002420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_22_archive.html#109357517994002420' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109344759944979934</id><published>2004-08-25T10:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T10:26:39.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A little girl asked her Mom, "Mom, may I take the dog for a walk around the block?"Mom replies, "No, because she is in heat.""What's that mean?" asked the child."Go ask your father. I think he's in the garage."The little girl goes to the garage and says, "Dad, may I take Belle for a walk around the block? I asked Mom, but she said the dog was in heat, and tocome to you."Dad said, "Bring</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344759944979934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344759944979934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_22_archive.html#109344759944979934' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109344744053848709</id><published>2004-08-25T10:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T10:24:00.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There was a man who had worked all of his life, had saved all of his money, and was a real miser when it came to his money.  Just before he died, he said to his wife, "When I die, I want you to take all my money and put it in the casket with me. I want to take my money to the afterlife with me."And so he got his wife to promise him with all of her heart that when he died, she would put all of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344744053848709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344744053848709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_22_archive.html#109344744053848709' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109344723380236134</id><published>2004-08-25T10:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T10:20:33.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Harold was an old man. He was sick and in the hospital. There was one young nurse that just drove him crazy. Every time she came in, she would talk to him like he was a little child. She would say in a patronizing tone of voice, "And how are we doing this morning, or are we ready for a bath, or are we hungry?"Old Harold had had enough of this particular nurse. One day, Old Harold had breakfast,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344723380236134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344723380236134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_22_archive.html#109344723380236134' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109344701925283709</id><published>2004-08-25T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T10:16:59.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> A guy is on vacation in the Holy Land with his wife and mother-in-law. The mother-in-law dies. So the couple goes to an undertaker who explains that they can ship the body home, but it will cost over $5,000, whereas burying her in the Holy Land would cost only $150."We'll ship her home," says the guy.The undertaker asks, "Are you sure? That's an awfully big expense and we can do a very nice </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344701925283709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109344701925283709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_22_archive.html#109344701925283709' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109276097132229044</id><published>2004-08-17T11:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T11:42:51.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Several weeks ago, we hired a new blonde secretary who wasn't the brightest crayon in the box.One day when she was typing, she turnedto another secretary and said, "I'm almost out of typing paper. What do I do?""Just use the copier machine paper," the other responded.With that,the blonde took her last remaining blank piece of paper, put it on thephotocopier, and proceeded to make five blank</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109276097132229044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109276097132229044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_15_archive.html#109276097132229044' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109275524341637669</id><published>2004-08-17T09:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T10:07:23.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A blind man walks into a bar, taps the man next him, and says, "Hey, wanna hear a blond joke?" The man says back to the blind man, "Look buddy, I'm blond. The man behind me is a 400-pound professional wrestler and he is blond. The bouncer is blond. The man sitting over to your left is also blond. Still wanna tell that blond joke?" The blind man is silent for a moment and then says, "Nah, I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109275524341637669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109275524341637669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_15_archive.html#109275524341637669' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-109208066415171137</id><published>2004-08-09T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T14:44:47.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Two Old LadiesTwo old ladies were outside their nursing home, having a smoke, when it started to rain. One of the ladies pulled out a condom, cut off the end, put it over her cigarette, and continued smoking.Lady 1: What's that?Lady 2: A condom. This way my cigarette doesn't get wet.Lady 1: Where did you get it?Lady 2: You can get them at any drugstore.The next day, Lady 1 hobbles </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109208066415171137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/109208066415171137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2004_08_08_archive.html#109208066415171137' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-106969550829476757</id><published>2003-11-24T11:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:27:41.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A woman was having a passionate affair with an inspector from a pest-control company. One afternoon they were carrying on in the bedroom together when her husband arrived home unexpectedly. "Quick," said the woman to her lover, "into the closet!" and she pushed him in the closet, stark naked.The husband, however, became suspicious and after a search of the bedroom discovered the man in the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/106969550829476757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/106969550829476757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_11_23_archive.html#106969550829476757' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88668368</id><published>2003-02-06T15:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:28:08.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A husband and wife are waiting at the bus stop, with them are their 8 children. A blind man joins them after a few minutes. When the bus arrives, they find it overloaded and only the wife and her eight children are able to fit in the bus. So the husband and the blind man decide to walk.After a while the husband gets irritated by the ticking of the stick, the blind man and says to him: "Why don't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88668368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88668368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88668368' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88542619</id><published>2003-02-04T12:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:28:44.