<?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-2778645937008886492</id><updated>2012-02-16T20:09:07.374-08:00</updated><category term='jokes'/><category term='little johnny jokess'/><category term='funny'/><category term='humor'/><title type='text'>TICKLE ME WITH JOKES</title><subtitle type='html'>Tickle me with jokes is a joke blog of jokes,funny pictures.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>91</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-7558163125421161317</id><published>2009-12-09T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T09:47:38.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pastor and the Donkey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;A Pastor wanted to raise money for his church and on being told that there was a fortune in horse racing, decided to purchase one and enter it in the races.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However at the local auction, the going price for a horse was so high that he ended up buying a donkey instead. He figured since he had it, he might as well go ahead and enter it in the races. To his surprise, the donkey came in third.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the local paper carried this headline: PASTOR'S ASS SHOWS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and this time it won. The local paper read: PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the local paper read: BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was too much for the Bishop, so he ordered the Pastor to get rid of the donkey. The Pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent. The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day:&lt;br /&gt;NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-7558163125421161317?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7558163125421161317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=7558163125421161317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7558163125421161317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7558163125421161317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/12/pastor-and-donkey.html' title='The Pastor and the Donkey'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3345856087285797864</id><published>2009-11-12T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T15:41:09.518-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little johnny jokess'/><title type='text'>Learning About Medicines</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;At school little Johnny's class is learning about medicines. Sister Catherine, the teacher, asks the pupils what kind of medicines they know and what they are used for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first pupil said: 'Tylenol?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Very good! And what is it used for?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'It is used for a headache.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second pupil said: 'Nytol.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Excellent!' said Sister Catherine. 'And what it is used for?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'To help you sleep', replied the student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it is Johnny's turn and he said: 'Viagra.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'And what is it used for, Johnny?' asked the surprised Sister catherine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'It is used for diarrhea.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'And who told you this, Johnny?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Nobody, but every evening my mother tells my father 'take a viagra, and maybe that shit will get harder.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3345856087285797864?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3345856087285797864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3345856087285797864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3345856087285797864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3345856087285797864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/learning-about-medicines.html' title='Learning About Medicines'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3954516633110167874</id><published>2009-07-10T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T08:09:48.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Before Sex</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;The doc told him that masturbating before sex often helped men last longer during the act. The man decided, "What the hell, I'll try it, "He spent the rest of the day thinking about where to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He couldn't do it in his office. He thought about the restroom, but that was too open. He considered an alley, but figured that was too unsafe. Finally, he realized his solution. On his way home, he pulled his truck over on the side of the highway. He got out and crawled underneath as if he was examining the truck. Satisfied with the privacy, he undid his pants and started to masturbate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He closed his eyes and thought of his lover. As he grew closer to orgasm, he felt a quick tug at the bottom of his pants. Not wanting to lose his mental fantasy or the orgasm, he kept his eyes shut and replied, "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He heard, "This is the police. What's going on down there?"&lt;br /&gt;The man replied, "I'm checking out the rear axle, it's busted."&lt;br /&gt;Came the reply,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you might as well check your brakes too while you're down there, because your truck rolled down the hill 5 minutes ago."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3954516633110167874?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3954516633110167874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3954516633110167874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3954516633110167874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3954516633110167874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/07/before-sex.html' title='Before Sex'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8696827462191126345</id><published>2009-07-05T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T04:23:26.403-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>The Robot Secretary</title><content type='html'>Two friends meet in the office of one of them, a notorious techo-geek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, bud, how are ya?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm good. Congratulations, that new secretary of yours is beautiful!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'm glad you like her. Believe it or not, she's a robot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No way, how could that be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Way! She's the latest model from Japan. Lemme tell you how she works. If you squeeze her left tit, she takes dictation. If you squeeze her right tit, she types a letter. And that's not all, she can have sex, too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Holy shit! You're kidding, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, she's something, huh? Tell you what, you can even borrow her"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, his friend takes her into the restroom and is in there with her for a while. Suddenly, he hears him screaming "Eeeeyaaaaa! Heeelp" Ooooooh! Aaaaah Eeeeeeeeeeeaaargghhhh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "Shit! I forgot to tell him her ass is a pencil sharpener!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8696827462191126345?