<?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-7605422</id><updated>2011-08-08T04:47:59.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughs OnLine</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome Home to Humor and e-mail Jokes on the net. You can view, search, find, share, copy and paste Jokes until all hours of the night. I hope you find your Gut Busting! Remember to Laugh every day, for better Health!    Enjoy!  :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>177</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-115792837201078949</id><published>2006-09-10T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T04:04:37.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Gardening</title><content type='html'>A teenage granddaughter comes downstairs for her date with this see-through blouse on and no bra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her grandmother just pitched a fit, telling her not to dare go out like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teenager tells her, "Loosen up Grams. These are modern times. You gotta let your rose buds show!" and out she goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the teenager comes down stairs, and the grandmother is sitting there with no top on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teenager wants to die. She explains to her grandmother that she has friends coming over and that it is just not appropriate.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grandmother says, "Loosen up, Sweetie. If you can show off your rose buds, then I can display my hanging baskets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Gardening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-115792837201078949?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/115792837201078949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=115792837201078949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/115792837201078949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/115792837201078949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2006/09/happy-gardening.html' title='Happy Gardening'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-112102630908340741</id><published>2005-05-18T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T12:46:04.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Surgery</title><content type='html'>Two little kids are in a hospital, lying on stretchers next to each other, outside the operating room. The first kid leans over and asks, "What are you in here for?" The second kid says, "I'm in here to get my tonsils out and I'm a little nervous." The first kid says, "You've got nothing to worry about. I had that done when I was four. They put you to sleep, and when you wake up they give you lots of Jell-O and ice cream. It's a breeze." The second kid then asks, "What are you here for?" The first kid says, "A Circumcision." And the second kid says, "Whoa, Good luck buddy, I had that done when I was born. Couldn't walk for a year."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-112102630908340741?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/112102630908340741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=112102630908340741' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/112102630908340741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/112102630908340741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/05/surgery.html' title='Surgery'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-112102594336521203</id><published>2005-05-18T12:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T13:05:43.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Razor Blade of Life</title><content type='html'>As You Slide Down The Razor Blade Of Life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Jim Baker and Jimmy Swaggert have written an impressive new book.&lt;br /&gt;It's called "Ministers Do More Than Lay People."&lt;br /&gt;2. Transvestite: A guy who likes to eat, drink and be Mary.&lt;br /&gt;3. The difference between the Pope and your boss...&lt;br /&gt;the Pope only expects you to kiss his ring.&lt;br /&gt;4. My mind works like lightning.&lt;br /&gt;One brilliant flash and it is gone.&lt;br /&gt;5. The only time the world beats a path to your door is if you're in the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;6. I hate sex in the movies. Tried it once.&lt;br /&gt;The seat folded up, the drink spilled and that ice, well, it really chilled the mood.&lt;br /&gt;7. It used to be only death and taxes were inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;Now, of course, there's shipping and handling, too.&lt;br /&gt;8. A husband is someone who, after taking the trash out,&lt;br /&gt;gives the impression that he just cleaned the whole house.&lt;br /&gt;9. My next house will have no kitchen -&lt;br /&gt;just vending machines and a large trash can.&lt;br /&gt;10. A blonde said, "I was worried that my mechanic might try to rip me off.&lt;br /&gt;I was relieved when he told me all I needed was turn signal fluid."&lt;br /&gt;11. I'm so depressed. My doctor refused to write me a prescription for Viagra.&lt;br /&gt;He said it would be like putting a new flag pole on a condemned building.&lt;br /&gt;12. My neighbour was bit by a stray rabid dog. I went to see how he was and found him writing frantically on a piece of paper. I told him rabies could be cured and he didn't have to worry about a Will. He said, "Will? What Will? I'm making a list of the people I want to bite."&lt;br /&gt;13. Definition of a teenager?&lt;br /&gt;God's punishment for enjoying sex.&lt;br /&gt;14. As we slide down the bannister of life,&lt;br /&gt;may the splinters never point the wrong way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-112102594336521203?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/112102594336521203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=112102594336521203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/112102594336521203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/112102594336521203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/05/razor-blade-of-life.html' title='The Razor Blade of Life'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111748523273343374</id><published>2005-05-14T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T13:50:32.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blonde and Chimpanzees</title><content type='html'>A blonde lady motorist was about two hours from San Diego when she was flagged down by a man whose truck had broken down. The man walked up to the car and asked, "Are you going to San Diego?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," answered the blonde, "do you need a lift?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not for me. I'll be spending the next three hours fixing my truck. My problem is I've got two chimpanzees in the back which have to be taken to the San Diego Zoo. They're a bit stressed already, so I don't want to keep them on the road. Could you possibly take them to the zoo for me? I'll give you $100 for your trouble."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd be happy to, " said the blonde. So the two chimpanzees were ushered into the back seat of the blonde's car and carefully strapped into their seat belts. Off they went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five hours later, the truck driver was driving through San Diego when suddenly he was horrified! There was the blonde walking down the street and holding hands with the two chimps, much to the amusement of a big crowd. With a screech of brakes he pulled off the road and ran over to the blonde. "What the heck are you doing here? " he demanded, "I gave you $100 to take these chimpanzees to the zoo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I know you did, " said the blonde, "but we had money left over---so now we're going to Sea World."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111748523273343374?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111748523273343374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111748523273343374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748523273343374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748523273343374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/05/blonde-and-chimpanzees.html' title='The Blonde and Chimpanzees'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111748127904059738</id><published>2005-05-14T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T13:13:34.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now You Know Everything</title><content type='html'>A dime has 118 ridges around the edge.&lt;br /&gt;A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.&lt;br /&gt;A crocodile cannot stick out its tongue.&lt;br /&gt;A dragonfly has a life span of 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt;A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds.&lt;br /&gt;A "jiffy" is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.&lt;br /&gt;A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyes.&lt;br /&gt;A snail can sleep for three years.&lt;br /&gt;Al Capone's business card said he was a used furniture dealer.&lt;br /&gt;All 50 states are listed across the top of the Lincoln Memorial on the back of the $5 bill.&lt;br /&gt;Almonds are a member of the peach family.&lt;br /&gt;An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.&lt;br /&gt;Babies are born without knee caps. They don't appear until the child reaches 2 to 6 years of age.&lt;br /&gt;Butterflies taste with their feet.&lt;br /&gt;Cats have over one hundred vocal sounds.&lt;br /&gt;Dogs only have about 10.&lt;br /&gt;"Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt."&lt;br /&gt;February 1865 is the only month in recorded history not to have a full moon.&lt;br /&gt;In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.&lt;br /&gt;If the population of China walked past you, in single file, the line would never end because of the rate of reproduction.&lt;br /&gt;If you are an average American, in your whole life, you will spend an average of 6 months waiting at red lights.&lt;br /&gt;It's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.&lt;br /&gt;Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors.&lt;br /&gt;Maine is the only state whose name is just one syllable.&lt;br /&gt;No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver, or purple.&lt;br /&gt;On a Canadian two dollar bill, the flag flying over the Parliament building is an American flag.&lt;br /&gt;Our nose and ears never stop growing.&lt;br /&gt;Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite.&lt;br /&gt;Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.&lt;br /&gt;"Stewardesses" is the longest word typed with only the left hand and "lollipop" with your right.&lt;br /&gt;The average person's left hand does 56% of the typing.&lt;br /&gt;The cruise liner, QE2, moves only six inches for each gallon of diesel fuel that it burns.&lt;br /&gt;The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket.&lt;br /&gt;The sentence: "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" uses every letter of the alphabet.&lt;br /&gt;The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely solid.&lt;br /&gt;The words 'racecar,' 'kayak' and 'level' are the same whether they are read left to right or right to left (palindromes).&lt;br /&gt;There are 293 ways to make change for a dollar.&lt;br /&gt;There are more chickens than people in the world.&lt;br /&gt;There are only four words in the English language which end in "dous": tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous.&lt;br /&gt;There are two words in the English language that have all five vowels in order: "abstemious" and "facetious."&lt;br /&gt;There's no Betty Rubble in the Flintstones Chewables Vitamins.&lt;br /&gt;Tigers have striped skin, not just striped fur.&lt;br /&gt;TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one row of the keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;Winston Churchill was born in a ladies' room during a dance.&lt;br /&gt;Women blink nearly twice as much as men.&lt;br /&gt;Your stomach has to produce a new layer of mucus every two weeks; otherwise it will digest itself.&lt;br /&gt;Okay.................Now you know everything !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111748127904059738?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111748127904059738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111748127904059738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748127904059738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748127904059738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/05/now-you-know-everything.html' title='Now You Know Everything'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111748483553907267</id><published>2005-05-07T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T13:27:15.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things To Ponder</title><content type='html'>Can you cry under water?&lt;br /&gt;How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?&lt;br /&gt;If money doesn't grow on trees then why do banks have branches?&lt;br /&gt;Since bread is square, then why is sandwich meat round?&lt;br /&gt;Why do you have to "put your two cents in"...&lt;br /&gt;but it's only a"penny for your thoughts"?&lt;br /&gt;Where's that extra penny going to?&lt;br /&gt;Once you're in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity?Why does a round pizza come in a square box?&lt;br /&gt;What disease did cured ham actually have?&lt;br /&gt;How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on luggage?&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up like every two hours?&lt;br /&gt;If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing?&lt;br /&gt;Why are you IN a movie, but you're ON TV?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?&lt;br /&gt;How come we choose from just two people for President and fifty for Miss America?&lt;br /&gt;Why do doctors leave the room while you change?&lt;br /&gt;They're going to see you naked anyway.&lt;br /&gt;If a 911 operator has a heart attack, whom does he/she call?&lt;br /&gt;Why is "bra" singular and "panties" plural?&lt;br /&gt;Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?&lt;br /&gt;If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a stupid song about him?&lt;br /&gt;Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?&lt;br /&gt;If the professor on Gilligan's Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in a boat?&lt;br /&gt;If Wyle E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn't he just buy dinner?&lt;br /&gt;If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?&lt;br /&gt;Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?&lt;br /&gt;Why did you just try singing the two songs above?&lt;br /&gt;Why do they call it an asteroid when it's outside the hemisphere,&lt;br /&gt;but call it a hemorrhoid when it's in your butt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111748483553907267?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111748483553907267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111748483553907267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748483553907267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748483553907267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/05/things-to-ponder.html' title='Things To Ponder'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111748387228574313</id><published>2005-05-07T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T13:14:31.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arriving At The Pearly Gates</title><content type='html'>A minister dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates.&lt;br /&gt;Ahead of him is a guy who is dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, a leather jacket, and jeans.&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter addresses this guy, "Who are you so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?"&lt;br /&gt;The guy replies, "I'm Joey Shasta, a retired airline pilot from Dallas."&lt;br /&gt;Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the pilot, "Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom."&lt;br /&gt;The pilot goes into Heaven with his robe and staff.&lt;br /&gt;Next it's the minister's turn. He stands erect and booms out, "I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary's for the last 43 years."&lt;br /&gt;Saint Peter consults his list. He says to the minister, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom."&lt;br /&gt;"Just a minute," says the minister. "That man was a pilot and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?"&lt;br /&gt;"Up here, we work by results," says Saint Peter. "While you preached, people slept; while he flew, people prayed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111748387228574313?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111748387228574313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111748387228574313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748387228574313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748387228574313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/05/arriving-at-pearly-gates.html' title='Arriving At The Pearly Gates'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111748348788557173</id><published>2005-05-07T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T14:47:03.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Know Your State Motto</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Alabama&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heck Yes, We Have Electricity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alaska&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Arizona&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But It's A Dry Heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Arkansas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Literacy Ain't Everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;California&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic Than Your Honda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Colorado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If You Don't Ski,&lt;br /&gt;Don't Bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Connecticut&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Massachusetts,&lt;br /&gt;Only The Kennedy's Don't Own It Yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Delaware&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We Really Do Like The Chemicals In Our Water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Florida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask Us About Our Grandkids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Georgia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We Put The Fun In Fundamentalist Extremism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hawaii &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haka Tiki Mou Sha'ami Leeki Toru.&lt;br /&gt;(Death To Mainland Scum,&lt;br /&gt;Leave Your Money)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Idaho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Than Just Potatoes...&lt;br /&gt;Well, Okay, We're Not,&lt;br /&gt;But The Potatoes Sure Are Real Good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Illinois&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please Don't Pronounce the "s".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Indiana&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Iowa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We Do Amazing Things With Corn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kansas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Of The Rectangle States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kentucky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Louisiana&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're Not ALL Drunk Cajun Wackos,&lt;br /&gt;But That's Our Tourism Campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're Really Cold,&lt;br /&gt;But We Have Cheap Lobster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maryland&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If You Can Dream It,&lt;br /&gt;We Can Tax It.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Massachusetts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden's...&lt;br /&gt;or Most Tax Brackets)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Michigan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Line Of Defense From The Canadians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Minnesota &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10,000 Lakes...&lt;br /&gt;And 10,000,000,000,000 Mosquitoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mississippi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come And Feel Better About Your Own State.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Missouri&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars At Work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Montana&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Land Of The Big Sky, The Unabomber,&lt;br /&gt;Right-wing Crazies, and Very Little Else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nebraska&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask About Our State Motto Contest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nevada &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hookers and Poker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Hampshire&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go Away And Leave Us Alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Jersey&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Want A ##$%##! Motto?&lt;br /&gt;I Got Yer ##$%##! Motto Right here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Mexico&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizards Make Excellent Pets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New York&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Have The Right To Remain Silent,&lt;br /&gt;You Have The Right To An Attorney...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;North Carolina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tobacco Is A Vegetable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;North Dakota&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We Really Are One Of The 50 States!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ohio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Least We're Not Michigan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oklahoma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like The Play,&lt;br /&gt;But No Singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oregon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spotted Owl...&lt;br /&gt;It's What's For Dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pennsylvania&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cook With Coal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rhode Island&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're Not REALLY An Island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;South Carolina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember The Civil War?&lt;br /&gt;We Didn't Actually Surrender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;South Dakota&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closer Than North Dakota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tennessee&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The EdyoocashunState.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Texas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SÃ&amp;shy;, Hablo Ingles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Utah&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Jesus Is Better Than Your Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vermont&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Virginia &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who Says Government Stiffs,&lt;br /&gt;And Slackjaw Yokels Don't Mix?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Washington &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have more rain than you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Washington, D.C.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna Be Mayor ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;West Virginia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Big Happy Family...&lt;br /&gt;Really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wisconsin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come Cut The Cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wyoming&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where Men Are Men...&lt;br /&gt;And The Sheep Are Scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111748348788557173?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111748348788557173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111748348788557173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748348788557173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748348788557173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/05/know-your-state-motto.html' title='Know Your State Motto'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111748153311491457</id><published>2005-04-13T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T17:56:11.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Needs A Wabbit</title><content type='html'>A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks, in the sweetest little lisp, between two missing teeth, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees so that he's on her level and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says, in a tiny quiet voice, "I don't think my python weally gives a thit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111748153311491457?