<?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-6259110272740597042</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:45:34.666-08:00</updated><category term='Husband n Wife'/><category term='People'/><category term='Marriage'/><category term='Children'/><category term='Lawyer'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Police'/><category term='Animals'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>A Joke Collections Around A World</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8569391954246911617</id><published>2008-08-08T03:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T03:13:30.609-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Chicks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When I was 14, I hoped that one day I would have a girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 16 I got a girlfriend, but there was no passion, so I decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In college I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a girl with stability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 25 I found a very stable girl but she was boring. She was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided that I needed a girl with some excitement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 28 I found an exciting girl, but I couldn't keep up with her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything. She did mad impetuous things and made me miserable as often as happy. She was great fun initially and very energetic, but directionless. So I decided to find a girl with some real ambition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I turned 31, I found a smart ambitious girl with her feet planted firmly on the ground and married her. She was so ambitious that she divorced me and took everything I owned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now older and wiser, and am looking for a girl with big tits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8569391954246911617?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8569391954246911617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8569391954246911617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8569391954246911617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8569391954246911617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/08/chicks.html' title='Chicks'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-2499984172321869912</id><published>2008-07-23T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T17:59:09.997-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Discomfort</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In a train compartment a young couple and an elderly, somewhat ragged man were sitting. The girl looks like she's having some discomfort so her boyfriend asks her,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong honey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replies, "My head hurts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her boyfriend kisses her forehead, and asks her, "Is it better now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asks, "Does it hurt somewhere else?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here," she replies, pointing to her lips. So the boyfriend kisses he lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is it better now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Much better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anywhere else?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replies by pointing to her neck. So the boyfriend kisses her neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annoyed at the pitiful public display, the elderly man asks the young man,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me pal, do you do hemorrhoids?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-2499984172321869912?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/2499984172321869912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=2499984172321869912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2499984172321869912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2499984172321869912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/07/discomfort.html' title='Discomfort'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4099537997605583621</id><published>2008-07-10T05:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T05:09:06.892-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Dear John</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  A young girl on a year's training course in South  Africa recently received a "Dear John" letter from  her boyfriend back home. It read as follows:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;      Dear Mary,    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  I can no longer continue our relationship. The  distance between us is just too great.  I must admit that I have cheated on you twice,  since you've been gone, and it's not fair to  either of us.  I'm sorry. Please return the picture   of me that I sent to you.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  Love, John  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  Mary, with hurt feelings, asked her colleagues for  any snapshots they could spare of their boyfriends,  brothers, ex-boyfriends, uncles, cousins etc. In  addition to the picture of John, Mary included all  the other pictures of the pretty lads she had  collected from her buddies. There were 57 photos in  that envelope along with this note:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  Dear John,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  I'm so sorry, but I can't quite remember who the  f*ck you are. Please take your picture from the  pile, and send the rest back to me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;      Take Care, Mary    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4099537997605583621?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4099537997605583621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4099537997605583621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4099537997605583621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4099537997605583621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/07/dear-john.html' title='Dear John'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7015833099136558052</id><published>2008-07-08T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T05:49:49.929-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Rude Bus Driver</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  On this morning a woman and her baby were taking a bus. As she entered the bus the driver says "Wow that is one ugly baby." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman deeply hurt just continued on the bus and found a seat next to an elderly man. The man asks "What's wrong you look mad?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; She replied "I am. That bus driver just insulted me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You shouldn't take that from him." the man replied. "He's a public worker and should give you respect. If I was you I would take down his badge number and report him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "You're right sir I think I will report him." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The elderly man says, "You go on up there and get his badge number. I'll hold your monkey for you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7015833099136558052?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7015833099136558052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7015833099136558052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7015833099136558052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7015833099136558052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/07/rude-bus-driver.html' title='Rude Bus Driver'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-1016570604833071710</id><published>2008-07-07T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T06:03:15.290-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband n Wife'/><title type='text'>Anatomy Of Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;" id="body"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wife is a living creative. It has two hands and two feet. She uses her hands to throw the household utensils on her husband. Sometimes she hurls iron forks and even heavy things on him .she uses her feet to go on shopping and attending functions. She is often seen at the shopping centers however you can see her in house too when she invites her friends to show them the obedience of her husband. It has two eyes that contain a fluid which she keeps on overflowing from her eyes. These are called tears but in fact these are borrowed from the crocodiles. This fluid works as a catalyst to convince the so called husbands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It has two ears that are used to hear the backbiting of the neighbors or the close relatives of the husband. This is a creature that has more interest in necklace than her children. She has a heart or emotions that are only for her parents. All the various branches of her heart lead to her parent's home. It has strongest digestive system in this world as it gnaws at the salary of her husband within no time. Its favorite dish is the meal prepared by her husband. Grabbing Salary is the favorite pastime and pretension of fidelity is her favorite snobbery.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She has pair of scissors like piece of flesh that is called the tongue. This scissor keeps on and keeps on and never tired. It cuts to the quick her husband feelings and never felt qualms of conscience. This is the only creature that does not use brain but tongue for thinking purposes too. This creature is more allergic from the family of the husband especially the brothers and sisters of his husband. She feels happy when she is among her friends.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The very presence of her fiancé is the most annoying sight for her eyes. If you want to suffocate her, keep her in the house for some days. It feels like fish out of water in the last days of the month when she can not go out for shopping. It is never tried of back biting and shopping. If you want her see laughing, you would have to wait for the paydays. It laughs and coax and cajole her mate only for one day and that is the payday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table style="text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;&lt;div id="sig" class="sig"&gt;&lt;p&gt;self observation&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Article Source: &lt;a id="link_79" href="http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=Akram_Saqib"&gt;http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Akram_Saqib&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-1016570604833071710?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/1016570604833071710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=1016570604833071710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1016570604833071710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1016570604833071710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/07/anatomy-of-wife.html' title='Anatomy Of Wife'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-6785582687640198852</id><published>2008-07-06T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T18:01:02.973-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>New Electric Train</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; A few days after Christmas, A mother was working in the kitchen listening to her son playing with his new electric train set in the living room. She heard the train stop and her son yell&lt;br /&gt;'All you sons of b*tches who want to get off, get the hell off now, because this is the last stop!&lt;br /&gt;All of you sons of b*tches that are getting on, get your asses in the train cause were leaving'.&lt;br /&gt;The mother went in and told her son, 'we don't use that kind of language in this house.'&lt;br /&gt;Now I want you to go into your room for two hours. When you come out, you can play with your train, but I don't want to hear any bad language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hours later, the son comes out of his room and continues playing with his train.&lt;br /&gt;Soon the train stopped and the mother heard the son say, 'All passengers who are disembarking the train, please remember to take all of your belongings with you. We thank you for riding with us today and hope your ride was a pleasant one. We hope you will ride with us again soon. For those of you who are just boarding the train, we ask that you stow all of your hand luggage under the seat, remember there is no smoking except on the club car. We hope you have a pleasant and relaxing journey with us today'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'For those of you who are pissed off with the two hour delay , please see the b*tch in the kitchen.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-6785582687640198852?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/6785582687640198852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=6785582687640198852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6785582687640198852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6785582687640198852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-electric-train.html' title='New Electric Train'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7100141101406830097</id><published>2008-07-05T02:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T02:13:53.172-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Dead Goldfish</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; Little Tim was in the garden filling in a hole when his neighbor peered over the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interested in what the cheeky-faced youngster was up to, he politely asked, "What are you up to there, Tim?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My goldfish died," replied Tim tearfully, without looking up, "and I've just buried him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The neighbor was concerned, "That's an awfully big hole for a goldfish, isn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim patted down the last heap of earth then replied, "That's because he's inside your stupid cat."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7100141101406830097?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7100141101406830097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7100141101406830097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7100141101406830097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7100141101406830097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/07/dead-goldfish.html' title='Dead Goldfish'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-157416296365357301</id><published>2008-07-01T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T10:24:11.665-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Supermarket</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A new supermarket opened near my house. It has an automatic water mister to keep the produce fresh. Just before it goes on, you hear the sound of distant thunder and the smell of fresh rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you approach the milk cases, you hear cows mooing and experience the scent of fresh hay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you approach the egg case, you hear hens cluck and cackle, and the air is filled with the pleasing aroma of bacon and eggs frying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The veggie department features the smell of fresh buttered corn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't buy toilet paper there any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-157416296365357301?