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8696827462191126345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8696827462191126345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8696827462191126345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8696827462191126345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/07/robot-secretary.html' title='The Robot Secretary'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3889795293480120567</id><published>2009-06-25T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T05:27:45.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man's Wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;A man was sick and tired of going to work every day while his wife stayed home. He wanted her to see what he went through so he prayed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear Lord: I go to work every day and put in 8 hours while my wife merely stays at home. I want her to know what I go through, so please allow her body to switch with mine for a day. Amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, in his infinite wisdom, granted the man's wish. The next morning, sure enough, the man awoke as a woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He arose, cooked breakfast for his mate, awakened the kids,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Set out their school clothes, fed them breakfast, packed their lunches,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drove them to school, came home and picked up the dry cleaning, took it to the cleaners&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And stopped at the bank to make a deposit, went grocery shopping,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Then drove home to put away the groceries,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paid the bills and balanced the checkbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He cleaned the cat's litter box and bathed the dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was already 1 P.M. and he hurried to make the beds, do the laundry, vacuum, dust, and sweep and mop the kitchen floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ran to the school to pick up the kids and got into an argument with them on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Set out milk and cookies and got the kids organized to do their homework,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then set up the ironing board and watched TV while he did the ironing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 4:30 he began peeling potatoes and washing vegetables for salad, breaded the pork chops and snapped fresh beans for supper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After supper, he cleaned the kitchen, ran the dishwasher, folded laundry, bathed the kids, and put them to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 9 P.M. he was exhausted and, though his daily chores weren't finished, he went to bed where he was expected to make love, which he managed to get through without complaint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, he awoke and immediately knelt by the bed and said, Lord, I don't know what I was thinking. I was so wrong to envy my wife's being able to stay home all day. Please, oh please, let us trade back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, replied, "My son, I feel you have learned your lesson and I will be happy to change things back to the way they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll just have to wait nine months, though. You got pregnant last night.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3889795293480120567?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3889795293480120567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3889795293480120567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3889795293480120567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3889795293480120567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/06/mans-wish.html' title='The Man&apos;s Wish'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8729250433568379291</id><published>2009-06-23T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T05:50:04.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Experimental Pill</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;A lady goes to the doctor and complains that her husband is losing interest in sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor gives her a pill, but warns her it is still experimental and tells her to slip it into his mashed potatoes at dinner. So, that night at dinner, she does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week later she's back at the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says, 'Doc, the pill worked great!! I put it in the potatoes like you said! It wasn't five minutes and he jumps up, rakes all the food and dishes on the floor, grabs me, rips all my clothes off and ravages me right there on the table!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says, 'I'm sorry, we didn't realize the pill was that strong. The foundation will be glad to pay for any damages.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Naah... ', she says, 'that's okay. We aren't going back to that Restaurant anyway.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8729250433568379291?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8729250433568379291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8729250433568379291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8729250433568379291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8729250433568379291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/06/experimental-pill.html' title='The Experimental Pill'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5378497871742293076</id><published>2009-06-12T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T15:13:29.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Alaskan Fishing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;The day after his wife disappeared in a kayaking accident, an Anchorage man answered his door to find two grim-faced Alaska State Troopers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're sorry Mr. Wilkens, but we have some information about your wife," said one trooper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me! Did you find her?!" Wilkens shouted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The troopers looked at each other. One said, "We have some bad news, some good news, and some really great news. Which do you want to hear first?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fearing the worst, an ashen Mr. Wilkens said, "Give me the bad news first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trooper said, "I'm sorry to tell you, sir, but this morning we found your wife's body in Kachemak Bay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my God!" exclaimed Wilkens. Swallowing hard, he asked, "what's the good news?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trooper continued, "When we pulled her up, she had 12 twenty-five pound king crabs and 6 good-size Dungeness crabs clinging to her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stunned, Mr. Wilkens demanded, "If that's the good news, what's the great news?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trooper said, "We're going to pull her up again tomorrow."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5378497871742293076?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5378497871742293076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5378497871742293076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5378497871742293076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5378497871742293076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-alaskan-fishing.html' title='Good Alaskan Fishing'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8314643643981051755</id><published>2009-06-08T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T03:23:11.