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111748153311491457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111748153311491457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748153311491457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111748153311491457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/girl-needs-wabbit.html' title='Girl Needs A Wabbit'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111747981874570069</id><published>2005-04-13T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T13:17:28.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You for shopping at Wal-Mart</title><content type='html'>One day, in line at the company cafeteria, Joe says to Wayne behind him, "My elbow hurts like hell. I guess I better see a doctor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen, you don't have to spend that kind of money," Wayne replies. "There's a diagnostic computer down at Wal-Mart. Just give it a urine sample and the computer will tell you what's wrong and what to do about it. It takes ten seconds and costs ten dollars and it's a lot cheaper than a doctor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Joe deposits a urine sample in a small jar and takes it to Wal-Mart. He deposits ten dollars, and the computer lights up and asks for the urine sample. He pours the sample into the slot and waits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten seconds later, the computer ejects a printout: "You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water and avoid heavy activity. It will improve in two weeks." Thank you for shopping @ Wal-Mart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was, Joe began wondering if the computer could be fooled. He mixed some tap water, a Stool sample from his dog, urine samples from his wife and daughter, and a Sperm sample for good measure. Joe hurries back to Wal-Mart, eager to check the results. He deposits ten dollars, pours in his concoction, and awaits the results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The computer prints the following:&lt;br /&gt;1. Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener.(Aisle 9)&lt;br /&gt;2. Your dog has ringworm.Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo.(Aisle 7)&lt;br /&gt;3. Your daughter has a cocaine habit. Get her into rehab.&lt;br /&gt;4. Your wife is pregnant. Twins. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer.&lt;br /&gt;5. If you don't stop playing with yourself, your elbow will never get better.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for shopping @ Wal-Mart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111747981874570069?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111747981874570069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111747981874570069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111747981874570069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111747981874570069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/thank-you-for-shopping-at-wal-mart.html' title='Thank You for shopping at Wal-Mart'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111747814978615473</id><published>2005-04-13T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T08:30:10.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishing</title><content type='html'>One morning on a lake in Idaho, the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors and continues to read her book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along comes a game warden in his boat. He pulls up alongside the woman and says, "Good morning, ma'am. What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Reading a book," she replies (thinking isn't that obvious?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're in a restricted fishing area", he informs her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry officer, but I'm not fishing, I'm reading."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault," says the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I have not even touched you," says the game warden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have a nice day ma'am," and he left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111747814978615473?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111747814978615473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111747814978615473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111747814978615473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111747814978615473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/fishing.html' title='Fishing'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111318353035110483</id><published>2005-04-10T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T18:38:50.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Woman Driver</title><content type='html'>A woman and a man are involved in a car accident on a snowy, cold Monday morning; it's a bad one. Both of their cars are totally demolished but amazingly neither of them are hurt. God works in Mysterious ways. After they crawl out of their cars, the woman says, "So you're a man. That's interesting. I'm a woman. Wow, just look at our cars! There's nothing left, but we're unhurt. This must be a sign from God that we should meet and be friends and live together in peace for the rest of our days".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flattered, the man replies, "Oh yes, I agree with you completely, this must be a sign from God!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman continues, "And look at this, here's another miracle. My car is completely demolished but this bottle of wine didn't break. Surely God wants us to drink this wine and celebrate our good fortune."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she hands the bottle to the man. The man nods his head in agreement, opens it and drinks half the bottle and then hands it back to the woman. The woman takes the bottle and immediately puts the cap back on, and hands it back to the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man asks, "Aren't you having any?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman replies, "No. I think I'll just wait for the police...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111318353035110483?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111318353035110483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111318353035110483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111318353035110483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111318353035110483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/woman-driver.html' title='Woman Driver'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111317921446622883</id><published>2005-04-10T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T17:38:41.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Visiting Minister</title><content type='html'>A visiting minister during the offertory prayer: "Dear Lord," he began with arms extended and a rapturous look on his upturned face, "without you we are but dust..."&lt;br /&gt;He would have continued, but at that moment one little girl leaned over to her mother and asked quite audibly in her shrill little girl voice, "Mommy, WHAT is butt dust?"&lt;br /&gt;Church was pretty much over at that point...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111317921446622883?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111317921446622883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111317921446622883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317921446622883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317921446622883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/visiting-minister.html' title='Visiting Minister'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111317877422660461</id><published>2005-04-10T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T17:19:34.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Atheist</title><content type='html'>An atheist was taking a walk through the woods. "What majestic trees! What powerful rivers!What beautiful animals!" he said to himself. As he was walking alongside the river he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. He turned to look. He saw a 7 foot grizzly charge towards him. He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the bear was closing in on him. He looked over his shoulder again, and the bear was even closer. He tripped and fell on the ground. He rolled over to pick himself up but saw the bear right on top of him, reaching for him with his left paw and raising his right paw to strike him. At that instant the Atheist cried out: "Oh my God!..." Time stopped. The bear froze. The forest was silent. As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky: "You deny my existence for all of these years, teach others I don't exist, and even credit creation to a cosmic accident. Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?" The atheist looked directly into the light, "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask You to treat me as a Christian now, but perhaps could you make the BEAR a Christian?" "Very well," said the voice. The light went out. The sounds of the forest resumed. And then the bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws together and bowed his head and spoke: "Lord, bless this food, which I am about to receive, from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111317877422660461?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111317877422660461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111317877422660461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317877422660461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317877422660461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/atheist.html' title='The Atheist'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111317559918834753</id><published>2005-04-10T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T16:26:39.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wife Surprises Downsized Husband</title><content type='html'>On their wedding night, the young bride approached her new husband and asked for $20.00 for their first lovemaking encounter. In his highly aroused state her husband readily agreed. This scenario was repeated each time they made love, for the next 30 years, with him thinking that it was a cute way for her to afford new clothes and other incidentals that she needed. Arriving home around noon one day, she was surprised to find her husband in a very drunken state. During the next few minutes, he explained that his employer was going through a process of corporate downsizing, and he had been let go. It was unlikely that at the age of 55, he'd be able to find another position that paid anywhere near what he'd been earning, and therefore, they were financially ruined. Calmly, his wife handed him a bank book which showed thirty years of deposits and interest totaling nearly $1 million. Then, she showed him certificates of deposits issued by the bank which were worth over $2 million, and informed him that they were one of the largest depositors in the bank. She explained that for the 30 years she had charged him for sex, these holdings had multiplied and these were the results of her savings and investments. Faced with evidence of cash and investments worth over $ 3 million, her husband was so astounded he could barely speak, but finally he found his voice and blurted out "If I'd had any idea what you were doing, I would have given you all my business !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111317559918834753?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111317559918834753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111317559918834753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317559918834753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317559918834753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/wife-surprises-downsized-husband.html' title='Wife Surprises Downsized Husband'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111317103761702355</id><published>2005-04-10T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T15:10:37.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Facts</title><content type='html'>If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Hardly seems worth it.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Now that's more like it!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(O.M.G.!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(In my next life, I want to be a pig.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Creepy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(I'm still not over the pig.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories a hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Don't try this at home...maybe at work)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body.&lt;br /&gt;The female initiates sex by ripping the male's head off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;("Honey, I'm home. What the....?!")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flea can jump 350 times its body length.&lt;br /&gt;It's like a human jumping the length of a football field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(30 minutes..lucky pig! Can you imagine?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some lions mate over 50 times a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(I still want to be a pig in my next life...quality over quantity)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Butterflies taste with their feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Something I always wanted to know.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Hmmmmmm......)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(okay, so that would be a good thing)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cat's urine glows under a black light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(I wonder who was paid to figure that out?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(I know some people like that.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starfish have no brains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(I know some people like that too.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Polar bears are left-handed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(What about that pig??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111317103761702355?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111317103761702355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111317103761702355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317103761702355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111317103761702355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/fun-facts.html' title='Fun Facts'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111316921058275442</id><published>2005-04-10T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T14:44:43.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cows</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;DEMOCRATIC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;Your neighbor has none.&lt;br /&gt;You feel guilty for being successful.&lt;br /&gt;Barbara Streisand sings for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;REPUBLICAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;Your neighbor has none.&lt;br /&gt;So?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;SOCIALIST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.&lt;br /&gt;You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;COMMUNIST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;The government seizes both and provides you with milk.&lt;br /&gt;You wait in line for hours to get it.&lt;br /&gt;It is expensive and sour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;AMERICAN CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.&lt;br /&gt;You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows.&lt;br /&gt;You are surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.&lt;br /&gt;Your stock goes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;FRENCH CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;You go on strike because you want three cows.&lt;br /&gt;You go to lunch and drink wine.&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;JAPANESE CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.&lt;br /&gt;They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.&lt;br /&gt;Most are at the top of their class at cow school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;GERMAN CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;ITALIAN CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows but you don't know where they are.&lt;br /&gt;While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.&lt;br /&gt;You break for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;RUSSIAN CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;You have some vodka.&lt;br /&gt;You count them and learn you have five cows.&lt;br /&gt;You have some more vodka.&lt;br /&gt;You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.&lt;br /&gt;The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;TALIBAN CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.&lt;br /&gt;You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature' private parts.&lt;br /&gt;You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;IRAQI CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two cows.&lt;br /&gt;They go into hiding.&lt;br /&gt;They send radio tapes of their mooing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;POLISH CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two bulls.&lt;br /&gt;Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;BELGIAN CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have one cow.&lt;br /&gt;The cow is schizophrenic.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish.&lt;br /&gt;The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.&lt;br /&gt;The French cow wants control of the Flemish cows milk.&lt;br /&gt;The cow asks permission to be cut in half.&lt;br /&gt;The cow dies happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;FLORIDA CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have a black cow and a brown cow.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone votes for the best looking one.&lt;br /&gt;Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one.&lt;br /&gt;Some people vote for both.&lt;br /&gt;Some people vote for neither.&lt;br /&gt;Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best-looking cow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;CALIFORNIA CORPORATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have millions of cows.&lt;br /&gt;They make real California cheese.&lt;br /&gt;Only five speak English.&lt;br /&gt;Most are illegals.&lt;br /&gt;Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111316921058275442?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111316921058275442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111316921058275442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111316921058275442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111316921058275442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/cows.html' title='Cows'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111257568538305958</id><published>2005-04-03T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T17:59:20.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smart Cats</title><content type='html'>Four men were bragging about how smart their cats are. The first man was an Engineer, the second man was an Accountant, the third man was a Chemist, the fourth was a Government Employee. To show off, the Engineer called to his cat, "Tsquare, do your stuff." Tsquare pranced over to a desk, took out some paper and a pen and promptly drew a circle, a square, and a triangle. Everyone agreed that was pretty smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the Accountant said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said, "Spreadsheet, do your stuff." Spreadsheet went out into the kitchen and returned with a dozen cookies. He divided them into 4 equal piles of 3 cookies each. Everyone agreed that was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the Chemist said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said, "Measure, do your stuff." Measure got up, walked over to the fridge, took out a quart of milk, got a 10 ounce glass from the cupboard and poured exactly 8 ounces without spilling a drop. Everyone agreed that was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the three men turned to the Government Employee and said, "What can your cat do?" The Government Worker called to his cat and said, "CoffeeBreak, do your stuff." Coffee Break jumped to his feet, ate the cookies, drank the milk, shit on the paper, screwed the other three cats, claimed he injured his back while doing so, filed a grievance report for unsafe working conditions, put in for Workers Compensation and went home for the rest of the day on sick leave ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111257568538305958?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111257568538305958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111257568538305958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257568538305958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257568538305958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/smart-cats.html' title='Smart Cats'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111257251837776764</id><published>2005-04-03T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T16:55:18.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alligator Shoes</title><content type='html'>A young blonde was on vacation and driving through the Everglades. She wanted to take home a pair of genuine alligator shoes in the worst way, but was very reluctant to pay the high prices the local vendors were asking. After becoming very frustrated with the "no haggle on prices" attitude of one of the shopkeepers, the blonde shouted, "Well then, maybe I'll just go out and catch my own alligator, so I can get a pair of shoes for free!". The shopkeeper said with a sly, knowing smile, "Little lady, just go and give it a try!" The blonde headed out toward the swamps, determined to catch an alligator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the day, as the shopkeeper is driving home, he pulls over to the side of the levee where he spots that same young woman standing waist deep in the murky bayou water, shotgun in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, he spots a huge 9-foot gator swimming rapidly toward her. With lightning speed, she takes aim, kills the creature and hauls it onto the slimy bank of the swamp. Lying nearby were 7 more of the dead creatures, all lying on their backs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shopkeeper stood on the bank, watching in silent amazement. The blonde struggled and flipped the gator onto its back. Rolling her eyes heaven-ward and screaming in great frustration, she shouts out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"SH* T... THIS ONE'S BAREFOOT TOO!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111257251837776764?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111257251837776764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111257251837776764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257251837776764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257251837776764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/alligator-shoes.html' title='Alligator Shoes'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111256993109364704</id><published>2005-04-03T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T16:12:11.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rose Buds &amp; Hanging Baskets</title><content type='html'>A teenage granddaughter comes downstairs for her date with a very sheer blouse on and no bra. Her grandmother just pitched a fit, telling her not to dare go out like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teenager tells her "Loosen up Grams. These are modern times. You gotta let your rose buds show!" and out she goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the teenager comes down stairs, and the grandmother is sitting there with no top on. The teenager wants to die..  She explains to her grandmother that she has friends coming over and that it is just not appropriate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grandmother says, "Loosen up, Sweetie. If you can show off your rosebuds, then I can display my hanging baskets."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Gardening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111256993109364704?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111256993109364704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111256993109364704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111256993109364704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111256993109364704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/rose-buds-hanging-baskets.html' title='Rose Buds &amp; Hanging Baskets'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111257947931915383</id><published>2005-04-01T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T18:51:19.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Little Animals</title><content type='html'>A teacher asked her class, "What do you want out of life?"&lt;br /&gt;A little girl in the back row raised her hand and said, "All I want out of life is four little animals."