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Haircut MysteryA guy sticks his head into a barber shop and asks, "How long before I can get a haircut?"The barber looks around the shop and says, "About 2 hours." The guy leaves.A few days later the same guy sticks his head in the door and asks, "How long before I can get a haircut?"The barber looks around at the shop full of customers and says, "About 3 hours." The guy leaves.A week </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88542619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88542619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88542619' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88485660</id><published>2003-02-03T13:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:29:20.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One day a teacher had a taste test with her students. She picked a little boy to do the first test. She blindfolded him, put a Hershey kiss in his mouth and asked, Do you know what it is?""No, I don't," said the little boy."Okay, I'll give you a clue. It's the thing your daddy wants from your Mom before he goes to work."Suddenly, a little girl at the back of the room yelled, Spit it out! </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88485660' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88485490</id><published>2003-02-03T13:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:30:55.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Federal Aviation Agency800 Independence Avenue S.W.Washington D.C. 20591Dear Sirs;I have the solution for the prevention of hijackings, and at the same time getting our airline industry back on its feet.Since men of the Muslim religion are not allowed to look at naked women we should replace all of our female flight attendants with strippers.Muslims would be afraid to get on the planes</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88485490' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88485222</id><published>2003-02-03T13:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:31:37.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Austin Powers" Pickup LinesThe best 25 Austin Powers Pickup Lines1. I wish you were a door so I could slam you all day.2. Nice legs...what time do they open?3. Do you work for UPS? I thought I saw you checking out my package.4. You've got 206 bones in your body, want one more?5. Can I buy you a drink or do you just want the money?6. I'm a bird watcher and I'm looking for a Big </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88485222' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88485179</id><published>2003-02-03T13:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:32:22.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Once upon a time there was a shepherd looking after his sheep on the side of a deserted road. Suddenly, a brand-new Porsche screeches to a halt. The driver, a young man dressed in an Armani suit, Ray-Bans, Tag Heuer watch, Cerutti shoes, tailor-made shirt and a Boss tie gets out and asks the shepherd, "If I can tell you how many sheep you have, will you give one to me?"The shepherd looks at the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88485179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88485179' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88484965</id><published>2003-02-03T13:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:35:56.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It is almost that time of year again....College Football. There's something here that will offend almost every college football fan.  None of it is "Politically Correct" by any means, so if you are in a "Politically Correct Mood", delete this message now.(1) What does the average Texas A&amp;M player get on his SATs? ..........Drool.(2) What do you get when you put 8 Arkansas cheerleaders in one </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88484965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88484965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88484965' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88484446</id><published>2003-02-03T12:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:38:00.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>THE COLLEGE THEME PAPER: HE VS. SHERemember the book "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"? Well, here's a prime example offered by an English professor at an American University."Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88484446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88484446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88484446' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481944</id><published>2003-02-03T11:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:38:37.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This was on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno on September 7, 1999.Jay went into the audience to find the most embarrassing first date that a woman ever had.When the winner described her worst first date experience, there was absolutely no question as to why her tale took the prize.Marilyn said it was midwinter...snowing and quite cold. The guy had taken her skiing to Lake Arrowhead. It was a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481944' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481720</id><published>2003-02-03T11:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:39:00.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>All drugs have a generic name:Tylenol is acetaminophen, Aleve is naproxen, Amoxil is amoxicillin, Advil is ibuprofen, and so on.The FDA has been looking for a generic name for Viagra, and announced that it has settled on mycoxafloppin. Also considered were mycoxafailin, mydixadrupin, mydixarizin, mydixadud, dixafix, and of course, ibepoken.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481720' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481593</id><published>2003-02-03T11:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:39:35.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A mild-mannered man was tired of being bossed around by his wife; so he went to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist said he needed to build his self-esteem, and so gave him a book on assertiveness, which he read on the way home. He had finished the book by the time he reached his house.The man stormed into the house and walked up to his wife. Pointing a finger in her face, he said, "From now on, I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481593' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481302</id><published>2003-02-03T11:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:41:30.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A TRUE SOUTHERNER.......Only a true Southerner knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption and that you don't "have" them, but "pitch" them.Nobody but a true Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas, beans, etc. make up a mess.A true Southerner can show or point out to you the general direction of "yonder."A true Southerner knows exactly how long </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481302' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481327</id><published>2003-02-03T11:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:40:16.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>When I was a kid adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were when they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning uphill both ways through year 'round blizzards carrying their younger siblings on their backs to their one-room schoolhouse where they maintained a straight-A average despite their full-time after-school job</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481327' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481274</id><published>2003-02-03T11:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:42:02.