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saving Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;A small tourist hotel was all a buzz about an afternoon wedding where the groom was 95 and the bride was 23.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groom looked pretty feeble and the feeling was that the wedding night might kill him, because his bride was a healthy, vivacious young woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But lo and behold, the next morning, the bride came down the main staircase slowly, step by step, hanging onto the banister for dear life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She finally managed to get to the counter  of the little shop in the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clerk looked really concerned, "Whatever happened to you, honey? You look like you've been wrestling an alligator!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bride groaned, hung on to the counter and managed to speak, "Ohhh God! He told me he'd been saving up for 75 years...I thought he meant his money!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8314643643981051755?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8314643643981051755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8314643643981051755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8314643643981051755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8314643643981051755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/06/saving-up.html' title='Saving Up'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8401288312399513317</id><published>2009-06-03T06:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T06:11:45.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Training</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;An Indian walks into a cafe with a shotgun in one hand pulling a bull with the other. He says to the waiter, "Me want coffee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter says, "Sure, Chief, coming right up." He gets the Indian a tall mug of coffee. The Indian drinks the coffee down in one gulp, turns and blasts the bull with the shotgun, causing parts of the animal to splatter everywhere, then he just walks out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning the Indian returns. He has his shotgun in one hand pulling another  bull with the other. He walks up to the counter and says to the waiter, "Me want coffee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter says, "Whoa, Tonto! We're still cleaning up your mess from yesterday. What was all that about, anyway?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Indian smiles and proudly says, "Me in training for position in United States Congress: come in, drink coffee, shoot the bull, leave the mess for others to clean up, disappear for rest of day.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8401288312399513317?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8401288312399513317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8401288312399513317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8401288312399513317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8401288312399513317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-training.html' title='In Training'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8165510746631988584</id><published>2009-05-23T05:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T05:06:32.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strip Joint</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 16px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Dave works hard at the plant and spends most evenings bowling or playing basketball at the gym. His wife thinks he is pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she takes him to a local strip club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doorman at the club greets them and says, "Hey, Dave, how ya doin?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife is puzzled and asks if he's been to this club before. "Oh no," says Dave. "He's on my bowling team."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they are seated, a waitress asks Dave if he'd like his usual Budweiser. His wife is becoming uncomfortable and says, "You must come here a lot for that woman to know you drink Budweiser".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, honey, she's in the Ladies Bowling League. We share lanes with them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A stripper comes over to their table and throws her arms around Dave. "Hi Davey," she says, "Want your usual table dance?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave's wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave follows and spots her getting into a cab. Before she can slam the door, he jumps in beside her and she starts screaming at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cabby turns his head and says, "Looks like you picked up a real bitch tonight, Dave."!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8165510746631988584?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8165510746631988584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8165510746631988584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8165510746631988584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8165510746631988584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/05/strip-joint.html' title='Strip Joint'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2170151194836554035</id><published>2009-04-22T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T06:45:27.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I called mine Sex</title><content type='html'>Everybody who has a dog calls him either Rover or Boy. I called mine Sex. Now Sex is a very embarassing name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I took Sex for a walk and he ran away from me. I spent hours looking for the dog. A cop came over to me and said, "What are you doing in this alley at 4:00 in the morning?" I said, "I'm looking for Sex." My case comes up Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I went to City Hall to get a dog license and told the clerk, "I would like to have a license for Sex!" He said, "I would like to have one too." Then I said, "But this is a dog." And he said he didn't care how she looked. Then I said, "You don't understand. I had Sex since I was two years old." He said, "You must have been a very strong baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told the Judge that when my husband and I separated, we went to Court to fight for custody of the dog. I said, "Your Honor, I had Sex before I was married." And...the Judge said, 'Me too." Then I told him that after I was married, Sex left me. And he said, "Me too." When I told him that I had Sex on TV, he said "Showoff." I told him that it was a contest and he told me I should have sold tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also told the Judge about the time when my husband and I were on our honeymoon and we took the dog, Sex. When I checked into the motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for my husband and I and a special room for Sex. The clerk told me that every room in the motel was for sex. Then I said, "You don't understand, Sex keeps me awake at night." And the clerk said, 'Me too.".....I give up !!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2170151194836554035?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2170151194836554035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2170151194836554035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2170151194836554035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2170151194836554035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-called-mine-sex.html' title='I called mine Sex'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5408677828031666014</id><published>2009-03-13T05:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T05:14:51.