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher asked, "Really and what four little animals would that be sugar?"&lt;br /&gt;The little girl said, "A mink on my back, a jaguar in the garage, a tiger in the bed and of course I'll need a jackass to pay for all of it."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher fainted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111257947931915383?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111257947931915383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111257947931915383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257947931915383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257947931915383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/04/four-little-animals.html' title='Four Little Animals'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111258075057492918</id><published>2005-03-31T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T17:16:18.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>-March 2005: Favorite Selections-</title><content type='html'>Favorite Joke : "&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Church Gossip&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Link : "&lt;a href="http://www.organdonor.org/register.html"&gt;The National Organ And Tissue Donor Registry&lt;/a&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Comedian Site : "&lt;a href="http://www.kathleenmadigan.com/"&gt;Kathleen Madigan&lt;/a&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Remember to submit your vote for next month!&lt;br /&gt;Send your e-mail to &lt;a href="mailto:Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz"&gt;Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111258075057492918?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111258075057492918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111258075057492918' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111258075057492918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111258075057492918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/march-2005-favorite-selections.html' title='-March 2005: Favorite Selections-'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111204346491188541</id><published>2005-03-28T12:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T12:57:44.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Humor In Uniform</title><content type='html'>On some air bases, the Air Force is on one side of the field and civilian aircraft use the other side of the field, with the control tower in the middle. One day such a tower received a call from an aircraft asking,"What time is it?" The tower responded, "Who's calling?" The aircraft replied, "What difference does it make?" and the tower explained, "It makes a lot of difference. If it is an American Airlines flight, it is 3 o'clock. If it is an Air Force plane, it is 1500 hours. If it is a Navy aircraft, it is 6 bells. If it is an Army aircraft, the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 3; and if it is a Marine Corps aircraft, it's Thursday afternoon and 120 minutes to "Happy Hour."&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;During training exercises, the lieutenant who was driving down a muddy back road encountered another car stuck in the mud with a red-faced colonel at the wheel. "Your jeep stuck, sir?" asked the lieutenant as he pulled alongside. "Nope," replied the colonel, coming over and handing him the keys, "yours is."&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Having just moved into his new office, a pompous, new colonel was sitting at his desk when an airman knocked on the door. Conscious of his new position, the colonel quickly picked up the phone, then called out for the airman to enter. As the airman entered the office, the colonel said into the phone, "Yes,General, I'll be seeing him this afternoon and I'll pass along your message. In the meantime, thank you for your good wishes, sir." Feeling as though he had sufficiently impressed the young enlisted man, he asked, "What do you want?" "Nothing important, sir," the airman replied, "I'm just here to hook up your telephone."&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Officer: "Soldier, do you have change for a dollar? "Soldier: "Sure, buddy." Officer: "That's no way to address an officer! Now let's try it again! Soldier, Do you have change for a dollar?" Soldier: "No, SIR!"&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;An Air Force Chief Master Sergeant and a General were sitting in the barbershop. They were both just getting finished with their shaves, when the barbers reached for some after-shave to slap on their faces. The General shouted, "Hey, don't put that stuff on me! My wife will think I've been in a whore house!" The Chief turned to his barber and said, "Go ahead and put it on. My wife doesn't know what the inside of a whorehouse smells like."&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;"Well," snarled the tough old Navy Chief to the bewildered Seaman, "I suppose after you get discharged from the Navy, you'll just be waiting for me to die so you can come and pee on my grave." "Not me, Chief!" the Seaman replied. "Once I get out of the Navy, I'm never going to stand in line again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111204346491188541?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111204346491188541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111204346491188541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111204346491188541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111204346491188541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/humor-in-uniform.html' title='Humor In Uniform'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111205321752937594</id><published>2005-03-27T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T15:40:17.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pick Your Hymns</title><content type='html'>One Sunday a pastor told the congregation that the church needed some extra money &amp; asked the people to prayerfully consider giving a little extra in the offering plate. He said that whoever gave the most would be able to pick out three hymns. After the offering plates were passed, the pastor glanced down &amp;amp; noticed that someone had placed a $1,000 bill in offering. He was so excited that he immediately shared his joy with his congregation &amp; said he'd like to personally thank the person who placed the money in the plate. A very quiet, elderly &amp;amp; saintly lady all the way in the back shyly raised her hand. The pastor asked her to come to the front. Slowly she made her way to the pastor. He told her how wonderful it was that she gave so much &amp;amp; in thanksgiving asked her to pick out three hymns. Her eyes brightened as she looked over the congregation, pointed to the three handsomest men in the building and said, "I'll take him... And him... And him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111205321752937594?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111205321752937594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111205321752937594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111205321752937594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111205321752937594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/pick-your-hymns.html' title='Pick Your Hymns'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111205169553024868</id><published>2005-03-27T15:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T15:14:55.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Church Gossip</title><content type='html'>Mildred, the church gossip and self-appointed arbiter of the church's morals, kept sticking her nose in the other members private lives. Church members were unappreciative of her activities, but feared her enough to maintain their silence. She made a mistake, however, when she accused George, a new member, of being an alcoholic after she saw his pickup truck parked in front of the town's only bar one afternoon. She commented to George and others that everyone seeing it there would know what he was doing. George, a man of few words, stared at her for a moment and just walked away. He didn't explain, defend, or deny, he said nothing. Later that evening, George quietly parked his pickup in front of Mildred's house.....And left it there all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;**Happy Easter Everyone**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111205169553024868?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111205169553024868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111205169553024868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111205169553024868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111205169553024868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/church-gossip.html' title='Church Gossip'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111213762753012090</id><published>2005-03-27T15:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T15:07:07.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus or Satan?</title><content type='html'>Jesus and Satan were having an on-going argument about who was better on the computer. They had been going at it for days, and frankly God was tired of hearing all the bickering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally fed up, God said, "THAT'S IT! I have had enough. I am going to set up a test that will run for two hours, and from those results, I will judge who does the better job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Satan and Jesus sat down at the keyboards and typed away.&lt;br /&gt;They moused.&lt;br /&gt;They faxed.&lt;br /&gt;They e-mailed.&lt;br /&gt;They e-mailed with attachments.&lt;br /&gt;They downloaded.&lt;br /&gt;They did spreadsheets! .&lt;br /&gt;They wrote reports.&lt;br /&gt;They created labels and cards.&lt;br /&gt;They created charts and graphs.&lt;br /&gt;They did some genealogy reports.&lt;br /&gt;They did every job known to man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus worked with heavenly efficiency and Satan was faster than hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, ten minutes before their time was up, lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, thunder rolled, rain poured, and, of course, the power went off. Satan stared at his blank screen and screamed every curseword known in the underworld. Jesus just sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the electricity came back on, and each of them restarted their computers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan started searching frantically, screaming:&lt;br /&gt;"It's gone! It's all GONE!&lt;br /&gt;"I lost everything when the power went out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Jesus quietly started printing out all of his files from the past two hours of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan observed this and became irate.&lt;br /&gt;"Wait!" he screamed.&lt;br /&gt;"That's not fair! He cheated!&lt;br /&gt;How come he has all his work and I don't have any?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God just shrugged and said, JESUS SAVES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111213762753012090?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111213762753012090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111213762753012090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111213762753012090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111213762753012090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/jesus-or-satan_27.html' title='Jesus or Satan?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111256416329813148</id><published>2005-03-27T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T14:36:03.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Beginning, God Created...</title><content type='html'>In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives. Then using God's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, "You want chocolate with that?" And Man said, "Yes!" and Woman said, "and as long as you're at it, add some sprinkles." And they gained 10 pounds. And Satan smiled. And God created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair. And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them. And Woman went from size 6 to size14. So God said, "Try my fresh green salad." And Satan presented Thousand-Island Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side. And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast. God then said, "I have sent you heart healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them." And Satan brought forth deep fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof. God then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it "Angel Food Cake," and said, "It is good." Satan then created chocolate cake and named it "Devil's Food." God then brought forth running shoes so, that His children might lose those extra pounds. And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so, Man would not have to toil changing the channels. And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds. Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them. And Man gained pounds. God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite. And Satan created McDonald's and its 99-cent double cheeseburger. Then said, "You want fries with that?" And Man replied, "Yes! And super size them!" And Satan said, "It is good." And Man went into cardiac arrest. God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery. Then Satan created HMOs.&lt;br /&gt;Thought for the day ...... There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111256416329813148?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111256416329813148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111256416329813148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111256416329813148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111256416329813148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/in-beginning-god-created.html' title='In The Beginning, God Created...'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111204411905950280</id><published>2005-03-19T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T15:07:39.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken Surprise</title><content type='html'>A couple decides to go for a meal on their anniversary. After some deliberation, they decide on their local Chinese restaurant. They peruse the menu and finally agree to share the chef's special, "Chicken Surprise." The waiter brings over the meal, served in a lidded cast-iron pot. Just as the wife is about to start in on the meal, the lid of the pot rises a tiny amount and she briefly sees two beady little eyes looking around before the lid slams back down. "Oh my God, did you see that???" she asks her husband. He tells her he didn't see anything, so she asks him to look in the pot. He reaches for it --- and again the lid rises, and this time he sees the two beady little eyes looking around before the lid firmly slams back down. Rather perturbed, he calls the waiter over. He explains what's been happening and demands an explanation. "Well sir," says the waiter, "What did you order?""We both chose the same thing," the husband replies, "the chicken surprise!" "Oh, I do apologize. This is all my fault," says the waiter. "I've brought you the Peking duck."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111204411905950280?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111204411905950280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111204411905950280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111204411905950280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111204411905950280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/chicken-surprise.html' title='Chicken Surprise'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111204208607497571</id><published>2005-03-19T12:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T15:09:43.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Before The Computer</title><content type='html'>Memory was something you lost with age.&lt;br /&gt;An application was for employment.&lt;br /&gt;A program was a TV show.&lt;br /&gt;A cursor used profanity.&lt;br /&gt;A keyboard was a piano.&lt;br /&gt;A web was a spider's home.&lt;br /&gt;A virus was the flu.&lt;br /&gt;A CD was a bank account.&lt;br /&gt;A hard drive was a long trip on the road.&lt;br /&gt;A mouse pad was where a mouse lived.&lt;br /&gt;And if you had a 3-1/2 inch floppy...&lt;br /&gt;.... You just hoped nobody ever found out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111204208607497571?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111204208607497571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111204208607497571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111204208607497571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111204208607497571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/life-before-computer.html' title='Life Before The Computer'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111257779697033214</id><published>2005-03-17T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T18:23:16.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irish Humor</title><content type='html'>A man stumbles up to the only other patron in a bar and asks if he could buy him a drink.&lt;br /&gt;"Why of course," comes the reply.&lt;br /&gt;The first man then asks: "Where are you from?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm from Ireland," replies the second man.&lt;br /&gt;The first man responds: "You don't say, I'm from Ireland too!&lt;br /&gt;Let's have another round to Ireland."&lt;br /&gt;"Of Course," replies the second man. Curious, the first man then asks:&lt;br /&gt;"Where in Ireland are you from?" "Dublin," comes the reply.&lt;br /&gt;"I can't believe it," says the first man. "I'm from Dublin too!&lt;br /&gt;Let's have another drink to Dublin."&lt;br /&gt;"Of course," replies the second man. Curiosity again strikes and the first man asks: "&lt;br /&gt;What school did you go to?" "Saint Mary's," replies the second man. "I graduated in '62."&lt;br /&gt;"This is unbelievable!" the first man says. "I went to Saint Mary's and I graduated in '62, too!"&lt;br /&gt;About that time in comes one of the regulars and sits down at the bar.&lt;br /&gt;"What's been going on?" he asks the bartender. "Nothing much," replies the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;"The O'Malley twins are drunk again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;****************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister Mary Margaret enters O 'Flynn's liquor shop.&lt;br /&gt;"I'd like to buy a bottle of Irish whiskey", she tells O 'Flynn. The owner of the store shakes his head and frowns. "A bottle of Irish whiskey? And you being a nun too." "Oh no, no," Sister Mary Margaret exclaims. "It's for Father Reilly. His constipation, you know."&lt;br /&gt;O'Flynn smiles, nods, and puts a bottle into a bag. Sister Mary Margaret pays, takes the bag and goes on her way. Later that day, O'Flynn closes shop for the day. On his way home he passes an alley. There in the alley is Sister Mary Margaret. She's rip roaring drunk, the empty bottle at her side.&lt;br /&gt;"Sister!" O'Flynn scolds. "And you said it was for Father Reilly's constipation."&lt;br /&gt;"It is," answers Sister Mary Margaret.&lt;br /&gt;"When he sees me, he's gonna shit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;**********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut. The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Sir, have you been drinking?"&lt;br /&gt;"Just water," says the priest.&lt;br /&gt;The trooper says, "Then why do I smell wine?"&lt;br /&gt;The priest looks at the bottle and says, "Good Lord! He's done it again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111257779697033214?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111257779697033214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111257779697033214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257779697033214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257779697033214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/irish-humor.html' title='Irish Humor'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111257681746534700</id><published>2005-03-17T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T18:06:57.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misplaced Me Cap</title><content type='html'>Patrick O'Leary showed up at Mass one Sunday morning and the priest almost fell down when he saw him. O'Leary had never been seen in church in his adult life. After Mass, the priest caught O'Leary and said, "Mr. O'Leary, I am so glad you decided to come to Mass. What made you come?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O'Leary said "I've got to be honest with you, Father. A while back, I misplaced me cap I really, really love that cap. I knew that Donald Shaunessy had one just like mine, and I knew that Shaunessy came to church every Sunday. I also knew that Shaunessy had to take his cap off during Mass, and I figured he would leave it in the back of church. So, I was going to leave after Communion and steal Shaunessy's cap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The priest said, "Well, Mr. O'Leary, I notice that you did not steal Mr. Shaunessy's cap. What changed your mind?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O'Leary said, "Well, after I heard your sermon on the Ten Commandments, I decided that I didn't need to steal Shaunessy's cap."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The priest gave O'Leary a big smile and said, "Ah, after I talked about 'Thou shalt not steal' you decided you would rather do without your cap than burn in hell, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O'Leary shook his head and said, "No father, after you talked about "Thou shalt not commit adultery", I remembered where I left me cap."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111257681746534700?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111257681746534700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111257681746534700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257681746534700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111257681746534700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/misplaced-me-cap.html' title='Misplaced Me Cap'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111256938685440976</id><published>2005-03-15T16:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T16:03:06.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Primary Care Physician</title><content type='html'>I recently picked a new primary care physician. After two visits and exhaustive lab tests, he said I was doing "fairly well" for my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little concerned about that comment, I couldn't resist asking him, "Do you think I'll live to be 85?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked, "Well, do you smoke tobacco or drink beer, wine or other alcoholic beverages?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no," I replied. "I've not doing any of those things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked, "Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "No, my other Doctor said that all red meat is very unhealthy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf, sailing, hiking, or bicycling?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I don't," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked, "Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of sex?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," I said. "I don't do any of those things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at me and said, "Then why do you give a shit if you live to be 85?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111256938685440976?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111256938685440976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111256938685440976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111256938685440976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111256938685440976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/new-primary-care-physician.html' title='New Primary Care Physician'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111075654174129564</id><published>2005-03-13T15:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T15:29:01.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rookie Trooper</title><content type='html'>Billy Graham was returning to Charlotte after a speaking engagement and when his plane arrived there was a limousine there to transport him to his home. As he prepared to get into the limo, he stopped and spoke to the driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know" he said, "I am 87 years old and I have never driven a limousine. Would you mind if I drove it for a while?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driver said, "No problem. Have at it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy gets into the driver's seat and they head off down the highway. A short distance away sat a rookie State Trooper operating his first speed trap. The long black limo went by him doing 70 in a 55 mph zone. The trooper pulled out and easily caught the limo and got out of his patrol car to begin the procedure. The young trooper walked up to the driver's door and when the glass was rolled down he was surprised to see who was driving. He immediately excused himself and went back to his car and called his supervisor. He told the supervisor, "I know we are supposed to enforce the law but I also know that important people are given certain courtesies. I need to know what I should do because I have stopped a very important person."