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Arkansas Love PoemSusie Lee done fell in love,She planned to marry Joe.She was so happy 'bout it all,She told her Pappy so.Pappy told her, "Susie Gal,You'll have to find another.I'd just as soon yo' maw don't know,But Joe is yo' half-brother."So Susie put aside her Joe,And planned to marry Will.But, after telling Pappy this,He said, "There's trouble still.You cain't marry Will, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481274' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481154</id><published>2003-02-03T11:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:43:20.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Three men, one German, one Japanese and a Texan were sitting naked in a sauna.Suddenly there was a beeping sound. The German pressed his forearm and the beep stopped. The others looked at him questioningly. "That was my pager, " he said, "I have a microchip under the skin of my arm."A few minutes later a phone rang. The Japanese fellow lifted his palm to his ear. When he finished he explained</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481154' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481177</id><published>2003-02-03T11:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:42:35.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A man walking along a California beach was deep in prayer. All of a sudden he said out loud, "Lord, grant me one wish." Suddenly the sky clouded above his head and in a booming voice the Lord said, "Because you have had the faith to ask, I will grant you one wish." The man said, "Build a bridge to Hawaii, so I can drive over anytime I want to."The Lord said, "Your request is very materialistic.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481177' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481102</id><published>2003-02-03T11:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:45:58.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A philosophy professor stood before his class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, rocks about 2" in diameter.He then asked the students if the jar was full? They agreed that it was.So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481102' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481132</id><published>2003-02-03T11:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:44:27.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Directions for ATM Use------------------------------------Please note that your Bank is installing new "Drive-through" teller machines. Customers will be able to withdraw cash without leaving their vehicles. To enable customers to use this new facility the following procedures have been drawn up. Please read the procedure that applies your own gender and remember them when you use the machine </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481132' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481080</id><published>2003-02-03T11:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:46:57.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>1. A friend calls and says, "How are you? Your phones have been busy for a year!"2. You forgot how to work the TV remote control.3. You see something funny and scream, "LOL, LOL."4. You meet the mailman at the curb and swear he said YOU'VE GOT MAIL.5. You sign off and your screen says you were on for 3 days and 45 minutes.6. You fall asleep, but instead of dreams you get IMs.7. You </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481080' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-88481004</id><published>2003-02-03T11:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:48:08.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A magician worked on a cruise ship. The audience was different each week, so the magician did the same tricks over and over again. One problem: The captain's parrot saw the shows each week and began to understand how the magician did every trick. Once he understood, he started shouting in the middle of the show: "Look, it's not the same hat!" "Look, he's hiding the flowers under the table." "Hey,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/88481004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88481004' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82791136</id><published>2002-10-10T09:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:48:54.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A traveling salesman comes up on this farm. He decides to try and sell a new television to the farmer that lives there. When he reaches the door he knocks and a lady opens the door."Good afternoon miss. Is the man of the house in?" asked the salesman."It don't matter none," replied the woman. "I make all of the decisions around here and I've decided we're getting an automatic milker.""Well, is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82791136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82791136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_10_06_archive.html#82791136' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82700042</id><published>2002-10-08T13:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:49:27.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One evening a husband comes home very late in the morning. He is hoping that his wife is asleep and won't notice what time it is. Luck is not on his side as his wife is sitting at the dining room table waiting."Just where the hell have you been?" yelled the angry wife."Well, I'm not going to lie to you. I was out getting a tatoo," replied the husband."A tatoo?" exclaimed his surprised spouse."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82700042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82700042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_10_06_archive.html#82700042' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82481190</id><published>2002-10-03T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:50:02.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A man and a friend are playing golf one day. One of the guys is about to chip onto the green when he sees a long funeral procession on the road next to the course.He stops in midswing, takes off his golf cap, closes his eyes, and bows down in prayer.His friend says: "Wow, that is the most thoughtful and touching thing I have ever seen. You are truly a kind man."The man then replies: "Yeah, well, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82481190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82481190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82481190' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82481115</id><published>2002-10-03T15:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:50:29.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Texan and Harvard graduate found themselves sitting on a train next to one another. Not to seem unfriendly, the Texan decided to strike up a conversation."Where are you from?" asked the Texan.The Harvard grad replied, "I come from a place where we do not end our sentences with prepositions."The Texan was a bit put off by this comment but not to be out done he tried again. "OK - So, where are </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82481115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82481115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82481115' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82480151</id><published>2002-10-03T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:51:11.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A couple of New Jersey hunters are out in the woods when one of them falls to the ground. He doesn’t seem to be breathing, his eyes are rolled back in his head.The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls the emergency services. He gasps to the operator: "My friend is dead! What can I do?"The operator, in a calm, soothing voice, says: "Just take it easy. I can help. First, let’s make sure he’</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82480151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82480151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82480151' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82434499</id><published>2002-10-02T16:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:51:40.