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/157416296365357301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=157416296365357301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/157416296365357301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/157416296365357301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/07/supermarket.html' title='Supermarket'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7654594572908823971</id><published>2008-06-22T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T02:29:19.256-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>New Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SF4bQcYMURI/AAAAAAAABSE/A4GS8hRD6jw/s1600-h/baby_boy_crawling.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 168px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SF4bQcYMURI/AAAAAAAABSE/A4GS8hRD6jw/s320/baby_boy_crawling.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214635387851133202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For weeks a six-year old lad kept telling his first-grade teacher about the baby brother or sister that was expected at his house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the mother allowed the boy to feel the movements of the unborn child. The six-year old was obviously impressed, but made no comment. Furthermore, he stopped telling his teacher about the impending event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher finally sat the boy on her lap and said, "Tommy, whatever has become of that baby brother or sister you were expecting at home?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy burst into tears and confessed, "I think Mommy ate it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7654594572908823971?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7654594572908823971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7654594572908823971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7654594572908823971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7654594572908823971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-baby.html' title='New Baby'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SF4bQcYMURI/AAAAAAAABSE/A4GS8hRD6jw/s72-c/baby_boy_crawling.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-3608898560505776728</id><published>2008-06-20T09:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T09:50:44.413-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>Lost Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man approached a very beautiful woman in a large supermarket and asked, "You know, I've lost my wife here in the supermarket. Can you talk to me for a couple of minutes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?" she asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because every time I talk to a beautiful woman, my wife appears out of nowhere."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-3608898560505776728?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/3608898560505776728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=3608898560505776728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3608898560505776728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3608898560505776728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/lost-again.html' title='Lost Again'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8443931138053457460</id><published>2008-06-17T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T09:02:38.590-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>A short Joke Collections</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFff1wIuNPI/AAAAAAAABLg/WSAqFfw_oVE/s1600-h/classroom.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 216px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFff1wIuNPI/AAAAAAAABLg/WSAqFfw_oVE/s320/classroom.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212881208252183794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher : History is a very interesting subject. It tells you about what had happened in the past.&lt;br /&gt;Student : Please teacher, I don't think I want to study history.&lt;br /&gt;Teacher : Why?&lt;br /&gt;Student : There is no future in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............ ......... ...................... ........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher : Ted, if your father has $10 and you ask him for $6, how much would your father still have?&lt;br /&gt;Ted : $10.&lt;br /&gt;Teacher : You don't know maths.&lt;br /&gt;Ted : You don't know my father!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............ ......... .........! ......... .........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother : David, come here.&lt;br /&gt;David : Yes, mum?&lt;br /&gt;Mother : You really disappoint me. Your results are getting worse.&lt;br /&gt;David : But I will only get my report book tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Mother : I know that. But I am going to Hong Kong tomorrow, so I am scolding you now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............ ......... ......... ......... .........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father : Why did you fail your mathematics test?&lt;br /&gt;Son : On Monday, teacher said 3+5=8&lt;br /&gt;Father : So?&lt;br /&gt;Son : On Tuesday, she said 4+4=8 And on Wednesday, she said 6+2=8. If she can't make up her mind, how do I know the right answer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............ ......... ......... ......... ...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mother and son were doing dishes while the father and daughter were watching TV in the living room. Suddenly, there was a loud crash of breaking plates, then complete silence. The daughter turned to look at her father.&lt;br /&gt;Daughter : It's mummy!&lt;br /&gt;Father : How do you know?&lt;br /&gt;Daughter : She didn't say anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............ ......... ......... ......... .........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Do you love me?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Yes Dear&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Would you die for me?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: No, mine is undying love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: How old is your father?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: As old as me&lt;br /&gt;Man: How can that be?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: He became a father only when I was born&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- ---------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiter: I've stewed liver, boiled tongue and frog's leg.&lt;br /&gt;Customer: Don't tell me your problems. Give me the menu card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher : Simon, your composition on "My Dog" is exactly the same as your brother's. Did u copy his?&lt;br /&gt;Simon : No, teacher, it's the same dog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father : Your teacher says she finds it impossible to teach you anything!&lt;br /&gt;Son : That's why I say she's no good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Where were u born?"&lt;br /&gt;Student: " Singapore , Sir."&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Which part?"&lt;br /&gt;Student: "All of me, Sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A teacher was asking her class: "What is the difference between 'unlawful' and 'illegal'?" Only one hand shot up. "Ok, answer, Joan"&lt;br /&gt;said the teacher. "'unlawful' is when u do something the law doesn't allow and 'illegal' is a sick eagle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- -------! --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "How come you do not comb your hair?"&lt;br /&gt;Ah Kow: "No comb, Sir."&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Use your dad's then."&lt;br /&gt;Ah Kow: "No hair, Sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- --------- --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boy came home from school with his exam results.&lt;br /&gt;"What did u get?" asked his father.&lt;br /&gt;"My marks are under water," said the boy.&lt;br /&gt;"What do u mean 'under water'?"&lt;br /&gt;"They are all below 'C' (sea) level"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8443931138053457460?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8443931138053457460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8443931138053457460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8443931138053457460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8443931138053457460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/short-joke-collections.html' title='A short Joke Collections'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFff1wIuNPI/AAAAAAAABLg/WSAqFfw_oVE/s72-c/classroom.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8999608944696456255</id><published>2008-06-15T07:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T07:53:55.298-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><title type='text'>Find the Rabbit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD), The FBI, and the CIA are all trying to prove that they are the best at apprehending criminals. The President decides to give them a test. He releases a rabbit into a forest and each of them has to catch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The CIA goes in. They place animal informants throughout the forest. They question all plant and mineral witnesses. After three months of extensive investigations they conclude that rabbits do not exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The FBI goes in. After two weeks with no leads they burn the forest, killing everything in it, including the rabbit, and they make no apologies. The rabbit had it coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The LAPD goes in. They come out two hours later with a badly beaten bear. The bear is yelling: "Okay! Okay! I'm a rabbit! I'm a rabbit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8999608944696456255?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8999608944696456255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8999608944696456255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8999608944696456255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8999608944696456255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/find-rabbit.html' title='Find the Rabbit'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-2982307430033731481</id><published>2008-06-14T07:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T08:00:33.232-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><title type='text'>Cops with a Sense of Humor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Who says cops don't have a sense of humor? The following were taken off of actual police car videos around the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Relax, the handcuffs are tight because they're new. They'll stretch out after you wear them awhile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Take your hands off the car, and I'll make your birth certificate a worthless document."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you run, you'll only go to jail tired."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can you run faster than 1,200 feet per second? In case you didn't know, that is the average speed of a 9 mm bullet fired from my gun."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you don't know how fast you were going. I guess that means I can write anything I want on the ticket, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Sir, you can talk to the shift supervisor, but I don't think it will help. Oh ... did I mention that I am the shift supervisor?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Warning! You want a warning? O.K., I'm warning you not to do that again or I'll give you another ticket."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The answer to this last question will determine whether you are drunk or not. Was Mickey Mouse a cat or a dog?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fair? You want me to be fair? Listen, fair is a place where you go to ride on rides, eat cotton candy, and step in monkey poop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife gets a toaster oven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In God we trust, all others we run through NCIC."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just how big were those two beers?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No sir we don't have quotas anymore. We used to have quotas but now we're allowed to write as many tickets as we want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm glad to hear the Chief of Police is a good personal friend of yours. At least you know someone who can post your bail."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You didn't think we give pretty women tickets? You're right, we don't. Sign here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-2982307430033731481?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/2982307430033731481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=2982307430033731481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2982307430033731481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2982307430033731481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/cops-with-sense-of-humor.html' title='Cops with a Sense of Humor'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7053074978500955011</id><published>2008-06-12T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T08:50:16.119-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Final Exam</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Curly is appearing for his University final examination which consists of Y/N type questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes his seat in the examination hall, stares at the question paper for five minutes, and then in a fit of inspiration takes his wallet out, removes a coin and starts tossing the coin and marking the answer sheet - Y for Heads and N for Tails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within half an hour he is all done whereas the rest of the class is sweating it out. During the last few minutes, he is seen desperatley throwing the coin, swearing and sweating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The invigilator, alarmed, approaches him and asks what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I finished the exam in half an hour." he says, "Now I am rechecking my answers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7053074978500955011?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7053074978500955011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7053074978500955011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7053074978500955011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7053074978500955011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/final-exam.html' title='Final Exam'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4363383879342659242</id><published>2008-06-12T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T08:44:36.833-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>The Teacher's Gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFFERGzwdxI/AAAAAAAABAk/1xun1lFYTS8/s1600-h/patch.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFFERGzwdxI/AAAAAAAABAk/1xun1lFYTS8/s320/patch.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211021304520537874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFFERGzwdxI/AAAAAAAABAk/1xun1lFYTS8/s1600-h/patch.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was the last day of school, and all the students were bringing presents for their teacher. A florist's daughter came up and gave her teacher a box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher said, "I'll bet these are flowers!