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The supervisor asked, "Is it the governor?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young trooper said, "No, he's more important than that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The supervisor said, "Oh, so it's the president."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young trooper said, "Not, he's even more important than that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The supervisor finally asked, "Well then, who is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young trooper said, "I think it's Jesus because he's got Billy Graham for a chauffeur!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111075654174129564?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111075654174129564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111075654174129564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111075654174129564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111075654174129564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/rookie-trooper.html' title='The Rookie Trooper'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111035242987557731</id><published>2005-03-08T23:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T23:13:49.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mans Earring</title><content type='html'>A man is at work one day when he notices that his co-worker is wearing an ear ring. This man knows his co-worker to be a normally conservative fellow, and is curious about his sudden change in "fashion sense." The man walks up to him and says, "I didn't know you were into earrings."&lt;br /&gt;"Don't make such a big deal, it's only an earring,"he replies sheepishly."&lt;br /&gt;His friend falls silent for a few minutes, but then his curiosity prods him to say, "So, how long have you been wearing one?"&lt;br /&gt;"Ever since my wife found it in my truck."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111035242987557731?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111035242987557731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111035242987557731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111035242987557731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111035242987557731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/mans-earring.html' title='Mans Earring'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-111035217391545295</id><published>2005-03-08T23:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T23:09:33.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brooms</title><content type='html'>Two brooms were hanging in the closet and after a while they got to know each other so well, they decided to get married. One broom was, of course, the bride broom, the other the groom broom. The bride broom looked very beautiful in her white dress. The groom broom was handsome and suave in his tuxedo. The wedding was lovely. After the wedding, at the wedding dinner, the bride-broom leaned over and said to the groom-broom, "I think I am going to have a little whisk broom!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"IMPOSSIBLE !!" said the groom broom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you ready for this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brace yourself; this is going to hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WE HAVEN'T EVEN SWEPT TOGETHER!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-111035217391545295?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/111035217391545295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=111035217391545295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111035217391545295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/111035217391545295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/03/brooms.html' title='Brooms'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110983752182369610</id><published>2005-02-28T00:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T23:05:52.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>-February 2005: Favorite Selections-</title><content type='html'>Favorite Joke : "The New 2005 California State Employee Handbook, by Arnold Schwarzenegger"&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Link : "&lt;a href="http://www.christopherreeves.org/"&gt;Christopher Reeve Paralysis Foundation&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Comedian Site : "&lt;a href="http://www.brettbutler.com/default.htm"&gt;Brett Butler&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;Remember to submit your vote for next month!&lt;br /&gt;Send your e-mail to &lt;a href="mailto:Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz"&gt;Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110983752182369610?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110983752182369610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110983752182369610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110983752182369610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110983752182369610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/february-2005-favorite-selections.html' title='-February 2005: Favorite Selections-'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110913695709777077</id><published>2005-02-22T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T21:35:57.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Short Joke</title><content type='html'>A Three-year-old little boy was examining his testicles while taking a bath.&lt;br /&gt;"Mama," he asked, "Are these my brains?"&lt;br /&gt;Mama answered, "Not yet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110913695709777077?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110913695709777077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110913695709777077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913695709777077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913695709777077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/best-short-joke.html' title='Best Short Joke'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110913683234622072</id><published>2005-02-22T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T21:33:52.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Psycho Test</title><content type='html'>If you get this right, anyone near you better kill you!&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's one for you !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read this question, come up with an answer and then scroll down to the bottom for the result. This is not a trick question. It is as it reads. No One I know has gotten it right- - including me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman, while at the funeral of her own mother, met this guy whom she did not know. She thought this guy was amazing, so much her dream guy, she believed him to be just that! She fell in love with him right there, but never asked for his number and could not find him. A few days later she killed her sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: What is her motive in killing her sister?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Give this some thought before you answer).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCROLL DOWN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer: She was hoping that the guy would appear at the funeral again. If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath. This was created by a famous American Psychologist used to test if one has the same mentality as a killer. Many arrested serial killers took part in the test and answered the question correctly. If you didn't answer the question correctly, good for you. If you got the answer correct, please let me know so I can take you off of my email list, unless that will tick you off, then I'll just be extra nice to you from now on. Be sure to share the test!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110913683234622072?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110913683234622072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110913683234622072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913683234622072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913683234622072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/psycho-test.html' title='Psycho Test'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110913636313695941</id><published>2005-02-22T21:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T21:26:03.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How To Call A Policeman</title><content type='html'>George Phillips of Meridian Mississippi was going up to bed when his wife told him that he'd left the light on in the garden shed, which she could see from the bedroom window. George opened the back door to go turn off the light but saw that there were people in the shed stealing things. He phoned the police, who asked "Is someone in your house?" and he said no. Then they said that all patrols were busy, and that he should simply lock his door and an officer would be along when available. George said, "Okay," hung up, counted to 30, and phoned the police again. "Hello, I just called you a few seconds ago because there were people in my shed. Well, you don't have to worry about them now cause I've just shot them all." Then he hung up. Within five minutes three police cars, an Armed Response unit, and an ambulance showed up at the Phillips residence. Of course, the police caught the burglars red-handed. One of the Policemen said to George: "I thought you said that you'd shot them!" George said, "I thought you said there was nobody available!"&lt;br /&gt;(True Story) I LOVE IT...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110913636313695941?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110913636313695941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110913636313695941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913636313695941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913636313695941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/how-to-call-policeman.html' title='How To Call A Policeman'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110913600963519559</id><published>2005-02-22T21:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T21:20:09.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The New 2005 California State Employee Handbook, by Arnold Schwarzenegger</title><content type='html'>SICK DAYS: We will no longer accept a doctor's statement as proof of sickness. If you are able to go to the doctor, you are able to come to work.&lt;br /&gt;PERSONAL DAYS: Each employee will receive 104 personal days a year. They are called Saturday &amp;amp; Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;LUNCH BREAK: Skinny people get 30 minutes for lunch as they need to eat more, so that they can look healthy. Normal size people get 15 minutes for lunch to get balanced meal to maintain their average figure. Fat people get 5 minutes for lunch, because that's all the time needed to drink a Slim Fast.&lt;br /&gt;DRESS CODE: It is advised that you come to work dressed according to your salary. If we see you wearing $350 Prada sneakers, and carrying a $600 Gucci Bag, we assume you are doing well financially and therefore you do not need a raise. If you dress poorly, you need to learn to manage your money better, so that you may buy nicer clothes, and therefore you do not need a raise. If you dress in-between, you are right where you need to be and therefore you do not need a raise.&lt;br /&gt;BEREAVEMENT LEAVE: This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing you can do for dead friends, relatives, or co-workers. Every effort should be made to have no employees attend to the arrangements. In rare cases where employee involvement is necessary funeral should be schedule in the late afternoon. We will be glad to allow you to work through your lunch hour and subsequently leave that much earlier.&lt;br /&gt;RESTROOM USE: Entirely too much time is being spent in the restroom. There is now a strict 3 minute time limit in the stalls. At the end of three minutes, an alarm will sound, the toilet paper roll will retract, the stall door will open and a picture will be taken. After your second offense, your picture will be posted on the company bulletin board under "Chronic Offenders."&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your loyalty to our great state. We are here to provide a positive employment experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110913600963519559?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110913600963519559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110913600963519559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913600963519559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110913600963519559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/new-2005-california-state-employee.html' title='The New 2005 California State Employee Handbook, by Arnold Schwarzenegger'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110906220751111631</id><published>2005-02-22T00:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T00:50:07.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May I Have That Seat?</title><content type='html'>The train was quite crowded, so the U. S. Marine walked its entire length looking for a seat, but the only seat left was taken by a well-dressed middle-aged French woman's poodle. The war-weary Marine asked, "Ma'am, may I have that seat?" The French woman just sniffed and said to no one in particular, "Americans are so rude. My little Fifi is using that seat." The Marine walked the entire train again, but the only seat left was under that dog. "Please, ma'am. May I sit down? I'm very tired." She snorted, "Not only are you Americans rude, you are also arrogant!" This time the Marine didn't say a word, he just picked up the little dog, tossed it out the train window, and sat down. The woman shrieked, "Someone must defend my honor! Put this American in his place!" An English gentleman sitting nearby spoke up. "Sir, you Americans often seem to have a penchant for doing the wrong thing. You hold the fork in the wrong hand. You drive your autos on the wrong side of the road. And now, sir.........You've thrown the wrong bitch out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110906220751111631?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110906220751111631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110906220751111631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110906220751111631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110906220751111631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/may-i-have-that-seat.html' title='May I Have That Seat?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110906191702238637</id><published>2005-02-22T00:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T00:45:17.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Airline Pilots</title><content type='html'>Part of the airline's recent settlement with the unions was hiring handicapped people.&lt;br /&gt;The other day, passengers on a small commuter plane were waiting for the flight to leave. Two men walked up the aisle dressed in pilots' uniforms and both were wearing dark glasses. One pilot was using a seeing-eye dog, and the other was tapping his way up the aisle with a white cane.&lt;br /&gt;Nervous laughter spread through the cabin; but the men enter the cockpit, the door closes, and the engines start up. The passengers begin glancing nervously around, searching for some sign that this is just a little practical joke.&lt;br /&gt;None is forthcoming. The plane moves faster and faster down the runway, and people at the windows realize that they're headed straight for the water at the edge of the airport.&lt;br /&gt;As it begins to look as though the plane will never take off, that it will plow into the water, panicked screams fill the cabin.&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, the plane lifts smoothly into the air. The passengers relax and laugh a little sheepishly, and soon they have all retreated into their books and magazines, secure in the knowledge that the plane is in good hands.&lt;br /&gt;Up front in the cockpit, the co-pilot turns to the pilot and says, "You know,Bob, one of these days, they're going to scream too late, and we're all gonna die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110906191702238637?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110906191702238637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110906191702238637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110906191702238637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110906191702238637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/airline-pilots.html' title='Airline Pilots'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110906099793280972</id><published>2005-02-22T00:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T00:33:23.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las Vegas Worship</title><content type='html'>There are more churches in Las Vegas than Casinos. During Sunday services at the Offering, some worshipers contribute Casino Chips as opposed to cash. Some are sharing their winnings - some are hoping to win. Since there are so many Casinos, the Catholic churches send all the chips into the diocese for sorting. Once sorted for the respective casino the chips belong to, one junior priest takes the chips and makes the rounds to the casinos turning chips into cash.&lt;br /&gt;He is known as.........Are you ready?&lt;br /&gt;The CHIP-MONK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110906099793280972?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110906099793280972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110906099793280972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110906099793280972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110906099793280972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/las-vegas-worship.html' title='Las Vegas Worship'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110905909742989528</id><published>2005-02-21T23:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T23:58:17.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Rednecks Aren't Paramedics</title><content type='html'>A couple of rednecks are out in the woods hunting when one of them suddenly grabs his chest and 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 911.&lt;br /&gt;He gasps to the operator, "I think Bubba is dead! What should I do?"&lt;br /&gt;The operator, in a calm soothing voice says, "Just take it easy and follow my instructions. First, let's make sure he's dead."&lt;br /&gt;There's a silence ... And then a shot is heard.&lt;br /&gt;The guy's voice comes back on the line, "Okay, now what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110905909742989528?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110905909742989528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110905909742989528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110905909742989528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110905909742989528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/why-rednecks-arent-paramedics.html' title='Why Rednecks Aren&apos;t Paramedics'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110905755417318576</id><published>2005-02-21T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T23:32:34.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Picabo</title><content type='html'>We can't all have dull sounding names, so pay attention....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The famous Olympic skier Picabo Street (pronounced Peek-A-Boo) is not just an athlete.... She is now a nurse currently working at the Intensive Care Unit of a large metropolitan hospital. She is not permitted to answer the hospital telephones. It caused too much confusion when she would answer the phone and say . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picabo, ICU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110905755417318576?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110905755417318576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110905755417318576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110905755417318576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110905755417318576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/picabo.html' title='Picabo'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110888974939454407</id><published>2005-02-20T00:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T00:55:49.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Woman's Honesty</title><content type='html'>One day, when a seamstress was sewing while sitting close to a river, her thimble fell into the river.&lt;br /&gt;When she cried out, the Lord appeared and asked, "My dear child, why are you crying?"&lt;br /&gt;The seamstress replied that her thimble had fallen into the water and that she needed it to help her husband in making a living for their family.&lt;br /&gt;The Lord dipped His hand into the water and pulled up a golden thimble set with pearls.&lt;br /&gt;"Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked.&lt;br /&gt;The seamstress replied, "No."&lt;br /&gt;The Lord again dipped into the river. He held out a silver thimble ringed with sapphires. "Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked.&lt;br /&gt;Again, the seamstress replied,"No."&lt;br /&gt;The Lord reached down again and came up with a leather thimble. "Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked.&lt;br /&gt;The seamstress replied, "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;The Lord was pleased with the woman's honesty and gave her all three thimbles to keep, and the seamstress went home happy.&lt;br /&gt;Some years later, the seamstress was walking with her husband along the riverbank, and her husband fell into the river and disappeared under the water.&lt;br /&gt;When she cried out, the Lord again appeared and asked her, "Why are you crying?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Lord, my husband has fallen into the river!"&lt;br /&gt;The Lord went down into the water and came up with Mel Gibson.&lt;br /&gt;"Is this your husband?" the Lord asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," cried the seamstress.&lt;br /&gt;The Lord was furious. "You lied! That is an untruth!"&lt;br /&gt;The seamstress replied, "Oh, forgive me, my Lord. It is a misunderstanding. You see, if I had said 'no' to Mel Gibson, you would have come up with Tom Cruise. Then if I said 'no' to him, you would have come up with my husband. Had I then said 'yes,' you would have given me all three. Lord, I'm not in the best of health and would not be able to take care of all three husbands, so THAT'S why I said 'yes' to Mel Gibson."&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is: Whenever a woman lies, it's for a good and honorable reason, and in the best interest of others.&lt;br /&gt;That's our story and we're sticking to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110888974939454407?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110888974939454407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110888974939454407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888974939454407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888974939454407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/womans-honesty.html' title='A Woman&apos;s Honesty'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110888913077943930</id><published>2005-02-20T00:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T00:45:30.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Old Is Grandma?</title><content type='html'>Stay with this -- the answer is at the end -- it will blow you away.&lt;br /&gt;One evening a grandson was talking to his grandmother about current events. The grandson asked his grandmother what she thought about the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.&lt;br /&gt;The Grandma replied, "Well, let me think a minute, I was born, before television, penicillin, polio shots, frozen foods, Xerox, contact lenses, Frisbees and the pill. There was no radar, credit cards, laser beams or ball-point pens. Man had not invented pantyhose, air conditioners, dishwashers, clothes dryers, and the clothes were hung out to dry in the fresh air and man hadn't yet walked on the moon. Your Grandfather and I got married first-and then lived together. Every family had a father and a mother. Until I was 25, I called every man older than I, 'Sir'- and after I turned 25, I still called policemen and every man with a title, "Sir."&lt;br /&gt;We were before gay-rights, computer- dating, dual careers, daycare centers, and group therapy. Our lives were governed by the Ten Commandments, good judgment, and common sense. We were taught to know the difference between right and wrong and to stand up and take responsibility for our actions. Serving your country was a privilege; living in this country was a bigger privilege. We thought fast food was what people ate during Lent. Having a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins. Draft dodgers were people who closed their front doors when the evening breeze started. Time-sharing meant time the family spent together in the evenings and weekends-not purchasing condominiums.&lt;br /&gt;We never heard of FM radios, tape decks, CDs, electric typewriters, yogurt, or guys wearing earrings. We listened to the Big Bands, Jack Benny, and the President's speeches on our radios. And I don't ever remember any kid blowing his brains out listening to Tommy Dorsey.&lt;br /&gt;If you saw anything with 'Made in Japan ' on it, it was junk. The term 'making out' referred to how you did on your school exam. Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and instant coffee were unheard of.&lt;br /&gt;We had 5 &amp;amp;10-cent stores where you could actually buy things for 5 and 10 cents. Ice-cream cones, phone calls, rides on a streetcar, and a Pepsi were all a nickel. And if you didn't want to splurge, you could spend your nickel on enough stamps to mail 1 letter and 2 postcards.&lt;br /&gt;You could buy a new Chevy Coupe for $600 but who could afford one? Too bad, because gas was 11 cents a gallon. In my day, "grass" was mowed, "coke" was a cold drink, "pot" was something your mother cooked in, and "rock music" was your grandmother's lullaby. "Aids" were helpers in the Principal's office," chip" meant a piece of wood, "hardware" was found in a hardware store, and "software" wasn't even a word.&lt;br /&gt;And we were the last generation to actually believe that a lady needed a husband to have a baby. No wonder people call us "old and confused" and say there is a generation gap.....and how old do you think I am ???.....&lt;br /&gt;I bet you have this old lady in mind...&lt;br /&gt;you are in for a shock!&lt;br /&gt;Read on to see -- pretty scary if you think about it and pretty sad at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;This Woman would be only 58 years old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110888913077943930?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110888913077943930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110888913077943930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888913077943930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888913077943930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/how-old-is-grandma.html' title='How Old Is Grandma?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110888833105557185</id><published>2005-02-20T00:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T00:32:11.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Men</title><content type='html'>1. WHY DO MEN BECOME SMARTER DURING SEX?&lt;br /&gt;(because they are plugged into a genius)&lt;br /&gt;2. WHY DON'T WOMEN BLINK DURING SEX?&lt;br /&gt;(they don't have enough time)&lt;br /&gt;3. WHY DOES IT TAKE 1 MILLION SPERM TO FERTILIZE ONE EGG?&lt;br /&gt;(they don't stop to ask directions)&lt;br /&gt;4. WHY DO MEN SNORE WHEN THEY LIE ON THEIR BACKS?&lt;br /&gt;(because their balls fall over their butts and they vapor lock)&lt;br /&gt;You're laughing, aren't you?!?!&lt;br /&gt;5. WHY WERE MEN GIVEN LARGER BRAINS THAN DOGS?&lt;br /&gt;(so they won't hump women's legs at cocktails parties)&lt;br /&gt;6. WHY DID GOD MAKE MEN BEFORE WOMEN?&lt;br /&gt;(you need a rough draft before you make a final copy)&lt;br /&gt;7. HOW MANY MEN DOES IT TAKE TO PUT A TOILET SEAT DOWN?&lt;br /&gt;(don't know.....It never happened)&lt;br /&gt;C'mon, we laugh at your blonde jokes!&lt;br /&gt;8. WHY DID GOD PUT MEN ON EARTH?&lt;br /&gt;(because a vibrator can't mow the lawn)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110888833105557185?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110888833105557185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110888833105557185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888833105557185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888833105557185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/men.html' title='Men'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110888694492579603</id><published>2005-02-20T00:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T00:09:04.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Thinking Senior in Florida</title><content type='html'>An elderly man in Florida had owned a large farm for several years.  He had a large pond in the back, fixed up nice  --  picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some orange and grapefruit trees.  The pond was properly shaped and fixed up for swimming when it was built. One evening the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn't been there for a while and look it over. He grabbed a five gallon bucket to bring back some fruit.  As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing with glee. As he came closer he saw it was a bunch of young women skinny-dipping in his pond.  He made the women aware of his presence and they all went to the deep end. One of the women shouted to him, "We're not coming out until you leave!" The old man frowned, "I didn't come down here to watch you ladies swim naked or make you get out of the pond naked."  Holding the bucket up he  said,  "I'm here to feed the alligator."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110888694492579603?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110888694492579603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110888694492579603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888694492579603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110888694492579603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/thinking-senior-in-florida.html' title='A Thinking Senior in Florida'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110766571463047506</id><published>2005-02-05T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-05T20:55:14.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things That Make You Go Hmmmmmm</title><content type='html'>Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are dead?&lt;br /&gt;Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there is not enough to pay it?&lt;br /&gt;Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't glue stick to the bottle?&lt;br /&gt;Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection?&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?&lt;br /&gt;If you send someone 'Styrofoam', how do you pack it?&lt;br /&gt;If the temperature is zero outside today and it's going to be twice as cold tomorrow, how cold will it be?&lt;br /&gt;If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?&lt;br /&gt;If it's true that we are here to help others, what are the others doing here?&lt;br /&gt;Do married people live longer than single ones or does it only seem longer?&lt;br /&gt;If someone with a split personality threatens to commit suicide, is it a hostage situation?&lt;br /&gt;Can you cry under water?&lt;br /&gt;What level of importance must a person have before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?&lt;br /&gt;If money doesn't grow on trees then why do banks have branches?&lt;br /&gt;Why does a round pizza come in a square box?&lt;br /&gt;How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on bigger suitcases?&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up every two hours?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?&lt;br /&gt;Why do doctors, when they ask you to strip, leave the room or close the cubicle curtain while you change?&lt;br /&gt;....They're still going to see you naked anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110766571463047506?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110766571463047506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110766571463047506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110766571463047506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110766571463047506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/things-that-make-you-go-hmmmmmm.html' title='Things That Make You Go Hmmmmmm'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110766487111030672</id><published>2005-02-05T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-05T20:41:11.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drug Problem?</title><content type='html'>The other day, someone at a store in a small town read that a methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farm house in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question, "Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him "I did have a drug problem when I was a kid growing up":&lt;br /&gt;I was drug to church on Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;I was drug to church for weddings and funerals.&lt;br /&gt;I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.&lt;br /&gt;I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults.&lt;br /&gt;I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher. Or if I didn't put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110766487111030672?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110766487111030672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110766487111030672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110766487111030672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110766487111030672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/drug-problem.html' title='Drug Problem?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110766279443972988</id><published>2005-02-05T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-05T20:06:34.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Computer Illiterates</title><content type='html'>Take heart, anyone among you who believes he or she is technologically challenged, you "ain't seen nuthin yet". This is an excerpt from a Wall Street Journal article:&lt;br /&gt;1. Compaq is considering changing the command "Press Any Key" to "Press Return Key" because of the flood of calls asking where the "Any" key is.&lt;br /&gt;2. AST technical support had a caller complaining that her mouse was hard to control with the dust cover on. The cover turned out to be the plastic bag the mouse was packaged in.&lt;br /&gt;3. A Dell customer called to say he couldn't get his computer to fax anything. After 40 minutes of troubleshooting, the technician discovered the man was trying to fax a piece of paper by holding it in front of the monitor screen and hitting the "Send" key.&lt;br /&gt;4. A Dell customer called to complain that his keyboard no longer worked. He had cleaned it by filling up his bathtub with soap and water and soaking the keyboard for a day, then removing all the keys and washing them individually.&lt;br /&gt;5. A Dell technician received a call from a customer who was enraged because his computer had told him he was "Bad and an invalid." The tech explained that the computer's "bad command" and "invalid" responses shouldn't be taken personally.&lt;br /&gt;6. A confused caller to IBM was having trouble printing documents. He told the technician that the computer had said it "couldn't find the printer." The user had also tried turning the computer screen to face the printer-but that his computer still couldn't "see" the printer.&lt;br /&gt;7. An exasperated caller to Dell Computer Tech Support couldn't get her new Dell Computer to turn on. After ensuring the computer was plugged in, the technician asked her what happened when she pushed the power button. Her response, "I pushed and pushed on this foot pedal and nothing happened." The "foot pedal" turned out to be the computer's mouse...&lt;br /&gt;8. Another customer called Compaq tech support to say her brand new computer wouldn't work. She said she unpacked the unit, plugged it in and sat there for 20 minutes waiting for something to happen. When asked what happened when she pressed the power switch, she asked, "What power switch?"&lt;br /&gt;9. An IBM customer had trouble installing software and rang for support. "I put in the first disk, and that was OK. It said to put in the second disk, and had some problems with the disk. When it said to put in the third disk, I couldn't even fit it in. " The user hadn't realized that "Insert Disk 2" implied removing Disk 1 first.&lt;br /&gt;10. A story from a Novell Net Ware Sys Op:&lt;br /&gt;CALLER: "Hello, is this TechSupport?"&lt;br /&gt;TECH: "Yes, it is. How may I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;CALLER: "The cupholder on my PC is broken -and I am within my warranty period. How do I go about getting that fixed?"&lt;br /&gt;TECH: "I'm sorry, but did you say a cup holder?"&lt;br /&gt;CALLER: "Yes, it's attached to the front of my computer."&lt;br /&gt;TECH: "Please excuse me. If I seem a bit stumped, it's because I am. Did you receive this as part of a promotion at a trade show? How did you get this cup holder? Does it have any trademark on it?"&lt;br /&gt;CALLER: "It came with my computer. I don't know anything about a promotional. It just has '4X' on it." At this point, the Tech Rep had to mute the caller because he couldn't stand it. He was laughing too hard. The caller had been using the load drawer of the CD-ROM drive as a cup holder and it had snapped it off the drive.&lt;br /&gt;11. A woman called the Canon help desk with a problem with her printer. The tech asked her if she was "running it under windows." The woman responded, "No, my desk is next to the door. But that is a good point. The man sitting in the cubicle next to me is under a window and his printer is working fine."&lt;br /&gt;12. And last but not least:&lt;br /&gt;TECH SUPPORT: "O.K. Bob, let's press the control and escape keys at the same time. That brings up a task list in the middle of the screen. Now type the letter "P" to bring up the Program Manager."&lt;br /&gt;CUSTOMER: "I don't have a "P".&lt;br /&gt;TECH SUPPORT: "On your keyboard, Bob."&lt;br /&gt;CUSTOMER: "What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;TECH SUPPORT: " 'P' on your keyboard, Bob."&lt;br /&gt;CUSTOMER: "I'm not going to do that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110766279443972988?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110766279443972988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110766279443972988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110766279443972988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110766279443972988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/02/computer-illiterates.html' title='Computer Illiterates'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110724289463330975</id><published>2005-01-31T23:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T00:36:00.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>-January 2005: Favorite Selections-</title><content type='html'>Favorite Joke : &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"Tractor Gets Paid Off First!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Link : "&lt;a href="http://www.hellofriend.org/"&gt;The Hello Friend/Ennis William Cosby Foundation&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Comedian Site : "&lt;a href="http://www.busterkeaton.com/"&gt;Buster Keaton&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember to submit your vote for next month!&lt;br /&gt;Send your e-mail to &lt;a href="mailto:Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz"&gt;Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110724289463330975?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110724289463330975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110724289463330975' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110724289463330975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110724289463330975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/january-2005-favorite-selections.html' title='-January 2005: Favorite Selections-'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110559310172215556</id><published>2005-01-12T20:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T21:11:41.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Truisms From Maxine</title><content type='html'>People who live in glass houses should make love in the basement.&lt;br /&gt;Never read the fine print. There ain't no way you're going to like it.&lt;br /&gt;If you let a smile be your umbrella, then most likely your butt will get soaking wet.&lt;br /&gt;The only two things we do with greater frequency in middle age are urinate and attend funerals.&lt;br /&gt;The trouble with bucket seats is that not everybody has the same size bucket.&lt;br /&gt;To err is human, to forgive - highly unlikely.&lt;br /&gt;Do you realize that in about 40 years, we'll have thousands of old ladies running around with tattoos?&lt;br /&gt;Money can't buy happiness -- but somehow it's more comfortable to cry in a Porsche than in a Hyundai.&lt;br /&gt;Drinking makes some husbands see double and feel single.&lt;br /&gt;Living in a nudist colony takes all the fun out of Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;After a certain age, if you don't wake up aching in every joint, you are probably dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110559310172215556?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110559310172215556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110559310172215556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110559310172215556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110559310172215556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/truisms-from-maxine.html' title='Truisms From Maxine'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110558864274670878</id><published>2005-01-12T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T19:57:22.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde Joke</title><content type='html'>A Blonde enters a store that sells curtains. She tells the salesman, "I would like to buy a pair of pink curtains." The salesman assures her that they have a large selection of pink curtains. He shows her several patterns, but the blonde seems to be having a hard time choosing. Finally she selects a lovely pink floral print. The salesman then asks what size curtains she needs. The blonde promptly replies, "fifteen inches". "Fifteen inches???" asked the salesman. "That sounds very small, what room are they for?" The blonde tells him that they aren't for a room, they are for her computer monitor. The surprised salesman replies, "but Miss, computers do not need curtains!" The blonde says, "Hellllooooooooo ... I've got Windoooooows!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110558864274670878?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110558864274670878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110558864274670878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110558864274670878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110558864274670878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/blonde-joke.html' title='Blonde Joke'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110543104789189152</id><published>2005-01-11T01:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T21:13:01.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tim Allen on Martha Stewart</title><content type='html'>Tim Allen, comedian, had this to say about Martha Stewart. "Boy, I feel safer now that she is behind bars... O.J. and Kobe are walking around--but they take the ONE woman in America willing to cook, clean and work in the yard and haul her ass off to jail." What a country!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110543104789189152?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110543104789189152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110543104789189152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110543104789189152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110543104789189152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/tim-allen-on-martha-stewart.html' title='Tim Allen on Martha Stewart'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110542803458439193</id><published>2005-01-10T23:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T23:20:34.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating</title><content type='html'>A young girl was going on a date. Her grandmother said: "Sit here and let me tell you about those young boys. He is going to try and kiss you, you are going to like that, but don't let him do that. He is going to try and feel your breasts, you are going to like that, but don't let him do that. But most important, he is going to try and get on top of you to have his way with you. You are going to like that, but don't let him do that. It will disgrace the family."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that bit of advice, the granddaughter went on her date. The next day she told grandma that her date went just like she had predicted. "Grandma, I didn't let him disgrace the family. When he tried, I just turned over, got on top of him, and disgraced his family!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110542803458439193?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110542803458439193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110542803458439193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110542803458439193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110542803458439193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/dating.html' title='Dating'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110542691405508079</id><published>2005-01-10T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T23:01:54.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Wine</title><content type='html'>California vintners in the Napa Valley area, which primarily produces Pinot Blanc, Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio wines, have developed a new hybrid grape that acts as an anti-diuretic. It is expected to reduce the number of trips older people have to make to the bathroom during the night. The new wine will be marketed as Pino More.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110542691405508079?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110542691405508079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110542691405508079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110542691405508079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110542691405508079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/senior-wine.html' title='Senior Wine'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110532177446564836</id><published>2005-01-09T17:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T19:15:42.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs Seen Around the World</title><content type='html'>Cocktail lounge, Norway:&lt;br /&gt;LADIES ARE REQUESTED NOT TO HAVE CHILDREN IN THE BAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a Budapest zoo:&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS. IF YOU HAVE ANY SUITABLE FOOD, GIVE IT TO THE GUARD ON DUTY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctors office, Rome:&lt;br /&gt;SPECIALIST IN WOMEN AND OTHER DISEASES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hotel, Acapulco:&lt;br /&gt;THE MANAGER HAS PERSONALLY PASSED ALL THE WATER SERVED HERE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a Nairobi restaurant:&lt;br /&gt;CUSTOMERS WHO FIND OUR WAITRESSES RUDE, OUGHT TO SEE THE MANAGER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On an Athi River highway:&lt;br /&gt;TAKE NOTICE: WHEN THIS SIGN IS UNDER WATER, THIS ROAD IS IMPASSABLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a poster at Kencom:&lt;br /&gt;ARE YOU AN ADULT THAT CANNOT READ? IF SO, WE CAN HELP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sign seen on an automatic restroom hand dryer:&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT ACTIVATE WITH WET HANDS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a Pumwani maternity ward:&lt;br /&gt;NO CHILDREN ALLOWED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a cemetery:&lt;br /&gt;PERSONS ARE PROHIBITED FROM PICKING FLOWERS FROM ANY, BUT THEIR OWN GRAVES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tokyo hotel's rules and regulations:&lt;br /&gt;GUESTS ARE REQUESTED NOT TO SMOKE OR DO OTHER DISGUSTING BEHAVIORS IN BED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hotel elevator, Paris:&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE LEAVE YOUR VALUES AT THE FRONT DESK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hotel, Yugoslavia:&lt;br /&gt;THE FLATTENING OF UNDERWEAR WITH PLEASURE, IS THE JOB OF THE CHAMBERMAID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hotel, Japan:&lt;br /&gt;YOU ARE INVITED TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE CHAMBERMAID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An advertisement by a Hong Kong dentist:&lt;br /&gt;TEETH EXTRACTED BY THE LATEST METHODISTS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A laundry in Rome:&lt;br /&gt;LADIES, LEAVE YOUR CLOTHES HERE AND SPEND THE AFTERNOON HAVING A GOOD TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tourist agency, Czechoslovakia:&lt;br /&gt;TAKE ONE OF OUR HORSE-DRIVEN CITY TOURS. WE GUARANTEE NO MISCARRIAGES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Airline ticket office, Copenhagen:&lt;br /&gt;WE TAKE YOUR BAGS AND SEND THEM IN ALL DIRECTIONS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110532177446564836?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110532177446564836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110532177446564836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110532177446564836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110532177446564836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/signs-seen-around-world.html' title='Signs Seen Around the World'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110532045167608484</id><published>2005-01-09T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T17:27:31.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Near Death Experience</title><content type='html'>A middle aged woman had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital. While on the operating table, she had a near death experience. Seeing God, she asked, "Is my time up?" God said, "No, you have another 43 years, 2 months and 8 days to live." Upon recovery, the woman decided to stay in the hospital and have a face lift, lipo suction, and the works. Since she had so much more time to live, she figured she might as well look even nicer. After her last operation, she was released from the hospital. While crossing the street on her way home, she was hit and killed by an ambulance. Arriving in front of God, she demanded, "I thought you said I had another 40 years? Why didn't you pull me out of the path of the ambulance?" God replied, "Girrlllllll, I didn't even recognize you!