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Golf Facts</title><content type='html'>In primitive society, when native tribes beat the ground with clubs and yelled, it was called witchcraft; today, in civilized society, it is called golf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man who takes up golf to get his mind off his work soon takes up work to get his mind off golf. Golf was once a rich man's sport, but now it has millions of poor players!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golf is an expensive way of playing marbles. The secret of good golf is to hit the ball hard, straight and not too often. There are three ways to improve your golf game: take lessons, practice constantly -- or start cheating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An amateur golfer is one who addresses the ball twice - once before swinging, and once again, after swinging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many a golfer prefers a golf cart to a caddy because it cannot count, criticize or laugh. Golf is a game in which the slowest people in the world are those in front of you, and the fastest are those behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golf: A five mile walk punctuated with disappointments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no game like golf: you go out with three friends, play eighteen holes, and return with three enemies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golf got its name because all of the other four letter words were taken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5408677828031666014?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5408677828031666014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5408677828031666014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5408677828031666014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5408677828031666014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/03/golf-facts.html' title='Golf Facts'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1341628664400487583</id><published>2009-03-07T05:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T05:37:24.089-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Daytime Affair</title><content type='html'>A woman was having a daytime affair while her husband was at work. One wet and lusty day she was in bed with her boyfriend when, to her horror, she heard her husband's car pull into the driveway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my - Hurry! Grab your clothes and jump out the window. My husband's home early!" "I can't jump out the window ~ It's raining out there!" "If my husband catches us in here, he'll kill us both!" she replied. He's got a hot temper and a gun, so the rain is the least of your problems!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the boyfriend scoots out of bed, grabs his clothes and jumps out the window! As he ran down the street in the pouring rain, he quickly discovered he had run right into the middle of the town's annual marathon, so he started running along beside the others, about 300 of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being naked, with his clothes tucked under his arm, he tried to blend in as best he could. After a little while a small group of runners who had been watching him with some curiosity, jogged closer. "Do you always run in the nude?" one asked. "Oh yes!" he replied, gasping for air. "It feels so wonderfully free!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another runner moved alongside him. "Do you always run carrying your clothes with you under your arm?" "Oh , yes" our friend answered breathlessly. "That way I can get dressed right at the end of the run and get in my car to go home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a third runner cast his eyes a little lower and queried, " Do you always wear a condom when you run? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope........ . just when it's raining".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1341628664400487583?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1341628664400487583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1341628664400487583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1341628664400487583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1341628664400487583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/03/daytime-affair.html' title='A Daytime Affair'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5580241513057358922</id><published>2009-02-24T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:27:56.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking Monkey</title><content type='html'>A police officer came upon a terrible wreck where the driver and passenger had been killed. As he looked upon the wreckage a little monkey came out of the brush and hopped around the crashed car. The officer looked down at the monkey and said, "I wish you could talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The monkey looked up at the officer and nodded his head up and down. "You can understand what I'm saying?" asked the officer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, the monkey nods his head up and down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, did you see this?" "Yes," motioned the monkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened?" The monkey pretended to have a can in his hand and turned it up to his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They were drinking?" asked the officer. The monkey nods his head "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What else?" The monkey pinched his fingers together and held them to his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They were smoking marijuana?" The monkey nods his head "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What else?" The monkey motioned "kissing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They were kissing, too?" asked the astounded officer. The monkey nods his head "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now wait, you're saying your owners were drinking, smoking and kissing before they wrecked." The monkey nods his head "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What were you doing during all this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Driving" motioned the monkey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5580241513057358922?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5580241513057358922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5580241513057358922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5580241513057358922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5580241513057358922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/02/talking-monkey.html' title='Talking Monkey'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4342905317808164574</id><published>2009-02-08T02:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T02:51:31.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Example Of A Development</title><content type='html'>Teacher: "Children, tomorrow I would like you to give me an example of a development that is currently being built near your home and what are the advantages of this new development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the class, the teacher asks that all the little girls remain behind for 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Young ladies, I have received numerous complaints from your parents concerning Little Johnny's' crude remarks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very likely that tomorrow he is going to say something dirty and that is why I am asking you all, to avoid any further problems that if he says anything that appears rude, I would like you all to get up and leave the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Everybody agreed to this plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Is everybody ready with their assignment? Go ahead Anita."