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl replied, "How did you know?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just a lucky guess," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, a boy whose family owned a candy store came up and gave the teacher a box. She said that she knew it was candy. When the boy asked how she knew, she again said, "Just a lucky guess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, a boy whose father owned a liquor store came up and gave the teacher a box, but one of the box's corners was damp from a leak. The teacher asked the boy if it was wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy said, "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She touched the leak and put it to her tongue and asked if it was champagne. The boy again said no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, she gave up and asked him what was in the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said happily,"A puppy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4363383879342659242?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4363383879342659242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4363383879342659242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4363383879342659242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4363383879342659242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/gift.html' title='The Teacher&apos;s Gift'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFFERGzwdxI/AAAAAAAABAk/1xun1lFYTS8/s72-c/patch.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4638436666843856064</id><published>2008-06-11T11:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T08:34:26.735-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Young Guys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A college student challenged a senior citizen, saying, "It is impossible for your generation to understand my generation. You grew up in a different world. Today we have television, jet planes, space travel, nuclear energy, computers..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking advantage of a pause in the student's litany, the geezer said, "You are right. We didn't have those things when we were young; so we invented them! What are you doing for the next generation?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4638436666843856064?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4638436666843856064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4638436666843856064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4638436666843856064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4638436666843856064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/young-guys.html' title='Young Guys'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-2860387994016601710</id><published>2008-06-11T10:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T07:52:23.763-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><title type='text'>All Night Duty</title><content type='html'>A police officer, though scheduled for all-night duty at the station, was relieved of duty early and arrived home four hours ahead of schedule, at 2 in the morning. Not wanting to wake his wife, he undressed in the dark, crept into the bedroom and started to climb into bed. Just then, his wife sleepily sat up and said, "Mike, dearest, would you go down to the all-night drug store on the next block and get me some aspirin? I've got a splitting headache."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Certainly, honey," he said, and feeling his way across the dark room, he got dressed and walked over to the drug store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he arrived, the pharmacist looked up in surprise, "Say," said the druggist, "I know you - aren't you a policeman? Officer Fenwick, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, so?" said the officer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well what the heck are you doing all dressed like the Fire Chief?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-2860387994016601710?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/2860387994016601710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=2860387994016601710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2860387994016601710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2860387994016601710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/all-night-duty.html' title='All Night Duty'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-5588858676330024458</id><published>2008-06-10T05:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T08:29:35.368-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Harvard Test</title><content type='html'>This was developed as an age test by an R&amp;amp;D department at Harvard University.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take your time and see if you can read each line aloud without a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The average person over 40 years old can't do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. This is this cat.&lt;br /&gt;2. This is is cat.&lt;br /&gt;3. This is how cat.&lt;br /&gt;4. This is to cat.&lt;br /&gt;5. This is keep cat.&lt;br /&gt;6. This is an cat.&lt;br /&gt;7. This is old cat.&lt;br /&gt;8. This is fart cat.&lt;br /&gt;9. This is busy cat.&lt;br /&gt;10. This is for cat.&lt;br /&gt;11. This is forty cat.&lt;br /&gt;12. This is seconds cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now go back and read aloud the third word in each line from the top down&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-5588858676330024458?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/5588858676330024458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=5588858676330024458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/5588858676330024458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/5588858676330024458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/harvard-test.html' title='Harvard Test'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-6974119807847375263</id><published>2008-06-10T05:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T08:27:02.410-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Pizza</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFFAJkgrODI/AAAAAAAABAc/otonLzfz3zw/s1600-h/pizza_slice.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 185px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFFAJkgrODI/AAAAAAAABAc/otonLzfz3zw/s320/pizza_slice.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211016777008101426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A college pizza delivery boy arrived at the house of Mr.Smith. He delivered the pizza to his trailer. After giving it to him, Mr. Smith asked: "What is the usual tip?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," replied the youth, "this is my first trip here, but the other guys say if I get a quarter out of you, I'll be doing great."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that so?" snorted Mr. Smith. "Well, just to show them how wrong they are, here's five dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks," replied the youth, "I'll put this in my school fund."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you studying in school?" asked Larry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lad smiled and said: "Applied psychology."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-6974119807847375263?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/6974119807847375263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=6974119807847375263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6974119807847375263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6974119807847375263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/pizza.html' title='Pizza'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SFFAJkgrODI/AAAAAAAABAc/otonLzfz3zw/s72-c/pizza_slice.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-5938396785612588062</id><published>2008-06-09T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T07:33:35.741-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Fishing License</title><content type='html'>After a day fishing on Lake Michigan, a fisherman is walking from the pier carrying two brown trout in a bucket. He is approached by a Conservation Officer who asks him for his fishing license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fisherman says to the warden, "I was not fishing and I did not catch these browns, they are my pets. Every day I come down to the water and dump these fish into the water and take them for a walk to the end of the pier and back. When I'm ready to go I whistle and they jump back into the bucket and we go home. The officer not believing him, reminds him that it is illegal to fish without a license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fisherman turns to the warden and says, "If you don't believe me then watch," as he throws the trout back into the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The warden says, "Now whistle to your fish and show me that they will jump out of the water and into the bucket."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fisherman turns to the officer and says, "What fish?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-5938396785612588062?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/5938396785612588062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=5938396785612588062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/5938396785612588062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/5938396785612588062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/fishing-license.html' title='Fishing License'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-3346925532237566663</id><published>2008-06-09T07:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T07:18:06.247-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Biker's Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SE07iHdgoBI/AAAAAAAAA8E/lUSaGsX5Z0I/s1600-h/bikerdogred.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SE07iHdgoBI/AAAAAAAAA8E/lUSaGsX5Z0I/s200/bikerdogred.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209885801241944082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A highly timid little man, ventured into a biker bar in the Bronx and clearing his throat asked, "Um, err, which of you gentlemen owns the Doberman tied outside to the parking meter?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A giant of a man, wearing biker leathers, his body hair growing out through the seams, turned slowly on his stool, looked down at the quivering little man and said, "It's my dog. Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," squeaked the little man, obviously very nervous, "I believe my dog just killed it, sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" roared the big man in disbelief. "What in the hell kind of dog do you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir," answered the little man, "it's a little four week old female puppy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bull!" roared the biker, "how could your puppy kill my Doberman?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It appears that your dog choked on her, sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-3346925532237566663?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/3346925532237566663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=3346925532237566663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3346925532237566663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3346925532237566663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/bikers-dog.html' title='Biker&apos;s Dog'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SE07iHdgoBI/AAAAAAAAA8E/lUSaGsX5Z0I/s72-c/bikerdogred.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8570528045912149080</id><published>2008-06-09T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T07:12:16.063-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Sparrow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SE06LWRKVPI/AAAAAAAAA78/Eb8GiBfNK3Y/s1600-h/Bigwing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SE06LWRKVPI/AAAAAAAAA78/Eb8GiBfNK3Y/s200/Bigwing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209884310568064242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Once upon a time there was a non-conforming sparrow who decided not to fly south for the winter. However, soon the weather turned so cold that he reluctantly decided to fly south. In a short time ice began to form on his wings and he fell to Earth in a barnyard, nearly frozen solid. A cow passed by where he had fallen, and crapped on the little sparrow.The sparrow thought it was the end, but the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm and happy, able to breath, he started to sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then a large cat came by, and hearing the chirping he investigated the sounds. The cat cleared away the manure, found the chirping bird, and promptly ate him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Moral of the Story:&lt;br /&gt;Everyone who craps on you is not necessarily your enemy&lt;br /&gt;Everyone who gets you out of crap is not necessarily your friend.&lt;br /&gt;And if you're warm and happy in a pile of crap, you might just want to keep your mouth shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8570528045912149080?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8570528045912149080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8570528045912149080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8570528045912149080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8570528045912149080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/sparrow.html' title='The Sparrow'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SE06LWRKVPI/AAAAAAAAA78/Eb8GiBfNK3Y/s72-c/Bigwing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4728181608444779724</id><published>2008-06-08T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T10:09:38.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>Who to Marry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a man who had three girlfriends, but he did not know which one to marry. So he decided to give each one $5000 and see how each of them spent it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one went out and got a total makeover with the money. She got new clothes, a new hairdo, manicure, pedicure, the works, and tells the man, "I spent the money so I could look pretty for you because I love you so much."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one went out and bought new golf clubs, a CD player, a television, and a stereo and gave them to the man. She said, "I bought these gifts for you with the money because I love you so much." The third one takes the $5000 and invests it in the stock market, doubles her investment, returns the $5000 to the man and reinvests the rest. She says, "I am investing the rest of the money for our future because I love you so much."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thought long and hard about how each of the women spent the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, being the mere man he was, he decided to marry the one with the biggest breasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4728181608444779724?