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110532045167608484?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110532045167608484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110532045167608484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110532045167608484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110532045167608484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/near-death-experience.html' title='Near Death Experience'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110522624684665175</id><published>2005-01-08T15:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T15:17:26.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bird Nest Question on Quiz Show</title><content type='html'>A contestant on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" had reached the final plateau. If she answers the next question correctly, she will win $1,000,000. If she answers incorrectly, she will pocket only $32,000 milestone money. But the million-dollar question was no push over. It was, "Which of the following species of birds does not build its own nest, but instead lays its eggs in the nests of other birds? Her choices were: A) the condor B) the buzzard C) the cuckoo D) the vulture&lt;br /&gt;Not only does she not have a clue, she was doubly on the spot because she had used up her 50/50 Lifeline and her Audience Poll Lifeline. All that remained was her Phone-a-Friend Lifeline, and the contestant had hoped against hope that she would not have to use it, mainly because the only friend that she knew would be home was a blonde. But she had no alternative, so she called her friend and gave her the question and the four choices. Her blonde friend responded unhesitatingly: "That's easy. The answer is: The cuckoo." The contestant had to make a decision and make it fast. I need an answer," said Regis. Crossing her fingers, the contestant said, "C: The cuckoo."&lt;br /&gt;"Is that your final answer?" asked Regis.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that is my final answer."&lt;br /&gt;Regis said, " That answer is absolutely correct. You are now a millionaire!"&lt;br /&gt;Three days later, the contestant hosted a party for her family and friends including the blonde who had helped her win the million dollars.&lt;br /&gt;"Jenny, I just do not know how to thank you," said the contestant. "Because of your knowing the answer to that final question, I am now a millionaire. By the way, how did you happen to know the right answer?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, come on," said the blonde. "Everybody knows that cuckoos don't build nests. They live in clocks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110522624684665175?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110522624684665175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110522624684665175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110522624684665175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110522624684665175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/bird-nest-question-on-quiz-show.html' title='Bird Nest Question on Quiz Show'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110499398031565752</id><published>2005-01-05T22:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T22:46:20.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Short Jokes</title><content type='html'>Some old, some new. Last one is great!!&lt;br /&gt;A very elderly gentleman, (mid nineties) very well dressed, hair well groomed, great looking suit, flower in his lapel smelling slightly of a good after shave, presenting a well looked after image, walks into an upscale cocktail lounge. Seated at the bar is an elderly looking lady, (mid&gt; &gt; &gt; eighties). The gentleman walks over, sits along side of her, orders a drink, takes a sip, turns to her and says, "So tell me, do I come here often?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;**************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly gentleman had serious hearing problems for a number of years. He went to the doctor and the doctor was able to have him fitted for a set of hearing aids that allowed the gentleman to hear 100%. The elderly gentleman went back in a month to the doctor and the doctor said, "Your hearing is perfect. Your family must be really pleased that you can hear again." The gentleman replied, "Oh, I haven't told my family yet. I just sit around and listen to the conversations. I've changed my will three times!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;**************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two elderly gentlemen from a retirement center were sitting on a bench under a tree when one turns to the other and says... "Slim, I'm 83 years old now and I'm just full of aches and pains. I know you' re about my age. How do you feel?" Slim says, "I feel just like a new-born baby." "Really!? Like a new-born baby!?" "Yep. No hair, no teeth, and I think I just wet my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;***************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly couple had dinner at another couple's house, and after eating, the wives left the table and went into the kitchen. The two gentlemen were talking, and one said, "Last night we went out to a new restaurant and it was really great. I would recommend it very highly." The other man said, "What is the name of the restaurant?" The first man thought and thought and finally said, "What is the name of that flower you give to someone you love? You know... The one that's red and has thorns." "Do you mean a rose?" "Yes, that's the one," replied the man. He then turned towards the kitchen and yelled, "Rose, what's the name of that restaurant we went to last night?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;****************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hospital regulations require a wheelchair for patients being discharged. However, while working as a student nurse, I found one elderly gentleman--already dressed and sitting on the bed with a suitcase at his feet--who insisted he didn't need my help to leave the hospital. After a chat about rules being rules, he reluctantly let me wheel him to the elevator. On the way down I asked him if his wife was meeting him. "I don't know," he said. "She's still upstairs in the bathroom changing out of her hospital gown."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110499398031565752?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110499398031565752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110499398031565752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110499398031565752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110499398031565752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/senior-short-jokes.html' title='Senior Short Jokes'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110499257369033342</id><published>2005-01-05T22:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T22:22:53.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seniors Rock!</title><content type='html'>We went to breakfast at a restaurant where the "seniors special" was two eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast for $1.99. "Sounds good," my wife said. "But I don't want the eggs." "Then I'll have to charge you two dollars and forty-nine cents because you're ordering a la carte," the waitress warned her. "You mean I'd have to pay for not taking the eggs?" My wife asked incredulously. "I'll take the special." "How do you want your eggs?" "Raw and in the shell" my wife replied. She took the two eggs home. DON'T MESS WITH SENIORS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110499257369033342?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110499257369033342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110499257369033342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110499257369033342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110499257369033342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/seniors-rock.html' title='Seniors Rock!'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110499100982664002</id><published>2005-01-05T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T21:56:49.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tractor Gets Paid Off First!</title><content type='html'>A farmer has three sons. One day, his oldest boy comes to him and pleads with him that he is graduating from school and would really like to get a car. His father says, "Son, come with me." He takes him to the barn and points to the farm tractor and says, "That tractor is needed here on the farm and I promise that as soon as it's paid for, we'll get you a car." The boy was not too happy but he did understand the situation and said, Okay, Dad." A week later, his second son (10 years old) approaches him wanting a new two-wheel bicycle. Well, he gets the same excuse . . . "As soon as that tractor is paid for . . ." Shortly, a few days later, son number 3, his youngest, comes bugging him for a tricycle. Again, 'ol Dad gives him the lecture about the tractor being paid for first. While leaving the barn, the young boy, more than a little disgusted with the whole thing, sees a rooster mating with one of the hens and promptly goes over and kicks the rooster smooth off the hen's back, mumbling to himself the whole time. His dad says, "Son, why on earth would you do something like that? He didn't do anything to you to deserve that!" The little boy looks Dad right square in the eye and says, "Hey, nobody rides anything around here until that damn tractor is paid for." &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110499100982664002?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110499100982664002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110499100982664002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110499100982664002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110499100982664002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2005/01/tractor-gets-paid-off-first.html' title='Tractor Gets Paid Off First!'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110455586539670614</id><published>2004-12-31T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T17:06:47.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>-December 2004: Favorite Selections-</title><content type='html'>Favorite Joke : &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"Santa Claus - The Real Story"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Link : "&lt;a href="http://www.heavenlysweets.com/dianewinters/"&gt;Holiday Treats&lt;/a&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Comedian Site : "&lt;a href="http://www.bobhope.com/"&gt;Bob Hope&lt;/a&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember to submit your vote for next month!&lt;br /&gt;Send your e-mail to &lt;a href="mailto:Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz"&gt;Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Happy New Year Everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110455586539670614?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110455586539670614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110455586539670614' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110455586539670614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110455586539670614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/december-2004-favorite-selections.html' title='-December 2004: Favorite Selections-'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110379615010897398</id><published>2004-12-23T02:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T02:02:30.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Christmas Tale</title><content type='html'>The teacher was very curious about how each of her students celebrated Christmas Eve. "Tell me Patrick O'Riley, what do you do on Christmas Eve?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick addressed the class."Well Miss, me and my twelve brothers and sisters go to midnight Mass and we sing hymns, then we come home very late and we put mince pies by the back door and hang up our stockings. Then all excited we go to bed and wait for Father Christmas to come with all our toys."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very nice Patrick, now Jimmy Brown, what do you do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well Miss, me and my sister go to Church with Mum and Dad and we sing carols and we get home ever so late. We put cookies and milk by the chimney and we hang up our stockings. We hardly sleep waiting for Santa Claus to bring our presents."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remembering there was a Jewish boy in the class and not wanting to leave him out of the discussion, she asked, "Now Isaac Cohen, what do you do on Christmas Eve?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well Miss, it's the same old thing every year. Dad comes home from the office. We all pile into the Rolls and drive to his toy factory. When we get inside we look at all the empty shelves and sing "What a friend we have in Jesus". Then we go to the Bahamas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110379615010897398?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110379615010897398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110379615010897398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379615010897398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379615010897398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas-tale.html' title='A Christmas Tale'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110379585589115818</id><published>2004-12-23T01:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T02:04:59.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember This At Christmas Time</title><content type='html'>According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December. Female reindeer retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, according to EVERY historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, EVERY single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should've known... ONLY women would be able to drag a fat-ass man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110379585589115818?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110379585589115818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110379585589115818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379585589115818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379585589115818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/remember-this-at-christmas-time.html' title='Remember This At Christmas Time'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110379569191911468</id><published>2004-12-23T01:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T01:54:51.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa Claus - The Real Story</title><content type='html'>I remember my first Christmas party with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites I told her everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was ready for me. "No, Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second cinnamon bun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobbie Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobbie Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobbie Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobbie Decker a coat. I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," I replied shyly. "It's ... For Bobbie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas. That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Bobbie, From Santa Claus" on it -- Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobbie Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobbie's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobbie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my grandma, in Bobbie Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110379569191911468?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110379569191911468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110379569191911468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379569191911468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379569191911468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/santa-claus-real-story.html' title='Santa Claus - The Real Story'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110379151707134165</id><published>2004-12-22T23:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T00:45:17.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas To My Female Friends</title><content type='html'>If I were ol' Santa, you know what I'd do?&lt;br /&gt;I'd dump silly gifts that are given to you&lt;br /&gt;And deliver some things just inside your front door&lt;br /&gt;Things you have lost, but treasured before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd give you back all your maidenly vigor,&lt;br /&gt;and to go along with it, a neat tiny figure.&lt;br /&gt;Then restore the old color that once graced your hair&lt;br /&gt;before rinses and bleaches took residence there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd bring back the shape with which you were gifted&lt;br /&gt;so things now suspended need not be uplifted.&lt;br /&gt;I'd draw in your tummy and smooth down your back&lt;br /&gt;Till you'd be a dream in those tight fitting slacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd remove all your wrinkles and leave only one chin,&lt;br /&gt;So you wouldn't spend hours rubbing grease on your skin,&lt;br /&gt;You'd never have flashes or queer dizzy spells,&lt;br /&gt;and you wouldn't hear noises like ringing of bells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sore aching feet and no corns on your toes&lt;br /&gt;no searching for spectacles, when they're right on your nose.&lt;br /&gt;Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or Fanny&lt;br /&gt;from a doctor who thinks you're a nervous old granny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd never have a headache, so no pills would you take,&lt;br /&gt;And no heating pad needed since your muscles won't ache.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, if I were Santa, you'd never look stupid,&lt;br /&gt;You'd be a cute little chick with the romance of a Cupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle,&lt;br /&gt;And the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle.&lt;br /&gt;But alas! I'm not Santa. I'm simply just me,&lt;br /&gt;the matronest of matrons you ever did see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I've got,&lt;br /&gt;But I'm due at my doctor's for an estrogen shot.&lt;br /&gt;Even though we've grown older this wish is sincere,&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110379151707134165?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110379151707134165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110379151707134165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379151707134165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110379151707134165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/merry-christmas-to-my-female-friends.html' title='Merry Christmas To My Female Friends'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110378875173404335</id><published>2004-12-22T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T23:59:11.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Budget Christmas Gift</title><content type='html'>Let me know your sizes. Christmas is tight this year. I've learned to make bedroom slippers out of maxi pads: You need four maxis to make a pair. Two of them get laid out flat, for the foot part. The other two wrap around the toe area to form the top. Tape or glue each side of the top pieces to the bottom of the foot part. Decorate the tops with whatever you desire, silk flowers, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These slippers are soft and Hygienic; Non-slip grip strips on the soles; Built in deodorant feature keeps feet smelling fresh; No more bending over to mop up spills; Disposable and biodegradable; Environmentally safe; Three convenient sizes: Regular, Light day, and Get out the Sand Bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiest of holidays........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110378875173404335?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110378875173404335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110378875173404335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110378875173404335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110378875173404335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/budget-christmas-gift.html' title='Budget Christmas Gift'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110378839671710523</id><published>2004-12-22T23:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T23:53:16.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Eating Tips</title><content type='html'>1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.&lt;br /&gt;2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like fine single-malt scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-aholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.&lt;br /&gt;4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.&lt;br /&gt;5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?&lt;br /&gt;6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.&lt;br /&gt;7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.&lt;br /&gt;8. Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?&lt;br /&gt;9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.&lt;br /&gt;10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;Remember this motto to live by: "Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, what a ride!"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110378839671710523?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110378839671710523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110378839671710523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110378839671710523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110378839671710523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/holiday-eating-tips.html' title='Holiday Eating Tips'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110224513081933674</id><published>2004-12-05T03:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T03:12:10.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wal-Mart Humor</title><content type='html'>15 Things to do at Wal-Mart while your spouse/partner is taking their sweet time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Get 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in peoples carts when they aren't looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Make a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the rest rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Walk up to an employee and tell him/her in an official tone, "Code 3, in housewares" ..... And see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Go the Service Desk and ask to put a bag of M&amp;M's on lay away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Move a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Set up a tent in the camping department and tell other shoppers you'll invite them in if they'll bring pillows from the bedding department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. When a clerk asks if they can help you, begin to cry and ask "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Look right into the security camera; use it as a mirror, and pick your nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. While handling guns in the hunting department, ask the clerk if he knows where the anti- depressants are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Dart around the store suspiciously loudly humming the 'MISSION IMPOSSIBLE' theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. In the auto department, practice your 'MADONNA LOOK' using different size funnels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Hide in a clothing rack and when people browse through, say, "PICK ME!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. When an announcement comes over the loud speaker, assume the fetal position and scream "NO! NO! It's those voices again!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( And; last, but NOT LEAST !!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Go into a fitting room and shut the door and wait a while; and, then, yell, VERY LOUDLY, "THERE'S NO TOILET PAPER IN HERE !!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110224513081933674?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110224513081933674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110224513081933674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224513081933674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224513081933674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/wal-mart-humor_05.html' title='Wal-Mart Humor'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110224458562152389</id><published>2004-12-05T02:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T03:03:05.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Colored or White?</title><content type='html'>This was written by a guy, who happens to be black, living in Texas, and it is funny.&lt;br /&gt;What a great sense of humor and creativity!