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anita: "Near my home, a supermarket is being built. Now my mommy doesn't have to walk so far to get bread and milk." Teacher: "Very good Anita! Yes Suzie!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzie: "Near my home, they are building a furniture factory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daddy is a carpenter and this permits him to work near home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Excellent, thank-you Suzie!" At this point, little Johnny's hand shoots up and the Teacher asks: "Oh heavens, Johnny tell me what new development is being built near your home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Johnny: "Near my home, they are building a brothel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As planned, all the young ladies get up and proceed to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Johnny says, "Hey relax...sluts, it hasn't opened yet!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4342905317808164574?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4342905317808164574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4342905317808164574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4342905317808164574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4342905317808164574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/02/example-of-development.html' title='Example Of A Development'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-505247354630798927</id><published>2009-02-04T03:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T03:23:37.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Caught My Eye</title><content type='html'>A man who lived in a block of apartments thought it was raining and put his hand out the window to check. As he did so a glass eye fell into his hand. He looked up to see where it came from in time to see a young woman looking down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is this yours?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Yes, could you bring it up?" and the man agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On arrival she was profuse in her thanks and offered the man a drink. As she was very attractive he agreed. Shortly afterwards she said, "I'm about to have dinner. There's plenty, would you like to join me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He readily accepted her offer and both enjoyed a lovely meal. As the evening was drawing to a close the lady said, "I've had a marvelous evening. Would you like to stay the night?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man hesitated then said, "Do you act like this with every man you meet?" "No," she replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"only those who catch my eye."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-505247354630798927?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/505247354630798927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=505247354630798927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/505247354630798927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/505247354630798927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-caught-my-eye.html' title='You Caught My Eye'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2480386883954931178</id><published>2009-01-30T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T06:27:55.564-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Church Organist</title><content type='html'>Miss Bea, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was much admired for her sweetness and kindness to all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor came to call on her one afternoon early in the spring, and she welcomed him into her Victorian parlor. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared a little tea. As he sat facing her old pump organ, the young minister noticed a cut glass bowl sitting on top of it filled with water. In the water floated, of all things, a condom. Imagine the shock and surprise. Imagine his curiosity! Surely Miss Bea had flipped or something...!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she returned with tea and cookies, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him, and he could resist no longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Miss Bea," he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" (pointing to the bowl).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yes, " she replied, "isn't it wonderful? I was walking downtown last fall and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to put it on the organ, keep it wet, and it would prevent disease. And you know... I haven't had a cold all winter."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2480386883954931178?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2480386883954931178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2480386883954931178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2480386883954931178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2480386883954931178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/01/church-organist.html' title='The Church Organist'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8692221604998621630</id><published>2009-01-21T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T15:42:30.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Made in Japan</title><content type='html'>There was a Japanese man who went to America for sightseeing. On the last day, he hailed a cab and told the driver to drive to the airport. During the journey, a Honda drove past the taxi. Thereupon, the man leaned out of the window excitedly and yelled, "Honda, very fast! Made in Japan!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, a Toyota sped past the taxi. Again, the Japanese man leaned out of the window and yelled, "Toyota, very fast! Made in Japan!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then a Mitsubishi sped past the taxi. For the third time, the Japanese leaned out of the window and yelled, "Mitsubishi, very fast! Made in Japan!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driver was a little angry, but he kept quiet. And this went on for quite a number of cars. Finally, the taxi came to the airport. The fare was US$300.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Japanese exclaimed, "Wah... so expensive!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There upon, the driver yelled back, "Meter, very fast! Made in Japan!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8692221604998621630?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8692221604998621630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8692221604998621630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8692221604998621630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8692221604998621630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/01/made-in-japan.html' title='Made in Japan'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3171443535732754495</id><published>2009-01-05T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T10:51:18.669-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nerd Season</title><content type='html'>A trucker hauling computers and accessories is driving down the highway late one night when he sees a truck stop on the side of the road. So he decides to pull over. On aproaching the door he read s a sign: "NO NERDS." He shrugs it off and enters. He's greeted by the end of a shotgun barrel in his face. "Are you a nerd?" the bartender asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I'm a truck driver," he replies. He's allowed to come in, so he orders a cup of coffee, sits at the bar and drinks it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While he drinks his coffee, a man walks in wearing his pants up to his chest, a plaid shirt, pocket protector and thick-framed glass. The bartender pulls out his shotgun and blows him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the hell did you do that for!?" asks the trucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," the bartender answers, "it's nerd season."