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4728181608444779724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4728181608444779724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4728181608444779724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4728181608444779724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/who-to-marry.html' title='Who to Marry'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-6688479335163850831</id><published>2008-06-08T10:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T10:06:44.676-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>Just Like My Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manny was almost 29 years old. Most of his friends had already gotten married, and Manny just bounced from one relationship to the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally a friend asked him, "What's the matter, are you looking for the perfect woman? Are you THAT particular? Can't you find anyone who suits you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," Manny replied. "I meet a lot of nice girls, but as soon as I bring them home to meet my parents, my mother doesn't like them. So I keep on looking!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen," his friend suggested, "Why don't you find a girl who's just like your dear ole Mother?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many weeks past before Manny and his friend got together again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So Manny. Did you find the perfect girl yet? One that's just like your Mother?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manny shrugged his shoulders, "Yes I found one just like Mom. My mother loved her, they became great friends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excellent!!! So, are you and this girl engaged, yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm afraid not. My Father can't stand her!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-6688479335163850831?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/6688479335163850831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=6688479335163850831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6688479335163850831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6688479335163850831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-like-my-mom.html' title='Just Like My Mom'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-819253415837411733</id><published>2008-06-08T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T10:05:27.880-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>Control Over Wives</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Three mates are down the pub. Bill and Joe are arguing about the amount of control they have over their wives, while the third bloke, Fred, says nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, Bill turns to Fred and says, "Well, what about you? What sort of control have you got?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll tell you," Fred replies. "Just the other night my missus came crawling to me on her hands and knees."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other two were absolutely amazed. "What happened then?", Joe asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She said, 'Get out from under the bed and fight like a man!!!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-819253415837411733?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/819253415837411733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=819253415837411733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/819253415837411733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/819253415837411733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/control-over-wives.html' title='Control Over Wives'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7820742595048599233</id><published>2008-06-08T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T09:44:17.002-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>The Guardian Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man was walking in the street when he heard a voice. "Stop! Stand still! If you take one more step, a brick will fall down on your head and kill you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man stopped and a big brick fell right in front of him. The man was astonished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went on, and after awhile he was going to cross the road. Once again the voice shouted: "Stop! Stand still! If you take one more step a car will run over you and you will die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man did as he was instructed, just as a car came careening around the corner, barely missing him. "Where are you?" the man asked. "Who are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am your guardian angel," the voice answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah?" the man asked. "And where the hell were you when I got married?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7820742595048599233?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7820742595048599233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7820742595048599233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7820742595048599233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7820742595048599233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/guardian-angel.html' title='The Guardian Angel'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8628725634106026425</id><published>2008-06-07T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T11:45:13.672-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>A Dog's Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErXGrOdOuI/AAAAAAAAA6M/tdU_utI_KNc/s1600-h/idllogo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErXGrOdOuI/AAAAAAAAA6M/tdU_utI_KNc/s200/idllogo.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209212428689947362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An old, tired-looking dog wandered into the yard. I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He followed me into the house, down the hall, and fell asleep on the couch. An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out. The next day he was back, resumed his position on the couch and slept for an hour. This continued for several weeks. Curious, I pinned a note to his collar: 'Every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day he arrived with a different note pinned to his collar: 'He lives in a home with four children -- he's trying to catch up on his sleep. Can I come with him tomorrow?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8628725634106026425?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8628725634106026425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8628725634106026425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8628725634106026425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8628725634106026425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/dogs-life.html' title='A Dog&apos;s Life'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErXGrOdOuI/AAAAAAAAA6M/tdU_utI_KNc/s72-c/idllogo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7043842588856664459</id><published>2008-06-07T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T11:42:02.673-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Grandma's Boyfriend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErWXb527vI/AAAAAAAAA6E/KINa1ppNKMU/s1600-h/grandma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErWXb527vI/AAAAAAAAA6E/KINa1ppNKMU/s320/grandma.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209211617123167986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A 5-year old boy went to visit his grandmother one day. While playing with his toys in her bedroom while grandma was dusting furniture, he looked up and said, "Grandma, how come you don't have a boyfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma replied, "Honey, my TV is my boyfriend. I can set in my bedroom and watch it all day long. The TV evangelists keep me company and make me feel so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The comedies make me laugh. I'm so happy with my TV as my boyfriend." Grandma turned on the TV and the picture was horrible. She started adjusting the knobs trying to get the picture in focus. Frustrated, she started hitting on the backside of the TV hoping to fix the problem. The little boy heard the doorbell ring so he hurried to open the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he opened the door, there stood Grandma's minister. The minister said, "Hello son is your grandma home?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy replied, "Yeah, she's in the bedroom bangin' her boyfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7043842588856664459?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7043842588856664459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7043842588856664459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7043842588856664459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7043842588856664459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/grandmas-boyfriend.html' title='Grandma&apos;s Boyfriend'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErWXb527vI/AAAAAAAAA6E/KINa1ppNKMU/s72-c/grandma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-1653533426109550359</id><published>2008-06-07T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T11:38:55.745-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Retired Husbands</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mrs. Fenton,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Over the past six months, your husband, Mr. Bill Fenton has been causing quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this type of behavior and have considered banning the entire family from shopping in any of our stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have documented all incidents on our video surveillance equipment. Three of our clerks are attending counseling from the trouble your husband has caused. All complaints against Mr. Fenton have been compiled and are listed below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Wally Underpants&lt;br /&gt;President and CEO of Wal-Mart Complaint Department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MEMO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Re: Mr. Bill Fenton - Complaints -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 Things Mr. Bill Fenton has done while his spouse/partner is shopping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they weren't looking.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the rest rooms.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official tone, 'Code 3' in housewares..... and watched what happened.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; August 4: Went to the Service Desk and asked to put a bag of M&amp;amp;M's on lay away.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;September 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;September 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they'll bring pillows from the bedding department.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;September 23: When a clerk asks if they can help him, he begins to cry and asks Why can't you people just leave me alone?'&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;October 4: Looked right into the security camera; used it as a mirror, and picked his nose.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;November 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, asked the clerk if he knows where the antidepressants are.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;December 3: Darted around the store suspiciously loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;December 6: In the auto department, practiced his "Madonna look" using different size funnels.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;December 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browse through, yelled "PICK ME!" "PICK ME!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;December 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumes the fetal position and screams "NO! NO! It's those voices again!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And; last, but not least!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. December 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door and waited a while; then, yelled, very loudly, "There is no toilet paper in here!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-1653533426109550359?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/1653533426109550359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=1653533426109550359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1653533426109550359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1653533426109550359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/retired-husbands.html' title='Retired Husbands'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7911458736364584875</id><published>2008-06-07T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T10:27:45.962-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErE98QlOUI/AAAAAAAAA5U/bdTtEM9gopY/s1600-h/mom.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 190px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErE98QlOUI/AAAAAAAAA5U/bdTtEM9gopY/s320/mom.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209192487434139970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A family was having dinner on Mother's Day. For some reason the mother was unusually quiet. Finally the husband asked what was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing," said the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not buying it, he asked again. "Seriously, what's wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you really want to know? Well, I'll tell you. I have cooked and cleaned and fed the kids for 15 years and on Mother's Day, you don't even tell me so much as "Thank you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why should I?" he said. "Not once in 15 years have I gotten a Father's Day gift."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," she said, "but I'm their real mother."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7911458736364584875?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7911458736364584875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7911458736364584875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7911458736364584875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7911458736364584875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SErE98QlOUI/AAAAAAAAA5U/bdTtEM9gopY/s72-c/mom.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7577649766556776821</id><published>2008-06-05T10:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T10:50:49.115-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><title type='text'>Parking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A policeman was patrolling a local parking spot overlooking a  golf course. He drove by a car and saw a couple inside with the  dome light on. There was a young man in the driver's seat reading  a computer magazine and a young lady in the back seat knitting.  He stopped to investigate.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  He walked up to the driver's window and knocked. The young man  looked up, cranked the window down, and said, "Yes, officer?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  "What are you doing?" the policeman asked.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  "What does it look like?" answered the young man. "I'm reading a  magazine."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  Pointing towards the young lady in the back seat, the officer  then asked, "And what is she doing?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  The young man looked over his shoulder and replied, "What does it  look like? She's knitting."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  "And how old are you?" the officer then asked the young man.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  "I'm nineteen," he replied.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  "And how old is she?" asked the officer.