&lt;br /&gt;When I was born, I was black,&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up, I was black,&lt;br /&gt;When I would go in the sun, I was black,&lt;br /&gt;When I was cold, I stayed black,&lt;br /&gt;When I was scared, I stayed black,&lt;br /&gt;When I was sick, I stayed black,&lt;br /&gt;and when I die, I will still be black.&lt;br /&gt;You white folks........&lt;br /&gt;When u born, u pink,&lt;br /&gt;When u grow up, u white,&lt;br /&gt;When u go in the sun, u red,&lt;br /&gt;When u cold, u blue,&lt;br /&gt;When u scared, u yellow,&lt;br /&gt;When u sick, u green,&lt;br /&gt;When u bruised, u purple,&lt;br /&gt;and when u die, u grey,&lt;br /&gt;So who u callin' colored folk's???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110224458562152389?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110224458562152389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110224458562152389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224458562152389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224458562152389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/colored-or-white.html' title='Colored or White?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110224387541533807</id><published>2004-12-05T02:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T02:51:15.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>20,000 Leagues Under The Sea</title><content type='html'>Our five-year-old son Timmy couldn't wait to tell his friend about the movie we had watched on television, "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea." The scenes with the submarine and the giant octopus had kept him wide-eyed. In the middle of the telling, my husband interrupted Timmy, "What caused the submarine to sink?" With a look of incredulity Timmy replied, "Dad, it was the 20,000 leaks!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110224387541533807?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110224387541533807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110224387541533807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224387541533807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224387541533807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/20000-leagues-under-sea.html' title='20,000 Leagues Under The Sea'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110224373109888609</id><published>2004-12-05T02:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T02:48:51.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning Coffee</title><content type='html'>A grandmother was surprised by her 7 year old grandson one morning. He had made her coffee. She drank what was the worst cup of coffee in her life. When she got to the bottom, there were three of those little green army men in the cup. She said "Honey, what are these army men doing in my coffee?" Her grandson said, "Grandma, it says on TV, The best part of waking up is soldiers in your cup!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110224373109888609?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110224373109888609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110224373109888609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224373109888609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224373109888609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/morning-coffee.html' title='Morning Coffee'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110224360706672004</id><published>2004-12-05T02:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T02:46:47.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dalmatian Dog</title><content type='html'>A nursery school teacher was delivering a station wagon full of kids home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog's duties. "They use him to keep crowds back," said one youngster. "No," said another, "he's just for good luck." A third child brought the argument to a close.... "They use the dogs", she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrant!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110224360706672004?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110224360706672004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110224360706672004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224360706672004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224360706672004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/dalmatian-dog.html' title='Dalmatian Dog'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110224241234759081</id><published>2004-12-05T02:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T02:26:52.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>True or False?</title><content type='html'>Can you guess which of the following are true and which are false?&lt;br /&gt;1. Apples, not caffeine, are more efficient at waking you up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;2. Alfred Hitchcock didn't have a belly button.&lt;br /&gt;3. A pack-a-day smoker will lose approximately 2 teeth every 10 years.&lt;br /&gt;4. People do not get sick from cold weather; it's from being indoors a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;5. When you sneeze, all bodily functions stop, even your heart!&lt;br /&gt;6. Only 7 per cent of the population are lefties.&lt;br /&gt;7. Forty people are sent to the hospital for dog bites every minute.&lt;br /&gt;8. Babies are born without kneecaps. They don't appear until they are 2-6 years old.&lt;br /&gt;9. The average person over 50 will have spent 5 years waiting in lines.&lt;br /&gt;10. The toothbrush was invented in 1498.&lt;br /&gt;11. The average housefly lives for one month.&lt;br /&gt;12. 40,000 Americans are injured by toilets each year.&lt;br /&gt;13. A coat hanger is 44 inches long when straightened.&lt;br /&gt;14. The average computer user blinks 7 times a minute.&lt;br /&gt;15. Your feet are bigger in the afternoon than any other time of day.&lt;br /&gt;16. Most of us have eaten a spider in our sleep.&lt;br /&gt;17. The REAL reason ostriches stick their head in the sand is to search for water.&lt;br /&gt;18. The only two animals that can see behind themselves without turning their heads are the rabbit and the parrot.&lt;br /&gt;19. John Travolta turned down the starring roles in "An Officer and a Gentleman" and "Tootsie."&lt;br /&gt;20. Michael Jackson owns the rights to the South Carolina State anthem.&lt;br /&gt;21. In most television commercials advertising milk, a mixture of white paint and a little thinner is used in place of the milk.&lt;br /&gt;22. Prince Charles and Prince William NEVER travel on the same airplane, just in case there is a crash.&lt;br /&gt;23. The first Harley Davidson motorcycle built in 1903 used a tomato can for a carburetor.&lt;br /&gt;24. Most hospitals make money by selling the umbilical cords cut from women who give birth. They are used in vein transplant surgery.&lt;br /&gt;25. Humphrey Bogart was related to Princess Diana. They were 7th cousins.&lt;br /&gt;26. If coloring weren't added to Coca-Cola, it would be green.&lt;br /&gt;Answers below...&lt;br /&gt;They are all TRUE.... Now go back and think about #16!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110224241234759081?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110224241234759081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110224241234759081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224241234759081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224241234759081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/true-or-false.html' title='True or False?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110224183583785457</id><published>2004-12-05T02:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T02:17:15.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living Dangerously</title><content type='html'>ALL IN FUN!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;A blind man enters an all woman bar by mistake. He finds his way to a bar stool, and orders a drink. After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender in a loud voice, "Hey bartender, you wanna hear a dumb blonde joke?" The bar immediately falls deathly quiet. In a very deep husky voice the woman next to him says, "Before you tell that joke, sir, I think it is only fair, given that you are blind, that you should know five things....&lt;br /&gt;1. The bartender is a blonde woman.&lt;br /&gt;2. The bouncer is a blonde woman.&lt;br /&gt;3. The woman sitting next to me is blonde and is a professional weight lifter.&lt;br /&gt;4. The lady to your right is blonde, and is a professional wrestler.&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm a 6' blonde woman, 100kgs, with a PhD, a black belt in karate, and a very bad attitude!&lt;br /&gt;Now think seriously about it Mister. Do you still want to tell that joke?" The blind man thinks for a second or two, shakes his head and says, "Nah ... Not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110224183583785457?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110224183583785457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110224183583785457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224183583785457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110224183583785457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/living-dangerously.html' title='Living Dangerously'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110223950327406836</id><published>2004-12-05T01:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T01:38:23.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Did I get here?</title><content type='html'>A 2nd grader asked her mother the age-old question, "How did I get here?"&lt;br /&gt;Her mother told her, "God sent you."&lt;br /&gt;Did God send you, too?" asked the child.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Dear," the mother replied.&lt;br /&gt;"What about Grandma and Grandpa?" the child persisted.&lt;br /&gt;He sent them also," the mother said.&lt;br /&gt;"Did he send their parents, too?" asked the child.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Dear, He did," said the mother patiently.&lt;br /&gt;"So you're telling me that there has been no sex in this family for 200 years!&lt;br /&gt;No wonder everyone's so grouchy around here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110223950327406836?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110223950327406836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110223950327406836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110223950327406836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110223950327406836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/12/how-did-i-get-here.html' title='How Did I get here?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110176225534552203</id><published>2004-11-29T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T01:46:23.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>-November 2004: Favorite Selections-</title><content type='html'>Favorite Joke : &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Women's Age?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Link : "&lt;a href="http://www.mygoldentertainment.com/abccash"&gt;Unlimited Movies Anytime!&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Comedian Site : "&lt;a href="http://www.gallaghersmash.com/index2.htm"&gt;Gallagher&lt;/a&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember to submit your vote for next month!&lt;br /&gt;Send your e-mail to &lt;a href="mailto:Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz"&gt;Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110176225534552203?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110176225534552203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110176225534552203' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110176225534552203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110176225534552203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/november-2004-favorite-selections.html' title='-November 2004: Favorite Selections-'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110169081568778614</id><published>2004-11-28T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T01:44:35.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Divorce</title><content type='html'>A man in Phoenix calls his son in New York the day before Thanksgiving and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pop, what are you talking about?" the son screams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't stand the sight of each other any longer," the father says. "We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. "Like heck they're getting divorced," she shouts, "I'll take care of this,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She calls Phoenix immediately, and screams at her father, "You are NOT getting divorced. Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he says, "they're coming for Thanksgiving and paying their own way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110169081568778614?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110169081568778614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110169081568778614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110169081568778614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110169081568778614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/thanksgiving-divorce.html' title='Thanksgiving Divorce'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110108171165791284</id><published>2004-11-21T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T16:01:51.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Women's Age??</title><content type='html'>What is the difference between girls aged: 8, 18, 28, 38, 48, 58, 68 and 78?&lt;br /&gt;At 8 - You take her to bed and tell her a story.&lt;br /&gt;At 18 - You tell her a story and take her to bed.&lt;br /&gt;At 28 - You don't need to tell her a story to take her to bed.&lt;br /&gt;At 38 - She tells you a story and takes you to bed.&lt;br /&gt;At 48 - You tell her a story to avoid going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;At 58 - You stay in bed to avoid her story.&lt;br /&gt;At 68 - If you take her to bed, that'll be a story!!&lt;br /&gt;At 78 - What story???? What bed??? Who are you???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110108171165791284?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110108171165791284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110108171165791284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110108171165791284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110108171165791284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/womens-age.html' title='Women&apos;s Age??'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110099290829558945</id><published>2004-11-20T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-20T15:21:48.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctor, "Can I..."</title><content type='html'>A pretty young woman, obviously pregnant went to her OB/GYN doctor for an exam.&lt;br /&gt;After the exam, she shyly began, "My husband wants me to ask you..."&lt;br /&gt;"I know, I know," the doctor said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I get asked that all the time." Sex is fine until late in the pregnancy."&lt;br /&gt;"No, that's not it," Catherine confessed. "He wants to know if I can still mow the Yard?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110099290829558945?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110099290829558945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110099290829558945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110099290829558945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110099290829558945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/doctor-can-i.html' title='Doctor, &quot;Can I...&quot;'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110098932782590481</id><published>2004-11-20T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-20T14:22:07.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Age by Chocolate - Very Cool</title><content type='html'>DON'T CHEAT BY SCROLLING DOWN FIRST!&lt;br /&gt;This is too cool! And it really does work!!!!&lt;br /&gt;It takes less than a minute.......&lt;br /&gt;Work this out as you read.&lt;br /&gt;Be sure you don't read the bottom until you've worked it out!&lt;br /&gt;This is not one of those waste of time things, it's fun.&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead!&lt;br /&gt;1. First of all, pick the number of times a week that you would like to have chocolate. (more than once but less than 10)&lt;br /&gt;2. Multiply this number by 2 (Just to be bold)&lt;br /&gt;3. Add 5. (for Sunday)&lt;br /&gt;4. Multiply it by 50.&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait while you get the calculator....&lt;br /&gt;5. If you have already had your birthday this year add 1754. If you haven't, add 1753.&lt;br /&gt;6. Now subtract the four digit year that you were born.&lt;br /&gt;You should have a three digit number...&lt;br /&gt;The first digit of this was your original number (i.e., how many times you want to have chocolate each week).&lt;br /&gt;The next two numbers are...&lt;br /&gt;YOUR AGE! (Oh YES, it is!!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS THE ONLY YEAR (2004) IT WILL EVER WORK,&lt;br /&gt;SO SPREAD IT AROUND WHILE IT LASTS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110098932782590481?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110098932782590481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110098932782590481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098932782590481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098932782590481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/your-age-by-chocolate-very-cool.html' title='Your Age by Chocolate - Very Cool'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110098755448805926</id><published>2004-11-20T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-20T14:11:18.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Oil Shortage</title><content type='html'>A lot of folks can't understand how we came to have an oil shortage here in America.&lt;br /&gt;Well, there's a very simple answer.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody bothered to check the oil.&lt;br /&gt;We just didn't know we were getting low.&lt;br /&gt;The reason for that is purely geographical.&lt;br /&gt;Our OIL is located in&lt;br /&gt;Alaska&lt;br /&gt;California&lt;br /&gt;Kansas&lt;br /&gt;Oklahoma&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;TEXAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our DIPSTICKS are located in&lt;br /&gt;Washington DC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110098755448805926?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110098755448805926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110098755448805926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098755448805926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098755448805926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/oil-shortage.html' title='The Oil Shortage'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110098588642847012</id><published>2004-11-20T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-20T13:24:46.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating Update From Grandma</title><content type='html'>Dear family and friends:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become a little older since I saw you last and a few changes have come into my life since then. Frankly, I have become a frivolous old gal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am seeing five gentlemen everyday. As soon as I wake up, Will Power helps me get out of bed. Then I go to see John. Then Charlie Horse comes along, and when he is here he takes a lot of my time and attention. When he leaves, Arthur Ritis shows up and stays the rest of the day. He doesn't like to stay in one place very long, so he takes me from joint to joint. After such a busy day, I'm really tired and glad to go to bed with Ben Gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a life. Oh yes, I'm also flirty with Al Zymer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Grandma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The preacher came to call the other day. He said at my age I should be thinking of the hereafter. I told him, "Oh I do it all the time. No matter where I am in the parlor, upstairs, in the kitchen, or down the basement. I ask myself, "Now, what am I here after?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110098588642847012?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110098588642847012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110098588642847012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098588642847012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098588642847012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/dating-update-from-grandma.html' title='Dating Update From Grandma'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110098278558641705</id><published>2004-11-20T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-20T12:39:41.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SAT Test</title><content type='html'>The following questions and answers were collated from the SAT tests given to 16 years-old students! Don't laugh too hard -- one of them could become president one day! You have to admit some are very creative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Name the four seasons.&lt;br /&gt;A: Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How is dew formed?&lt;br /&gt;A: The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is a planet?&lt;br /&gt;A: A body of earth surrounded by sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What causes the tides in the ocean?&lt;br /&gt;A: The tides are a fight between the Earth and the Moon. All water tends to flow toward the moon because there is no water on the moon and nature abhors a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins in this fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?&lt;br /&gt;A: He says good-bye to his boyhood and looks forward to adultery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Name a major disease associated with cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;A: Premature death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How can you delay milk turning sour?&lt;br /&gt;A: Keep it in the cow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is the Fibula?&lt;br /&gt;A: A small lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What does "varicose" mean?&lt;br /&gt;A: Nearby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is a terminal illness?&lt;br /&gt;A: When you are sick at the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Give an example of a fungus. What is a characteristic feature?&lt;br /&gt;A: Mushrooms. They always grow in damp places and so they look like umbrellas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is a turbine?&lt;br /&gt;A: Something an Arab wears on his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just think, one day our social security payments will depend on these kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110098278558641705?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110098278558641705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110098278558641705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098278558641705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110098278558641705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/sat-test.html' title='SAT Test'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110059045129898940</id><published>2004-11-15T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T15:02:02.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss Bea</title><content type='html'>Miss Bea, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was much admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old pump organ, the young minister noticed a cut glass bowl sitting on top of it, filled with water. In the water floated, of all things, a condom! When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist. "Miss Bea," he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" pointing to the bowl. "Oh, yes," she replied, "isn't it wonderful? I was walking downtown a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet, and it would prevent the spread of disease. And you know, I haven't had a cold all winter!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110059045129898940?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110059045129898940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110059045129898940' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110059045129898940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110059045129898940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/miss-bea.html' title='Miss Bea'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-110059021673205940</id><published>2004-11-15T23:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T23:30:16.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Did God Make Mothers?</title><content type='html'>The following are different answers given by school-age children to the given questions:&lt;br /&gt;Why did God make mothers?&lt;br /&gt;1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.&lt;br /&gt;2. Think about it, it was the best way to get more people.&lt;br /&gt;3. Mostly to clean the house.&lt;br /&gt;4. To help us out of there when we were getting born.&lt;br /&gt;How did God make mothers?&lt;br /&gt;1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.&lt;br /&gt;3. He made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.&lt;br /&gt;Why did God give you your mother and not some other Mom?&lt;br /&gt;1. We're related.&lt;br /&gt;2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.