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There were these two guys that boarded the same train headed to Pittsburgh. It turned out that the two men had seats next to one another. The first man found his seat and sat down. When the second man arrived at his seat the first man noticed that he had a black eye. The first thought this was an amazing coincidence because he too had a black eye. Once both men were seated the second man turned </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82434499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82434499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82434499' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82425922</id><published>2002-10-02T12:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:52:15.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This man boarded a plane for a buisiness trip. The man was seated next to a young lady. At first the man took little notice of the lady as he was happily married and had no desire to look at other women. Shortly after sitting down in his seat the woman sneezed. The man politely said, "Bless you," to the young lady. She thanked the man and pulled a kleenex out of her bag. Out of the corner of his </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82425922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82425922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82425922' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82422449</id><published>2002-10-02T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:52:44.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One day this man walked into a gun store and told the shop owner that he was looking a good, powerful scope. The store owner walked over to a case, pulled out a scope and set it on the counter. He looked at the customer and said, "This here is the latest thing in scope technology. With this scope you can see two miles away just as if you were standing 10 feet from your target."The customer looked</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82422449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82422449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82422449' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-82421287</id><published>2002-10-02T11:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:53:14.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This is a true story ripped out of the headlines in a Georgia newspaperOne evening while driving down a small country road this intoxicated man passed a pumpkin field. As he passed the field it was reported that he stated thinking, "hmm...pumpkins are all moist and squishy inside." He got this idea and pulled his car off to the side of the road. The man stumbled out of the car and into the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82421287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/82421287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82421287' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-81674158</id><published>2002-09-16T10:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:54:00.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Alright, this one is a bit corny but it is one that my dad will like so I decided to put it up here so that I could remember it for later. If you don't like it...tough shit...this is my blog.One day there were three friends sitting at a bar drinking beer. They started talking about their marriages and the suspicions they had about their wives."I think my wife is having an affair." said the first </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81674158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81674158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_15_archive.html#81674158' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-81471250</id><published>2002-09-11T15:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:54:29.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One day a man walked up to his wife and told her she had three options of things to do and that she had to do one of them. The wife asked what were her three options. The husband replied, "1 - You can go hunting with me. 2 - You can give me a blow job. or 3 - You can let me fuck you up the ass."The wife thought for a mintue and then said, "Well, you know how much I hate hunting so that option is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81471250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81471250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81471250' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-81420443</id><published>2002-09-10T15:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:54:51.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Late one summer night a cab driver was doing his shift out near the local airport. He was lloking for a fare when out of a shadow he saw a figure motion for a ride. The cabbie pulled up to the curb and instantly the door opened and a rider jumped in the backseat. The driver looked and found his fare was a woman dressed only in a long fur coat. The driver was shocked and aroused. "Where to?" he </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81420443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81420443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81420443' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-81418451</id><published>2002-09-10T15:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:55:11.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>During the summer a man and his wife take their young son to the zoo.  They walk around and look at all the animals and such.  Finally they come to the elephants.  While watching the elephants the father leaves to go use the restroom.While the father is gone the little boy looks at his mom and asks, "What is that big long thing hanging down on the elephant?"His mother replies, "Why that is the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81418451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81418451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81418451' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-81417612</id><published>2002-09-10T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:55:29.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One day two friends were sitting around talking.  One friend was a wealthy businessman while the other was a poor blue collar worker.  Both men sat and discussed their anniversaries and what they were each getting their wives."I got my wife a new BMW and a diamond tennis bracelet." stated the wealthy friend.Amazed by such lavish gifts, the poor friend asked, "Why are you giving her two gifts?"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81417612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81417612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81417612' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-3771980.post-81416689</id><published>2002-09-10T14:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T09:55:49.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One day this older lady decided that she wanted some plastic surgery to make her look younger.  She went to a plastic surgeon and paid him several thousand dollars and asked that he make her look young.  After the surgery was done and she was all healed she went out to get some opinions from strangers to help her feel better about herself and to validate the money that she had spent.As she walked</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81416689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3771980/posts/default/81416689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdrtx2.blogspot.com/2002_09_08_archive.html#81416689' title=''/><author><name>Gary</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>