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;  The young man looked at his watch and said, "Well, in about  twelve minutes she'll be eighteen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7577649766556776821?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7577649766556776821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7577649766556776821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7577649766556776821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7577649766556776821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/parking.html' title='Parking'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-3497763069046791209</id><published>2008-06-05T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T10:49:10.801-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><title type='text'>53 Ways to make a Cop Mad....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;1. When you get pulled over, say "What's wrong, ossifer, there's no blood in my alcohol?"   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  2. When he asks why you were speeding, tell him you wanted to race.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  3. When he talks to you, pretend you are deaf.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  4. If he asks if you knew how fast you were going, say no, my speedometer only goes to......   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  5. Ask if you can see his gun.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  6. Touch him.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  7. When he asks why you were speeding, tell him you had to buy a hat.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  8. Ask him where he bought his cool hat.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  9. Refer to him by his first name.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  10. Pretend you are gay and ask him out.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  11. When he says no, cry.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  12. If he says yes, accuse him of sexual harassment.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  13. If the cop is a woman, tell her how ugly she is, but in a nice way.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  14. If he asks you to step out of the car, automatically throw yourself on the hood.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  15. Ask to be fingerprinted with candy, cause you don't like ink on your fingers.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  16. After you sign the ticket and give it to him, say "Oops! That's the wrong name."   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  17. Bribe him with donuts, and when he agrees, tell him sorry, I just ate the last one.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  18. When he comes up to the car, say "License and registration, please" right when he says it.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  19. When he goes to read you your rights, sing "La La La, I can't hear you!"   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  20. Trip and fall into him.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  21. Accuse him of police brutality when he pushes you away.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  22. Before you sign the ticket, pick your nose. You have to sign with his pen.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  23. Chew on the pen, nervously.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  24. Clean your ear with the pen.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  25. If it's a click pen, take it apart and play with the spring.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  26. Ask if he has a daughter. If he says yes, say I thought the name sounded familiar.....   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  27. Ask him if he ever worked in a prison. If he says yes, ask him how the plumbing was.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  28. Act like you are retarded.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  29. When he's telling you what you did wrong, start repeating him, quietly.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  30. Mumble to yourself.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  31. When he tells you to stop, say what are you talkin about, DUDE?   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  32. Drive to Dunkin Donuts and say hmmm....only 5 of you here tonight.......   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  33. Ask if they know how to make the donuts.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  34. When he comes to the car, say I have a badge just like yours!   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  35. Ask if he watches Cops.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  36. Ask if ever watched Cop Rock.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  37. Giggle if he did.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  38. Talk to your hand.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  39. Ask if he knows somone named Rosy Palm and her Five Favorite Friends.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  40. Accuse him of Sexual Harassment if he does.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  41. When he asks to inspect your car, say there is no alcohol in my car, sir, the last cop got it.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  42. Try to sell him your car.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  43. Ask if you can buy his car.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  44. If he takes you to the station, Ask to sit in front.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  45. Play with the siren.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  46. If there is someone else in the car, talk to each other in tongues.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  47. When he acts confused, keep talking, look at him and laugh.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  48. When you are in the back, touch his neck through the fencing.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  49. Turn your head and whistle.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  50. If he sticks you in the back of the car, cower in the corner, suck your thumb, and whine.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  51. Stare at his lights and say "Look at the pretty colors!"   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  52. Tell him you like men in uniform.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  53. Ask if you can borrow his uniform for a Halloween party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-3497763069046791209?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/3497763069046791209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=3497763069046791209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3497763069046791209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3497763069046791209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/53-ways-to-make-cop-mad.html' title='53 Ways to make a Cop Mad....'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7811748431211391067</id><published>2008-06-04T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T08:56:14.842-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Weird Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lady was in the delivery room starting to deliver her baby. As the head came out it was dark and had an afro. The doctor said, "Madam, have you ever slept with a black man?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yes, but only once."&lt;br /&gt;"Once is all it takes" he replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the torso came out and it was yellow.&lt;br /&gt;"Madam, have you ever slept with an oriental man?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yes" she said, "but only once."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Once is all it takes," he said.&lt;br /&gt;When the legs came out they were red. The doctor asked her if she had ever slept with an Indian.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yes" she said, "but only once."&lt;br /&gt;"Once is all it takes," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally pulled the baby all the way out and held it upside down and slapped its bottom to make it cry. As it started to cry the woman exclaimed "Oh, thank God, at least it doesn't bark!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7811748431211391067?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7811748431211391067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7811748431211391067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7811748431211391067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7811748431211391067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/weird-baby.html' title='Weird Baby'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-1224091172996574538</id><published>2008-06-04T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T08:53:03.413-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>10 Slices of Toast</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy is a young boy, just potty trained. When he goes to the bathroom though, Tommy manages to hit everything but the toilet. So his mom has to go in and clean up after him. After two weeks, she has had enough, and takes Tommy to the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the examination, the doctor said, "His unit is too small. An old wives' tale is to give him two slices of toast each morning, and his unit will grow so he can hold it and aim straight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Tommy jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen. There on the table, are twelve slices of toast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom!" Tommy yells. "The doctor said I only had to eat two slices of toast."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know." said his mother. "The other ten are for your father."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-1224091172996574538?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/1224091172996574538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=1224091172996574538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1224091172996574538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1224091172996574538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/10-slices-of-toast.html' title='10 Slices of Toast'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-554108676531539719</id><published>2008-06-04T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T08:44:29.855-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Ugly Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A middle-aged couple, with two beautiful daughters, decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted.&lt;br /&gt;Soon, the wife became pregnant, and, nine months later, delivered a baby boy.&lt;br /&gt;The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son, but was horrified to find an incredibly-ugly baby.&lt;br /&gt;He went to his wife and said, "I cannot possibly be the father of that hideous child. Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When his wife blushed, he became suspicious, and demanded, "Have you been fooling around on me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife confessed, "Not this time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-554108676531539719?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/554108676531539719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=554108676531539719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/554108676531539719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/554108676531539719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/ugly-baby.html' title='Ugly Baby'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-25370346569066712</id><published>2008-06-04T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T08:39:47.142-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Work Accident</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Merv was in a terrible accident at work. He fell through a floor tile and ripped off both of his ears. Since he was permanently disfigured, he settled with the company for a rather large sum of money and went on his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Merv decided to invest his money in a small, but growing telecom business called Plexus Communications. After weeks of negotiations, he bought the company outright. But, after signing on the doted line he realized that he knew nothing about running such a business and quickly set out to hire someone who could do that for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day he had set up three interviews. The first guy was great. He knew everything he needed to and was very interesting. At the end of the interview, Merv asked him, "Do you notice anything different about me?" And the gentleman answered, "Why yes, I couldn't help but notice you have no ears."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merv got very angry and threw him out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second interview was with a woman, and she was even better than the first guy. He asked her the same question, "Do you notice anything different about me?" and she replied: "Well, you have no ears."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merv again was upset and tossed her out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third and last interview was the best of all three. It was with a very young man who was fresh out of college. He was smart. He was handsome and he seemed to be a better businessman than the first two put together. Merv was anxious, but went ahead and asked the young man the same question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you notice anything different about me?" And to his surprise, the young man answered: "Yes. You wear contact lenses." Merv was shocked, and said, "What an incredibly observant young man. How in the world did you know that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young man fell off his chair laughing hysterically and replied, "Well, it's pretty damn hard to wear glasses with no ears!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-25370346569066712?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/25370346569066712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=25370346569066712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/25370346569066712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/25370346569066712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/work-accident.html' title='Work Accident'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-3623566934831427771</id><published>2008-06-04T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T08:36:42.745-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>The Maid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy dials his home phone from work. A strange woman answers.&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "Who is this?"&lt;br /&gt;"This is the maid.", answered the woman.&lt;br /&gt;"We don't have a maid!"&lt;br /&gt;"I was just hired this morning by the lady of the house."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, this is her husband. Is she there?"&lt;br /&gt;"Ummm .... she's upstairs in the bedroom with someone who I just figured was her husband."&lt;br /&gt;The guy is fuming. He says to the maid, "Listen, would you like to make $50,000?"&lt;br /&gt;"What do I have to do?"&lt;br /&gt;"I want you to get my gun from my desk in the den and shoot that witch and the jerk she is with."&lt;br /&gt;The maid puts down the phone. The guy hears footsteps, followed by two gunshots.&lt;br /&gt;The maid comes back to the phone. "What should I do with the bodies?"&lt;br /&gt;"Throw them in the swimming pool!