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nerd season?" asks the trucker, confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. See, the nerd population in this town is getting out of hand, so we've opened up nerd season."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with that, he finishes his coffee and goes back on the road. While he drives the car in front of him suddenly swerves and wrecks. To avoid becoming part the disaster, he swerves to get out of way. The swerve's too hard. His tractor trailer flips and he dumps his load all over the road. He gets out of his truck to see nerds coming from all directions grabbing everything they can. He doesn't know what to do. He's gotta stop this. Remembering what the bartender told him, he goes back to the truck and pulls out his gun and starts picking them off, one by one. While doing this, a highway patrol officer starts running after him, waving his arms screaming, "STOP! STOP!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" the trucker asks, confused, "I thought it was nerd season."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well yeah," the officer answers, "but you can't bait 'em!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3171443535732754495?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3171443535732754495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3171443535732754495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3171443535732754495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3171443535732754495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/01/nerd-season.html' title='Nerd Season'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-435516983469149448</id><published>2009-01-03T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T15:06:34.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulled Over</title><content type='html'>A driver was pulled over by a police officer for speeding. As the officer was writing the ticket, she noticed several machetes in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are those for?" she asked suspiciously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a juggler," the man replied. "I use those in my act."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer wanting to be sure so he asked "Please step out of the car and show me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he got out with the machetes and started juggling them, first three, then more, finally seven at one time, overhand, underhand, behind the back, putting on a dazzling show and amazing the officer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another car passed by. The driver did a double take, and said, "My God. I've got to give up drinking! Look at the tests they're giving now!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-435516983469149448?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/435516983469149448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=435516983469149448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/435516983469149448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/435516983469149448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2009/01/pulled-over.html' title='Pulled Over'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1489940221267539321</id><published>2008-12-29T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T10:08:01.588-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's This Guy</title><content type='html'>After a long night of making love, the young guy rolled over, pulled out a cigarette from his jeans and searched for his lighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unable to find it, he asked the girl if she had one at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There might be some matches in the top drawer," she replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He opened the drawer of the bedside table and found a box of matches sitting neatly on top of a framed picture of another man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, the guy began to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is this your husband?" he inquired nervously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, silly," she replied, snuggling up to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your boyfriend then?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, not at all," she said, nibbling away at his ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, who is he then?" demanded the bewildered guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calmly, the girl replied, "That's me before the operation."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1489940221267539321?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1489940221267539321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1489940221267539321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1489940221267539321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1489940221267539321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/whos-this-guy.html' title='Who&apos;s This Guy'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-7858961407330866792</id><published>2008-12-23T16:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T17:03:55.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Groceries</title><content type='html'>A Russian woman married an Australian gentleman and they lived happily ever after in Melbourne . The poor lady was not very proficient in English, but did manage to communicate with her husband. The real problem arose whenever she had to shop for groceries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, she went to the butcher and wanted to buy chicken legs. She didn't know how to put forward her request, and in desperation, clucked like a chicken and lifted up her skirt to show her thighs. Her butcher got the message, and gave her the chicken legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day she needed to get chicken breasts, again she didn't know how to say it, and so she clucked like a chicken and unbuttoned her blouse to show the butcher her breasts. The butcher understood again, and gave her some chicken breasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the 3rd day, the poor lady needed to buy sausages. Unable to find a way to communicate this, she brought her husband to the store... (Please scroll down.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What were you thinking? Hellooooooo, her husband speaks English! Now get back to whatever you were doing. I don't know about you sometimes..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-7858961407330866792?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7858961407330866792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=7858961407330866792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7858961407330866792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7858961407330866792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/groceries.html' title='Groceries'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1780629070599673503</id><published>2008-12-22T12:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T12:46:40.164-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eternal Marriage</title><content type='html'>On their way to a justice of the peace to get married, a couple has a fatal car accident. The couple is sitting outside heaven's gate waiting on St.Peter to do an intake. While waiting, they wonder if they could possibly get married in Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter finally shows up and they ask him. St. Peter says, "I don't know, this is the first time anyone has ever asked. Let me go find out," and he leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple sits for a couple of months and begin to wonder if they really should get married in Heaven, what with the eternal aspect of it all. "What if it doesn't work out?" they wonder, "Are we stuck together forever?