&lt;br /&gt;What ingredients are mothers made of?&lt;br /&gt;1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world, and one dab of mean.&lt;br /&gt;2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string. I think.&lt;br /&gt;What kind of little girl was your Mom?&lt;br /&gt;1. My Mom has always been my Mom and none of that other stuff.&lt;br /&gt;2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.&lt;br /&gt;3. They say she used to be nice.&lt;br /&gt;How did your Mom meet your dad?&lt;br /&gt;1. Mom was working in a store and dad was shoplifting.&lt;br /&gt;What did Mom need to know about dad before she married him?&lt;br /&gt;1. His last name.&lt;br /&gt;2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer? Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?&lt;br /&gt;Why did your Mom marry your dad?&lt;br /&gt;1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.&lt;br /&gt;2. She got too old to do anything else with him.&lt;br /&gt;3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.&lt;br /&gt;What makes a real woman?&lt;br /&gt;1. It means you have to be really bossy without looking bossy.&lt;br /&gt;Who's the boss at your house?&lt;br /&gt;1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dads such a goofball.&lt;br /&gt;2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.&lt;br /&gt;3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.&lt;br /&gt;What's the difference between moms and dads?&lt;br /&gt;1. Moms work at work and work at home, and dads just got to work at work.&lt;br /&gt;2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.&lt;br /&gt;3. Dads are taller and stronger, but moms have all the real power cause that's who you gotta ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's.&lt;br /&gt;What does your Mom do in her spare time?&lt;br /&gt;1. Mothers don't do spare time.&lt;br /&gt;2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.&lt;br /&gt;What's the difference between moms and grandma's?&lt;br /&gt;1. About 30 years.&lt;br /&gt;2. You can always count on grandmothers for candy. Sometimes moms don't even have bread on them!&lt;br /&gt;Describe the world's greatest Mom?&lt;br /&gt;1. She would make broccoli taste like ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;2. The greatest Mom in the world wouldn't make me kiss my fat aunts!&lt;br /&gt;3. She'd always be smiling and keep her opinions to herself.&lt;br /&gt;Is anything about your Mom perfect?&lt;br /&gt;1. Her teeth are perfect, but she bought them from the dentist.&lt;br /&gt;2. Her casserole recipes. But we hate them.&lt;br /&gt;3. Just her children&lt;br /&gt;What would it take to make your Mom perfect?&lt;br /&gt;1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.&lt;br /&gt;2. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd dye-it, maybe blue.&lt;br /&gt;If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.&lt;br /&gt;2. I'd make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-110059021673205940?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/110059021673205940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=110059021673205940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110059021673205940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/110059021673205940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/why-did-god-make-mothers.html' title='Why Did God Make Mothers?'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109946464910792935</id><published>2004-11-02T22:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T22:52:09.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blizzard</title><content type='html'>Jack decided to go skiing with his buddy, Bob. They loaded up Jack's SUV and headed north. After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard. They pulled into a nearby farm and asked the attractive lady who answered the door if they could spend the night.&lt;br /&gt;"I realize it's terrible weather out there and I have this huge house all to myself, but I'm recently widowed" she explained. "I'm afraid neighbors will talk if I let you stay in my house."&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry," Jack said. "We'll be happy to sleep in the barn. And if the weather breaks, we'll be gone at first light."&lt;br /&gt;The lady agreed, and the two men found their way to the barn and settled in for the night. Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way. They enjoyed a great weekend of skiing.&lt;br /&gt;About nine months later, Jack got an unexpected letter from an attorney.&lt;br /&gt;It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow he had met on the ski weekend.&lt;br /&gt;He dropped in on his friend Bob and asked, "Bob, do you remember that good-looking widow from the farm we stayed at on our ski holiday up North?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I do."&lt;br /&gt;"Did you happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and pay her a visit?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," Bob said, a little embarrassed about being found out. "I have to admit that I did."&lt;br /&gt;"And did you happen to use my name instead of telling her your name?"&lt;br /&gt;Bob's face turned red and he said, "Yeah, sorry, buddy. I'm afraid I did. Why do you ask?"&lt;br /&gt;"She just died and left me everything."&lt;br /&gt;(And you thought the ending would be different, didn't you?)&lt;br /&gt;Now keep that smile for the rest of the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109946464910792935?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109946464910792935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109946464910792935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109946464910792935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109946464910792935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/blizzard.html' title='Blizzard'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109946369752682400</id><published>2004-11-02T22:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T22:34:57.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Subject:  Perspective is Everything</title><content type='html'>Barbara Walters did a story on gender roles in Kabul several years  before the Afghan conflict. Then, she noted that women customarily walked about 6 paces behind their husbands. She returned to Kabul recently and observed that women still walk behind their husbands, but now seem to walk even further back and are happy with the old custom. Ms. Walters approached one of the Afghani women and asked, "But why do you now seem happy with the old custom that you used to try and change."&lt;br /&gt;"Land mines," said the woman.&lt;br /&gt;Perspective is everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109946369752682400?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109946369752682400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109946369752682400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109946369752682400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109946369752682400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/11/subject-perspective-is-everything.html' title='Subject:  Perspective is Everything'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109925795019950887</id><published>2004-10-31T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T12:22:52.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>-October 2004: Favorite Selections- </title><content type='html'>Favorite Joke : "&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Two Old Ladies&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Link : "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://customers4life.biz/Nutrition"&gt;Want A Better Health Plan?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://customers4life.biz/Nutrition"&gt;Try Whole Food&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Comedian Site : "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.georgelopez.com/"&gt;George Lopez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be sure to submit your votes for next month.&lt;br /&gt;Send your e-mail to &lt;a href="mailto:Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz"&gt;Laughsonline@ABCcash.biz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109925795019950887?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109925795019950887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109925795019950887' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109925795019950887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109925795019950887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/october-2004-favorite-selections.html' title='-October 2004: Favorite Selections- '/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109901833892047736</id><published>2004-10-28T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T19:52:18.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living in 2004</title><content type='html'>With the nostalgia craze it's nice to see a list geared to the 21st century.&lt;br /&gt;You know you're living in 2004 when...&lt;br /&gt;1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.&lt;br /&gt;3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.&lt;br /&gt;4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.&lt;br /&gt;5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.&lt;br /&gt;6. You go home after a long day at work you still answer the phone in a business manner.&lt;br /&gt;7. You make phone calls from home you accidentally dial "9" to get an outside line.&lt;br /&gt;8. You've sat at the same desk for four years and worked for three different companies.&lt;br /&gt;10. You learn about your redundancy on the 11 o'clock news.&lt;br /&gt;11. Your boss doesn't have the ability to do your job.&lt;br /&gt;12. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home.&lt;br /&gt;13. Every commercial on television has a website at the bottom of the screen.&lt;br /&gt;14. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.&lt;br /&gt;15. You get up in the morning and go online before getting your coffee.&lt;br /&gt;16. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. :)&lt;br /&gt;17. You're reading this and nodding and laughing.&lt;br /&gt;18. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.&lt;br /&gt;19. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.&lt;br /&gt;20. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list AND NOW U R LAUGHING at yourself. Go on, forward this to your friends... You know you want to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109901833892047736?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109901833892047736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109901833892047736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109901833892047736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109901833892047736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/living-in-2004.html' title='Living in 2004'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109901778197785066</id><published>2004-10-28T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T19:53:28.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Texas Survivor </title><content type='html'>Due to the popularity of the Survivor shows, Texas is planning to do one entitled, "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Survivor: Texas Style&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;". The contestants will all start in Dallas, then drive to Waco, Austin, San Antonio, over to Houston and down to Brownsville. They will then proceed up to Del Rio, El Paso, Midland, Odessa, Lubbock and Amarillo. From there they will go on to Abilene, Fort Worth and finally back to Dallas. Each will be driving a pink Volvo with bumper stickers that read: "I'm gay, I love the Dixie Chicks, Boycott Beef, I voted for Al Gore, George Strait Stinks, Kerry in 2004, Hillary in 2008, and I'm here to confiscate your guns." The first one who makes it back to Dallas alive, wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109901778197785066?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109901778197785066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109901778197785066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109901778197785066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109901778197785066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/texas-survivor.html' title='Texas Survivor '/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109885116068111116</id><published>2004-10-26T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T21:26:00.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mexican Firefighter</title><content type='html'>What did the Mexican Firefighter name his two new twin babies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hose A (Jose) &amp;amp; Hose B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109885116068111116?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109885116068111116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109885116068111116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109885116068111116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109885116068111116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/mexican-firefighter.html' title='Mexican Firefighter'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109885082562932141</id><published>2004-10-26T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T21:20:25.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Men in Heaven</title><content type='html'>It was getting a little crowded in heaven, so God decided to change the admittance policy. The new law was that, in order to get into heaven, you had to have a real bummer of a day when you died. The policy would go into effect at noon the next day. The next day at 12:01, the first person comes to the gates of heaven. The angel at the gate, remembering the new policy, promptly says to the Scotsman, Before I let you in, I need you to tell me how your day was going when you died. No problem, the man says. I came home to my 25th floor apartment in my lunch hour and caught my wife half-naked and appearing to be having an affair, but her lover was nowhere in sight. I immediately began searching for him. My wife was yelling at me as I searched the entire apartment. Just as I was about to give up, I happened to glance out onto the balcony and noticed that there was a man hanging off the edge by his fingertips! The nerve of that guy! Well, I ran out onto the balcony and stomped on his fingers until he fell to the ground. But wouldn't you know it, he landed in some trees and bushes that broke his fall and he didn't die. This ticked me off even more. In a rage, I went back inside to get the first thing I could get my hands on to throw at him. Oddly enough, the first thing I thought of was the refrigerator. I unplugged it, pushed it out onto the balcony, and tipped it over the side. It plummeted 25 stories and crushed him! The excitement of the moment was so great that I had a heart attack and died almost instantly. The angel sits back and thinks for a moment. Technically, the guy did have a bad day. It was a crime of passion. So, the angel announces, OK sir. Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven, and lets him in. A few seconds later the next guy comes up. Before I can let you in, I need to hear about what your day was like when you died. The Finnishman says, No problem. But you're not going to believe this. I was on the balcony of my 26th floor apartment doing my daily exercises. I had been under a lot of pressure so I was really pushing hard to relieve my stress. I guess I got a little carried away, slipped, and accidentally fell over the side! Luckily, I was able to catch myself by the fingertips on the balcony below mine. But all of a sudden this crazy Scotsman comes running out of his apartment, starts cussing, and stomps on my fingers. Well of course I fell. I hit some trees and bushes at the bottom that broke my fall so I didn't die right away. As I'm laying there face up on the ground, unable to move, and in excruciating pain, I see this guy push his refrigerator of all things off the balcony. It falls the 25 floors and lands on top of me, killing me instantly. The angel is quietly laughing to himself as the man finishes his story. I could get used to this new policy, he thinks to himself. Very well, the angel announces, welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven, and he lets the Finnishman enter. A few seconds later, a third man comes up to the gate. The angel is warming up to his task. OK, please tell me what it was like the day you died. The Irishman says, OK, picture this. I'm naked inside this refrigerator...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109885082562932141?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109885082562932141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109885082562932141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109885082562932141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109885082562932141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/three-men-in-heaven.html' title='Three Men in Heaven'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109885000952161035</id><published>2004-10-26T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T21:06:49.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Floridians</title><content type='html'>"Floridians"&lt;br /&gt;With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy......&lt;br /&gt;You might be a Floridian if:&lt;br /&gt;You have more than 20 C and D batteries in your kitchen drawer.&lt;br /&gt;The freezer in your garage is full of homemade ice.&lt;br /&gt;You flinch when you are introduced to a person named Charley, Frances or Ivan.&lt;br /&gt;You find yourself dropping words like "millibar" and "convection" into everyday conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Your pantry contains more than 10 cans of Spaghetti-Os.&lt;br /&gt;Making coffee on your propane grill does not seem like an odd thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;You are thinking of repainting your house to match the plywood covering your windows.&lt;br /&gt;When describing your house to a prospective buyer, you say it has three bedrooms, two baths and one safe place.&lt;br /&gt;You are on a first-name basis with the cashier at Home Depot.&lt;br /&gt;You are delighted to pay $2 for a gallon of unleaded.&lt;br /&gt;You decide that your patio furniture looks better on the bottom of the pool.&lt;br /&gt;You have the number for FEMA on your speed dialer.&lt;br /&gt;You own more than three large coolers.&lt;br /&gt;You can wish that other people get hit by a hurricane and not feel the least bit guilty about it.&lt;br /&gt;Three months ago you couldn't hang a shower curtain; today you can assemble a portable generator by candlelight.&lt;br /&gt;You catch a 5-pound catfish. In your driveway.&lt;br /&gt;You can recite from memory whole portions of your homeowner's insurance policy.&lt;br /&gt;At cocktail parties, women are attracted to the guy with the biggest chain saw.&lt;br /&gt;You have had tuna fish more than 5 days in a row.&lt;br /&gt;There is a roll of tar paper in your garage.&lt;br /&gt;You can rattle off the names of three or more meteorologists who work at the Weather Channel&lt;br /&gt;Someone comes to your door to tell you they found your roof.&lt;br /&gt;Ice is a valid topic of conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Relocating to North Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109885000952161035?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109885000952161035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109885000952161035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109885000952161035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109885000952161035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/floridians.html' title='Floridians'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109868809171201719</id><published>2004-10-24T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T00:08:11.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken</title><content type='html'>The CEO of Tyson Foods manages to arrange a meeting with the Pope at the Vatican. After receiving the papal blessing, he whispers, "Your Eminence, we have an offer for you. Tyson Foods is prepared to donate $100 million dollars to the church if you change the Lord's Prayer from 'give us this day our daily bread' to 'give us this day our daily chicken.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pope responds, "That is impossible. The Prayer is the word of the Lord - it must not be changed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," says the Tyson man, "we anticipated your reluctance. For this reason, we will increase our offer to $300 million dollars. All we require is that you change the Lord's Prayer from 'give us this day our daily bread' to 'give us this day our daily chicken.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, the Pope replies, "That, my son, is impossible. For the prayer is the word of the Lord and it must not be changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Finally, the Tyson guy says, "Your Holiness, we at Tyson Foods respect your adherence to your faith, but we do have one final offer. We will donate $500 million dollars - that's half a billion dollars - to the great Catholic Church if you would only change the Lord's Prayer from 'give us this day our daily bread' to 'give us this day our daily chicken'. Please consider it." And he leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the Pope convenes the College of Cardinals. "There is some good news," he announces, "and some bad news."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The good news is that the Church has come into $500 million dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And the bad news, your eminence?" asks a Cardinal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're losing the Wonderbread account."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109868809171201719?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109868809171201719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109868809171201719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109868809171201719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109868809171201719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/chicken.html' title='Chicken'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109868620093378621</id><published>2004-10-24T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T23:36:40.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Reasons Why Trick-or-Treating is better than Sex</title><content type='html'>10. You're guaranteed to get at least a little something in the sack.&lt;br /&gt;9. Once you've done it, you don't have to wait an hour to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;8. The uglier you look, the more likely you'll get some.&lt;br /&gt;7. You don't have to make small talk with the person who gave the candy.&lt;br /&gt;6. The person giving it to you isn't fantasizing you're someone else.&lt;br /&gt;5. If you get a stomach ache, it won't last 9 months.&lt;br /&gt;4. If you wear a mask, no one thinks you're kinky.&lt;br /&gt;3. Doesn't matter if the kids hear you moaning and groaning.&lt;br /&gt;2. You don't have to call the person that gave it to you next week.&lt;br /&gt;And the #1 reason trick-or-treating is better than having sex............&lt;br /&gt;1. If you don't get what you want, you can always go next door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109868620093378621?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109868620093378621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109868620093378621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109868620093378621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109868620093378621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/top-10-reasons-why-trick-or-treating.html' title='Top 10 Reasons Why Trick-or-Treating is better than Sex'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7605422.post-109800413672810515</id><published>2004-10-17T02:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-17T02:08:56.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Baseball Game</title><content type='html'>Three elderly ladies are very excited about seeing their first baseball game. They smuggle a bottle of Jack Daniels into the baseball park. The game is really exciting and they are enjoying themselves immensely, mixing the Jack Daniels with their soda drinks. Finally, one of them passes out. Soon they realize that the bottle is almost gone and the game has a lot of innings yet to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Based on the given information, what inning is it and how many players are on base?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer: It's the bottom of the fifth, one out, and all 3 bags are loaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7605422-109800413672810515?l=laughsonline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/feeds/109800413672810515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7605422&amp;postID=109800413672810515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109800413672810515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7605422/posts/default/109800413672810515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laughsonline.blogspot.com/2004/10/first-baseball-game.html' title='First Baseball Game'/><author><name>Diane Nivens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17410652956051677401</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wYb9ox5TGy8/Sndxj_w3krI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Hcq9v4jZcWU/S220/Diane+Yellow+Roses.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