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?! There's no pool here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long pause... "Uh .... is this 832-4821?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-3623566934831427771?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/3623566934831427771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=3623566934831427771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3623566934831427771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3623566934831427771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/maid.html' title='The Maid'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4981499499495366477</id><published>2008-06-03T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T04:06:54.084-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband n Wife'/><title type='text'>The Frying Pan</title><content type='html'>A man was sitting quietly reading his paper one morning, peacefully enjoying himself, when his wife sneaks up behind him and whacks him on the back of his head with a huge frying pan.&lt;br /&gt;Man: "What was that for?"&lt;br /&gt;Wife: "What was that piece of paper in your pants pocket with the name Marylou written on it?"&lt;br /&gt;Man: "Oh honey, remember two weeks ago when I went to the horse races? Marylou was the name of one of the horses I bet on."&lt;br /&gt;The wife looked all satisfied, apologizes, and goes off to do work around the house.&lt;br /&gt;Three days later he is once again sitting in his chair reading and she repeats the frying pan swatting.&lt;br /&gt;Man: "What was that for this time?"&lt;br /&gt;Wife: "Your horse phoned."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4981499499495366477?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4981499499495366477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4981499499495366477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4981499499495366477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4981499499495366477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/frying-pan.html' title='The Frying Pan'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4579302475746767705</id><published>2008-06-03T04:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T04:02:35.472-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Breakfast Order</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A resident in a seaside hotel breakfast room called over the head waiter one morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want two boiled eggs, one of them so undercooked it's runny, and the other so over cooked, it's tough and hard to eat. Also, grilled bacon that has been left on the plate to get cold; burnt toast that crumbles away as soon as you touch it with a knife; butter straight from the deep freeze, so that it's impossible to spread; and a pot of very weak coffee, lukewarm."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's a complicated order, sir," said the bewildered waiter. "It might be quite difficult."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guest replied, "Oh, but that's what you gave me yesterday!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4579302475746767705?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4579302475746767705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4579302475746767705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4579302475746767705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4579302475746767705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/06/breakfast-order.html' title='Breakfast Order'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8982432914715274021</id><published>2008-05-31T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T05:19:51.291-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Lipstick Girls</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A principal of a small middle school had a problem with a few of the older girls starting to use lipstick. When applying it in the bathroom they would then press their lips to the mirror and leave lip prints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before it got out of hand he thought of a way to stop it. He gathered all the girls together that wore lipstick and told them he wanted to meet with them in the ladies room at 2pm. They gathered at 2pm and found the principal and the school custodian waiting for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The principal explained that it was becoming a problem for the custodian to clean the mirror every night. He said he felt the ladies did not fully understand just how much of a problem it was and he wanted them to witness just how hard it was to clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The custodian then demonstrated. He took a long brush on a handle out of a box. He then dipped the brush in the nearest toilet, moved to the mirror and proceeded to remove the lipstick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the last day the girls pressed their lips on the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8982432914715274021?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8982432914715274021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8982432914715274021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8982432914715274021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8982432914715274021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/lipstick-girls.html' title='Lipstick Girls'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8890413878677418579</id><published>2008-05-31T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T04:56:54.110-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Lion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SEE868jhDkI/AAAAAAAAAyE/bAZyq2wRGas/s1600-h/lion.h1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SEE868jhDkI/AAAAAAAAAyE/bAZyq2wRGas/s200/lion.h1.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206509627602177602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lion wakes up in the jungle and finds that a tool is missing, he goes to elephant and asks "Have you seen my tool?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elephant replies "What does it look like?"&lt;br /&gt;Lion: "Well it's got four points on it"&lt;br /&gt;Elephant: "Sorry, I haven't seen it, try mouse"&lt;br /&gt;So the Lion goes to the mouse and asks "Have you seen my tool?"&lt;br /&gt;Mouse: "What does it look like?"&lt;br /&gt;Lion: "Well it's got four points on it."&lt;br /&gt;Mouse: "Sorry mate, I've not seen it, try croc."&lt;br /&gt;So the lion proceeds to the crocodile and asks "Have you seen my tool"&lt;br /&gt;Croc: "What does it look like?"&lt;br /&gt;Lion: "Well it's got four points on it."&lt;br /&gt;Croc: "Sorry I've not seen it, try Jaguar"&lt;br /&gt;So the lion goes to Jaguar and asks "Have you seen my tool?"&lt;br /&gt;Jaguar: "Of course, I ate it."&lt;br /&gt;Lion: "Why did you do that?"&lt;br /&gt;Jaguar: "Well I'm a four point tool eater Jaguar"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8890413878677418579?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8890413878677418579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8890413878677418579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8890413878677418579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8890413878677418579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/lion.html' title='The Lion'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SEE868jhDkI/AAAAAAAAAyE/bAZyq2wRGas/s72-c/lion.h1.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8678974226280439366</id><published>2008-05-31T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T04:50:51.571-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Lucky Frog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SEE7b8jhDjI/AAAAAAAAAx8/cQfr5bRCBhg/s1600-h/FROG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 144px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SEE7b8jhDjI/AAAAAAAAAx8/cQfr5bRCBhg/s320/FROG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206507995514605106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man takes the day off work and decides to go out golfing. He is on the second hole when he notices a frog sitting next to the green. He thinks nothing of it and is about to shoot when he hears, "Ribbit. 9- Iron".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man looks around and doesn't see anyone. "Ribbit. 9-Iron." He looks at the frog and decides to prove the frog wrong. He puts his other club away, and grabs a 9-iron. Boom! he hits it 10 inches from the cup. He is shocked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says to the frog, "Wow that's amazing. You must be a lucky frog, eh?" The frog replies "Ribbit. Lucky frog." The man decides to take the frog with him to the next hole. "What do you think frog?" the man asks. "Ribbit. 3-wood."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy takes out a 3-wood, and boom! A hole in one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man is befuddled and doesn't know what to say. By the end of the day, the man has golfed the best game of golf in his life and asks the frog, "OK where to next?" The frog replies, "Ribbit. Las Vegas." They go to Las Vegas and the guy says, "OK frog, now what?" The frog says, "Ribbit. Roulette."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon approaching the roulette table, the man asks, "What do you think I should bet?" The frog replies, "Ribbit. $3000,black 6." Now, this is a million-to-one shot to win, but after the golf game, the man figures what the heck. Boom - tons of cash come sliding back across the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man takes his winnings and buys the best room in the hotel. He sits the frog down and says, "Frog, I don't know how to repay you. You've won me all this money and I am forever grateful." The frog replies, "Ribbit, Kiss Me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He figures, Why not? After all the frog did for him, it is a small price to pay. With the kiss, however, the frog turns into a gorgeous 15-year-old girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And that, your honor, is how the girl ended up in my room."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8678974226280439366?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8678974226280439366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8678974226280439366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8678974226280439366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8678974226280439366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/lucky-frog.html' title='Lucky Frog'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SEE7b8jhDjI/AAAAAAAAAx8/cQfr5bRCBhg/s72-c/FROG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4925139276373039499</id><published>2008-05-31T04:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T04:40:23.673-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><title type='text'>Reasonable Doubt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A defendant was on trial for murder in Oklahoma. There was strong evidence indicating guilt, but there was no corpse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the defense’s closing statement the lawyer, knowing that his client would probably be convicted, resorted to a trick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have a surprise for you all," the lawyer said as he looked at his watch. "Within one minute, the person presumed dead in this case will walk into this courtroom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked toward the courtroom door. The jurors, somewhat stunned, all looked on eagerly. A minute passed. Nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the lawyer said, "Actually, I made up the previous statement. But you all looked on with anticipation. I, therefore, put it to you that there is reasonable doubt in this case as to whether anyone was killed and insist that you return a verdict of not guilty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The jury, clearly confused, retired to deliberate. A few minutes later, the jury returned and pronounced a verdict of guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But how?" inquired the lawyer. "You must have had some doubt; I saw all of you stare at the door."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answered the jury foreman: "Oh, we did look. But your client didn’t."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4925139276373039499?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4925139276373039499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4925139276373039499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4925139276373039499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4925139276373039499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/reasonable-doubt.html' title='Reasonable Doubt'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-1295092847093254770</id><published>2008-05-31T04:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T04:40:10.834-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><title type='text'>The Kind Lawyer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One afternoon, a wealthy lawyer was riding in the back of his limousine when he saw two men eating grass by the road side. He ordered his driver to stop and he got out to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you eating grass?" he asked one man.&lt;br /&gt;"We don't have any money for food." the poor man replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, come along with me then."&lt;br /&gt;"But sir, I have a wife with two children!"&lt;br /&gt;"Bring them along! And you, come with us too!", he said to the other man.&lt;br /&gt;"But sir, I have a wife with six children!" the second man answered.&lt;br /&gt;"Bring them as well!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all climbed into the car, which was no easy task, even for a car as large as the limo. Once underway, one of the poor fellows says, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer replied, "No problem, the grass at my home is about two feet tall!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-1295092847093254770?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/1295092847093254770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=1295092847093254770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1295092847093254770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1295092847093254770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/kind-lawyer.html' title='The Kind Lawyer'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4421788253552891400</id><published>2008-05-29T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T09:54:04.762-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>A Letter To My Dogs &amp; Cats</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7fjcjhDWI/AAAAAAAAAwM/SCTN6b39bg4/s1600-h/cat+dog+bird.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 214px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7fjcjhDWI/AAAAAAAAAwM/SCTN6b39bg4/s320/cat+dog+bird.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205844019340447074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Dogs and Cats,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate of food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years - canine or feline attendance is not mandatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Like to Complain About Our Pets:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. They live here. You don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture (That's why they call it "fur"niture.