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter returns after yet another month, looking somewhat bedraggled. "Yes," he informs the couple, "You can get married in Heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great," says the couple, "but what if things don't work out? Could we also get a divorce in Heaven?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter, red-faced, slams his clipboard onto the ground!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong?" exclaims the frightened couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on!" St. Peter exclaims, "It took me three months to find a priest up here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have any idea how long it's going to take for me to find a lawyer!?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1780629070599673503?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1780629070599673503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1780629070599673503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1780629070599673503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1780629070599673503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/eternal-marriage.html' title='Eternal Marriage'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4643101073129051887</id><published>2008-12-21T06:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T06:48:41.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE VIBRATOR</title><content type='html'>As a woman passed her daughter's closed bedroom door, she heard astrange buzzing noise coming from within. Opening the door,she observed her daughter with a vibrator.Shocked, she asked: 'What in the world are you doing?'The daughter replied: 'mom, I'm thirty-five years old, unmarried,and this thing is about as close as I'll ever get to a husband. Please, go away and leave me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'The next day, the girl's father heard the same buzz coming from theother side of the closed bedroom door. Upon entering the room, heobserved his daughter making passionate love to her vibrator.To his query as to what she was doing, the daughter said: dad'm thirty-five, unmarried, and this thing is about as close as I'll ever get to a husband. Please, go away and leave me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'A couple days later, the wife came home from a shopping trip,placed the groceries on the kitchen counter, and heard that buzzingnoise coming from, of all places, the living room. She entered thatarea and observed her husband sitting on the couch, downing a coldbeer, and staring at the TV.The vibrator was next to him on the couch, buzzing like crazyThe wife asked: 'What the f@!* are you doing?'The husband replied: 'I'm watching football with my son-in-law&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4643101073129051887?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4643101073129051887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4643101073129051887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4643101073129051887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4643101073129051887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/vibrator.html' title='THE VIBRATOR'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4866128569748300621</id><published>2008-12-19T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T11:57:00.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>" Fill it with water "</title><content type='html'>Three guys, a Canadian, Osama Bin Laden and Uncle Sam are out walking together one day. They come across a lantern and a Genie pops out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will give each of you each one wish, that's three wishes total," says the Genie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Canadian says, "I am a farmer, my dad was a farmer, and my son will also farm. I want the land to be forever fertile in Canada." With a blink of the Genie's eye, 'POOF' the land in Canada was forever made fertile for farming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Osama Bin Laden was amazed, so he said, "I want a wall around Afghanistan, so that no infidels, Jews or Americans can come into our precious state." Again, with a blink of the Genie's eye, 'POOF' there was a huge wall around Afghanistan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uncle Sam" (A former civil engineer), asks, "I'm very curious. Please tell me more about this wall." The Genie explains, "Well, it's about 15,000 feet high, 500 feet thick and completely surrounds the country; nothing can get in or out---virtually impenetrable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uncle Sam" says, "Fill it with water."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4866128569748300621?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4866128569748300621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4866128569748300621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4866128569748300621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4866128569748300621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/fill-it-with-water.html' title='&quot; Fill it with water &quot;'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-6496259787023051920</id><published>2008-12-18T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T07:06:33.327-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Please pray for Rick</title><content type='html'>Rick was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary. His wife was really angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told him 'Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in less than 6 seconds, AND IT BETTER BE THERE!!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Rick got up early and left for work. When his wife woke up she looked out the window and sure enough there was a box gift-wrapped in the middle of the driveway... Confused, the wife ran out to the driveway. She opened it and found a brand new bathroom scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rick has been missing since Friday. Please pray for him&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-6496259787023051920?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6496259787023051920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=6496259787023051920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6496259787023051920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6496259787023051920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/please-pray-for-rick.html' title='Please pray for Rick'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8043645111721581653</id><published>2008-12-16T03:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T03:23:13.507-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Husband</title><content type='html'>Several men are in the locker room of a golf club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cell phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands free speaker-function and begins to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone else in the room stops to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" WOMAN: "Honey, it's me. Are you at the club?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" WOMAN: "I am at the mall now and found this beautiful leather coat. It's only $1,000. Is it OK if I buy it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Sure, go ahead if you like it that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" WOMAN: "I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the new 2005 models. I saw one I really liked."