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I like my pets a lot better than most people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogs and cats are better than kids .they eat less, don't ask for money all the time, are easier to train, usually come when called, never drive your car, don't hang out with drug-using friends, don't smoke or drink, don't worry about having to buy the latest fashions, don't wear your clothes, and don't need a gazillion dollars for college - and if they get pregnant, you can sell their children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4421788253552891400?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4421788253552891400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4421788253552891400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4421788253552891400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4421788253552891400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/letter-to-my-dogs-cats.html' title='A Letter To My Dogs &amp; Cats'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7fjcjhDWI/AAAAAAAAAwM/SCTN6b39bg4/s72-c/cat+dog+bird.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-6516183086070662435</id><published>2008-05-29T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T09:49:14.576-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Kittens</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7eWcjhDVI/AAAAAAAAAwE/PdiViPauZC4/s1600-h/1194989792187841101kitten_gerald_g._01.svg.hi.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 181px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7eWcjhDVI/AAAAAAAAAwE/PdiViPauZC4/s320/1194989792187841101kitten_gerald_g._01.svg.hi.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205842696490519890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying. On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem. Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. "Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it." "You know where the button is, "I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second" So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there,done-that" paramedics. Even worse, having being fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work,all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter... and not succeeding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they only knew.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-6516183086070662435?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/6516183086070662435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=6516183086070662435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6516183086070662435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6516183086070662435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/kittens.html' title='Kittens'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7eWcjhDVI/AAAAAAAAAwE/PdiViPauZC4/s72-c/1194989792187841101kitten_gerald_g._01.svg.hi.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-6026207975729610975</id><published>2008-05-29T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T09:45:08.600-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Sick Duck</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7dfcjhDUI/AAAAAAAAAv8/80BjPTaLSng/s1600-h/duck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7dfcjhDUI/AAAAAAAAAv8/80BjPTaLSng/s400/duck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205841751597714754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man took his old duck to the Doctor, concerned because the duck wouldn't eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor explained to the man that as ducks age their upper bills grow down over their lower bills and make it difficult for the animal to pick up it's food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What you need to do is gently file the upper bill down even with the lower bill. But you must be extra careful because the duck's nostrils are located in the upper bill and if you file down too far, when the duck takes a drink of water it'll drown."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man goes about his business and about a week later the Doctor runs into his patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, how is that duck of yours?" the Doctor inquires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's dead." declared the heartbroken man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I told you not to file his upper bill down too far! He took a drink of water and drowned didn't he?" insisted the Doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." lamented the man. "I think he was dead before I took him out of the vise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-6026207975729610975?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/6026207975729610975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=6026207975729610975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6026207975729610975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6026207975729610975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/sick-duck.html' title='Sick Duck'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD7dfcjhDUI/AAAAAAAAAv8/80BjPTaLSng/s72-c/duck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4156351941032951563</id><published>2008-05-28T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T10:47:21.893-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Meet her Parents</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD2aiMjhDTI/AAAAAAAAAv0/bMeozrzYR2A/s1600-h/meet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD2aiMjhDTI/AAAAAAAAAv0/bMeozrzYR2A/s400/meet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205486656586583346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A young woman brings home her fiancee to meet her parents. After dinner, her mother tells her father to find out about the young man. The father invites the fiancee to his study for a drink. "So what are your plans?" the father asks the young man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am a Torah scholar," he replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A Torah scholar. Hmmm," the father says. "Admirable, but what will you do to provide a nice house for my daughter to live in, as she's accustomed to?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will study," the young man replies, "and God will provide for us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And how will you buy her a beautiful engagement ring, such as she deserves?" asks the father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will concentrate on my studies," the young man replies, "God will provide for us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And children?" asks the father. "How will you support children?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry, sir, God will provide," replies the fiancee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation proceeds like this, and each time the father questions, the young idealist insists that God will provide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, the mother asks, "How did it go, Honey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father answers, "He has no job and no plans, but the good news is he thinks I'm God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4156351941032951563?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4156351941032951563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4156351941032951563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4156351941032951563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4156351941032951563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/meet-her-parents.html' title='Meet her Parents'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD2aiMjhDTI/AAAAAAAAAv0/bMeozrzYR2A/s72-c/meet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8879324632031529833</id><published>2008-05-28T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T10:23:10.240-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Three Wishes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD2TwcjhDSI/AAAAAAAAAvs/-UANHuLrQgM/s1600-h/three-wishes-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD2TwcjhDSI/AAAAAAAAAvs/-UANHuLrQgM/s400/three-wishes-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205479204818324770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A woman was cleaning her attic with her cat by her side for company. Amongst the boxes and old papers she found a little lamp. She picked it up and wiped it off with her apron, when "POOF" out popped Genie. "I will grant you three wishes" proclaimed the Genie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman thought for a moment and said "I wish I was the most beautiful 20 year old woman in the world, I wish I had more money than I knew what to do with, and I wish you would turn my cat into the most handsome prince around."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Genie nodded and after a huge cloud of dust cleared, the Genie was gone and so was the lamp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman looked at herself and she was certainly beautiful. She was surrounded with scads of money in Large Bills. She flung an armful in the air and watched it flutter down around her. She giggled with delight at the mountains of cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she turned to look where her adoring cat once stood. There in the feline's place stood a tall, dark, handsome man with chiseled features, a washboard stomach, broad shoulders, and a soccer-players-tush. She walked over to him, he put his arms around her, brushed his hand upon her cheek, looked deep into her eyes and whispered softly, "Now, aren't you sorry that you had me neutered?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8879324632031529833?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8879324632031529833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8879324632031529833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8879324632031529833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8879324632031529833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/three-wishes.html' title='Three Wishes'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SD2TwcjhDSI/AAAAAAAAAvs/-UANHuLrQgM/s72-c/three-wishes-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-2866528764784783386</id><published>2008-05-27T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T21:00:55.765-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Vampire Bat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDzY3cjhDJI/AAAAAAAAAuk/eAsiogn5WMI/s1600-h/bat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDzY3cjhDJI/AAAAAAAAAuk/eAsiogn5WMI/s400/bat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205273716403014802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vampire bat came flapping in from the night covered in fresh blood and parked himself on the roof of the cave to get some sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty soon all the other bats smelt the blood and began hassling him about where he got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told them to go way ! And let him get some sleep, but they persisted until he finally gave in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, follow me," he said and flew out of the cave with hundreds of bats behind him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down through a valley they went, across a river and into a forest of trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally he slowed down and all the other bats excitedly milled around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now, do you see that tree over there?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Yes, Yes!" the bats all screamed in a frenzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good!" said the first bat, "Because I didn't!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-2866528764784783386?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/2866528764784783386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=2866528764784783386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2866528764784783386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2866528764784783386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/vampire-bat.html' title='The Vampire Bat'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDzY3cjhDJI/AAAAAAAAAuk/eAsiogn5WMI/s72-c/bat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8629772074905629940</id><published>2008-05-27T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T20:56:53.785-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Blind Bunny</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDzX2sjhDII/AAAAAAAAAuc/PoR_O8hq1xs/s1600-h/Bunny-Step-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 217px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDzX2sjhDII/AAAAAAAAAuc/PoR_O8hq1xs/s400/Bunny-Step-10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205272604006485122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One morning a blind bunny was hopping down the bunny trail, and he tripped over a large snake and fell, KerPlop!, right on his twitchy little nose. "Oh, please excuse me!" said the bunny. "I didn't mean to trip over you, but I'm blind and can't see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's perfectly all right," replied the snake. "To be sure, it was my fault. I didn't mean to trip you, but I'm blind too, and I didn't see you coming. By the way, what kind of animal are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I really don't know," said the bunny. "I'm blind, and I've never seen myself. Maybe you could examine me and find out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the snake felt the bunny all over, and he said, "Well, you're soft, and cuddly, and you have long silky ears, and a little fluffy tail and a dear twitchy little nose... You must be a bunny rabbit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he said, "I can't thank you enough, but by the way, what kind of animal are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the snake replied that he didn't know, and the bunny agreed to examine him, and when he was finished, the snake said, "Well, what kind of an animal am I?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the bunny felt the snake all over, and he replied, "You're hard, you're cold, you're slimy and you haven't got any balls... You must be a lawyer."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8629772074905629940?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8629772074905629940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8629772074905629940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8629772074905629940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8629772074905629940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/blind-bunny.html' title='Blind Bunny'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDzX2sjhDII/AAAAAAAAAuc/PoR_O8hq1xs/s72-c/Bunny-Step-10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-2060231760271255589</id><published>2008-05-26T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T09:46:44.497-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Too Tired to Go On</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were three people stranded on an island, a Brunette, a Redhead and a Blonde. The Brunette looked over the water to the mainland and estimated about 20 miles to shore. So she announced, "I'm going to try to swim to shore." She swam out five miles, and got really tired. She swam out ten miles from the island, and she was too tired to go on, so she drowned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one, the Redhead, said to herself, "I wonder if she made it. I guess it's better to try to get to the mainland than stay here and starve." So she attempts to swim out. The Redhead had a lot more endurance than the Brunette, as she swam out 10 miles before she even got tired. After 15 miles, she was too tired to go on, so she drowned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Blonde thought to herself, "I wonder if they made it! I think I'd better try to make it, too." So she swam out 5 miles, ten miles, 15 miles, NINETEEN miles from the island. The shore was just in sight, but she said, "I'm too tired to go on!" So she swam back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-2060231760271255589?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/2060231760271255589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=2060231760271255589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2060231760271255589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/2060231760271255589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/there-were-three-people-stranded-on.html' title='Too Tired to Go On'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-4522718170769013128</id><published>2008-05-26T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T09:44:09.198-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Shopping Trip In China</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man on a business trip to China wanted to buy some gifts for his kids. He went to a shop and found a nice looking CD player. Worry of buying inferior goods, he asked the shopkeeper, 'What would happen if this does not work?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shopkeeper quietly pointed to the only sign in English that read,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'GUARANTEE NO SPOIL'&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling assured, he paid for the CD player and returned to his hotel. He tried to use the CD player but it would not even switch on. He quickly returned to the shop and asked for a refund or an exchange for another unit. When the shopkeeper refused to give either, the man pointed to the sign assuring him of a guarantee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shopkeeper then said, 'Brother, you are in China. We read from the right to the left.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-4522718170769013128?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/4522718170769013128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=4522718170769013128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4522718170769013128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/4522718170769013128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/shopping-trip-in-china.html' title='Shopping Trip In China'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-7455572177529227253</id><published>2008-05-26T02:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T02:53:55.261-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><title type='text'>The World's first Profession</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDqIh8jhCkI/AAAAAAAAAp8/mBhdxPNoMuw/s1600-h/lawyer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDqIh8jhCkI/AAAAAAAAAp8/mBhdxPNoMuw/s400/lawyer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204622436152183362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A doctor, and engineer, a rabbi and a lawyer were debating who was the world's first professional.&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor said "It must have been a doctor. Who else could have helpd with the world's first surgery of taking a rib from Adam to create Eve, the first woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the rabbi. "It must have been a rabbi, since the Lord needed someone to help preach his message to Adam and the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wait," Said the engineer "The world was created in 6 days from nothing. Do you know what a master engineering feat that must have been to create the whole world into an orgnanized civilized place from utter choas?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And WHO created the chaos?" said the lawyer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-7455572177529227253?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/7455572177529227253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=7455572177529227253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7455572177529227253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/7455572177529227253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/worlds-first-profession.html' title='The World&apos;s first Profession'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDqIh8jhCkI/AAAAAAAAAp8/mBhdxPNoMuw/s72-c/lawyer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-3694826750635765244</id><published>2008-05-26T02:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T02:45:42.598-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Rude Parrot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDqGOMjhCjI/AAAAAAAAAp0/7-4fbnaLLNk/s1600-h/parrot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDqGOMjhCjI/AAAAAAAAAp0/7-4fbnaLLNk/s400/parrot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204619897826511410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;David received a parrot for his birthday. The parrot was fully grown with a bad attitude and worse vocabulary. Every other word was an obscenity. Those that weren't expletives, were to say the least, rude. David tried hard to change the bird's attitude and was constantly saying polite words, playing soft music, anything he could think of. Nothing worked. He yelled at the bird and the bird yelled back. He shocked the bird and the bird just got more angry and more rude. Finally, in a moment of desperation, David put the bird in the freezer, just for a few moments. He heard the bird squawk and kick and scream-then suddenly, there was quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David was frightened that he might have hurt the bird and quickly opened the freezer door. The parrot calmly stepped out and said "I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I'll endeavor at once to correct my behavior. I really am truly sorry and beg your forgiveness." David was astonished at the bird's change in attitude and was about to ask what had made such a dramatic change when the parrot continued, "May I ask what did the chicken do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-3694826750635765244?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/3694826750635765244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=3694826750635765244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3694826750635765244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/3694826750635765244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/rude-parrot.html' title='The Rude Parrot'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDqGOMjhCjI/AAAAAAAAAp0/7-4fbnaLLNk/s72-c/parrot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-5987585451603927460</id><published>2008-05-25T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T04:07:20.898-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband n Wife'/><title type='text'>Sex In The Dark</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this couple that had been married for 20 years. Every time they made love the husband always insisted on shutting off the light. Well, after 20 years the wife felt this was ridiculous. She figured she would break him out of this crazy habit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one night, while they were in the middle of a wild, screaming, romantic session, she turned on the lights. She looked down... and saw her husband was holding a battery-operated pleasure device.. a vibrator!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soft, wonderful and larger than a real one. She went completely ballistic. 'You impotent bastard,' She screamed at him, 'How could you be lying to me all of these years? You better explain yourself!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband looks her straight in the eyes and says calmly: 'I'll explain the toy ..... you explain the kids.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-5987585451603927460?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/5987585451603927460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=5987585451603927460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/5987585451603927460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/5987585451603927460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/sex-in-dark.html' title='Sex In The Dark'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-6858735546584230763</id><published>2008-05-24T05:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T05:17:57.779-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><title type='text'>Detective Chen Lee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDgGkMjhBpI/AAAAAAAAAig/dPUENUsPCGs/s1600-h/police.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDgGkMjhBpI/AAAAAAAAAig/dPUENUsPCGs/s400/police.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203916588341855890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A man suspected his wife was seeing another man, so he hired the famous Chinese detective, Chen Lee, to watch and report any activities while he was gone. A few days later, he received this report:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOST HONORABLE SIR:&lt;br /&gt;YOU LEAVE HOUSE&lt;br /&gt;I WATCH HOUSE&lt;br /&gt;HE COME TO HOUSE. I WATCH.&lt;br /&gt;HE AND SHE LEAVE HOUSE. I FOLLOW.&lt;br /&gt;HE AND SHE GO IN HOTEL. I CLIMB TREE.&lt;br /&gt;I LOOK IN WINDOW.&lt;br /&gt;HE KISS SHE. SHE KISS HE.&lt;br /&gt;HE STRIP SHE. SHE STRIP HE.&lt;br /&gt;HE PLAY WITH SHE. SHE PLAY WITH HE.&lt;br /&gt;I PLAY WITH ME. I FALL OUT OF TREE. I NOT SEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO FEE,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHEN LEE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-6858735546584230763?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/6858735546584230763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=6858735546584230763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6858735546584230763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/6858735546584230763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/detective-chen-lee.html' title='Detective Chen Lee'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDgGkMjhBpI/AAAAAAAAAig/dPUENUsPCGs/s72-c/police.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-8567425694823226347</id><published>2008-05-24T03:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T04:07:43.264-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband n Wife'/><title type='text'>The Helpful Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDftKMjhBjI/AAAAAAAAAho/XhgqVB-Vyck/s1600-h/driver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDftKMjhBjI/AAAAAAAAAho/XhgqVB-Vyck/s200/driver.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203888653874562610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;A male driver is pulled over by a cop and the following conversation takes place:&lt;br /&gt;Man: What's the problem officer?&lt;br /&gt;Cop: You were going at least 75 in a 55 zone.&lt;br /&gt;Man: No sir, I was going 65.&lt;br /&gt;Wife: Oh Harry. You were going 80.&lt;br /&gt;(Man gives his wife a dirty look.)&lt;br /&gt;Cop: I'm also going to give you a ticket for your broken tail light.&lt;br /&gt;Man: Broken tail light? I didn't know about a broken tail light!&lt;br /&gt;Wife: Oh Harry, you've known about that tail light for weeks.&lt;br /&gt;(Man gives his wife a dirty look.)&lt;br /&gt;Cop: I'm also going to give you a citation for not wearing your seat belt.&lt;br /&gt;Man: Oh, I just took it off when you were walking up to the car.&lt;br /&gt;Wife: Oh  Harry, you never wear your seat belt.&lt;br /&gt;Man: Shut your mouth, woman!&lt;br /&gt;Cop: Ma'am, does your husband always talk to you this way?&lt;br /&gt;Wife: No, only when he's drunk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-8567425694823226347?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/8567425694823226347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=8567425694823226347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8567425694823226347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/8567425694823226347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/helpful-wife.html' title='The Helpful Wife'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDftKMjhBjI/AAAAAAAAAho/XhgqVB-Vyck/s72-c/driver.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259110272740597042.post-1810944395788875321</id><published>2008-05-23T02:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T04:08:16.040-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband n Wife'/><title type='text'>A Great Explanation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDaNKMjhBgI/AAAAAAAAAg8/ziBUxJ0I_Xo/s1600-h/wife.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDaNKMjhBgI/AAAAAAAAAg8/ziBUxJ0I_Xo/s400/wife.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203501625781585410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The wife came home early and found her husband in their bedroom making love to a very attractive young woman. And she was somewhat upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You are a disrespectful pig!' she cried 'How dare you do this to me -- a faithful wife, the mother of your children! I'm leaving you. I want a divorce right away!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the husband replied, 'Hang on just a minute, love, so at least I can tell you what happened.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Fine, go ahead,' she sobbed,' but they'll be the last words you'll say to me!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the husband began -- 'Well, I was getting into the car to drive home, and this young lady here asked me for a lift. She looked so down and out and defenseless that I took pity on her and let her into the car. I noticed that she was very thin, not well dressed and very dirty. She told me that she hadn't eaten for three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in my compassion, I brought her home and warmed up the enchiladas I made for you last night, the ones you wouldn't eat because you're afraid you'll put on weight! The poor thing devoured them in moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since she needed a good clean-up, I suggested a shower, and while she was doing that, I noticed her clothes were dirty and full of holes, so I threw them away. Then, as she needed clothes, I gave her the designer jeans that you have had for a few years, but don't use because you say they are too tight. I also gave her the underwear that was your anniversary present, which you don't use because you tell me I don't have good taste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the sexy blouse my sister gave you for Christmas that you don't use just to annoy her, and I also donated those boots you bought at the expensive boutique and don't use because someone at work has a pair the same.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband took a quick breath and continued - 'She was so grateful for my understanding and help that as I walked her to the door, she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Please ... Do you have anything else that your wife doesn't use...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6259110272740597042-1810944395788875321?l=keira-joke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/feeds/1810944395788875321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6259110272740597042&amp;postID=1810944395788875321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1810944395788875321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6259110272740597042/posts/default/1810944395788875321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keira-joke.blogspot.com/2008/05/great-explanation.html' title='A Great Explanation'/><author><name>Keira</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_TnOIL5jzEYc/SDaNKMjhBgI/AAAAAAAAAg8/ziBUxJ0I_Xo/s72-c/wife.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