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; MAN: "How much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" WOMAN: "$90,000."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "OK, but for that price, I want it with all the options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" WOMAN: "Great! Oh, and one more thing .....the house I wanted last year is back on the market. They're asking $950,000."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; MAN: "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer of $900,000. They will probably take it. If not, we can go the extra 50 thousand. It is really a pretty good price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" WOMAN: "OK. I'll see you later!I love you so much!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Bye! I love you, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" The man hangs up. The other men in the locker room are staring at him in astonishment, mouths agape.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he smiles and asks: "Anyone know who this phone belongs to?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8043645111721581653?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8043645111721581653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8043645111721581653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8043645111721581653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8043645111721581653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/perfect-husband.html' title='The Perfect Husband'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-7086538966690991445</id><published>2008-12-12T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T05:57:30.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pickles</title><content type='html'>Bill worked in a pickle factory. He had been employed there for a number of years when he came home one day and confess to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion. He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill indicated that he'd be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a few weeks later, Bill came home absolutely ashen. His wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong. "What's wrong, Bill?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Bill, you didn't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I did." "My God, Bill, what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got fired."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, she got fired too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-7086538966690991445?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7086538966690991445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=7086538966690991445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7086538966690991445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7086538966690991445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/pickles.html' title='Pickles'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-7458351058333481052</id><published>2008-12-10T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:27:21.784-08:00</updated><title type='text'>$7.00 SEX</title><content type='html'>A Florida couple, both well into their 80s, go to a sex therapist's office. The doctor asks, "What can I do for you?" The man says, "Will you watch us have sexual intercourse?" The doctor raises both eyebrows, but he is so amazed such an elderly couple is asking for sexual advice that he agrees. When the couple finishes, the doctor says, “There's absolutely nothing wrong with the way you have intercourse." He thanks them for coming and wishes them good luck,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He charges them $50 and says good bye!!The next week, the couple returns and asks the sex therapist to watch again. The sex therapist is a bit puzzled, but agrees. This happens several weeks in a row. The couple makes an appointment, has intercourse with no problems, pays the doctor, then leave. Finally, after 3 months of this routine, the doctor says, "I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Just what are you trying to find out???”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "We're not trying to find out anything. She's married and we can't go to her house. I'm married too, and we can't go to my house ". “SO…….we come here because”…………&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Holiday Inn charges $98.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hilton charges $139.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do it here for $50&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I get $43 back from Medicare&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-7458351058333481052?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7458351058333481052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=7458351058333481052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7458351058333481052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7458351058333481052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/700-sex.html' title='$7.00 SEX'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4824227723834440092</id><published>2008-12-09T04:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:49:59.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lust</title><content type='html'>A couple went to mass and took confession. The husband went into the confessional and said "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father asked him the nature of this, to which he replied, "While my wife was bending over the freezer I had lustful thoughts and had my way with her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Priest tried explaining that having sex with your own wife was not a sin and forgiveness was not needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, the man insisted that he felt guilty. The priest told him to say three Hail Mary's and be on his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, the wife went into the confessional and said that while she was leaning over the freezer her husband had had his way with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The priest asked her how long she had been married. She replied it was three years now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The priest tried to explain to her that it was quite proper for married people to have sex and that there was nothing to be guilty about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, the woman insisted that she felt guilty so the priest told her to say three Hail Mary's and think no more about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she turned to leave, the woman asked the priest if her and her husband would be banned from the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Banned from the church?! Whatever gave you that idea?' the priest queried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," she said, "they banned us from the supermarket!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4824227723834440092?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4824227723834440092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4824227723834440092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4824227723834440092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4824227723834440092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/lust.html' title='Lust'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-607350907315754502</id><published>2008-12-09T04:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:43:55.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Register 5</title><content type='html'>A man was in a long line at the grocery store. As he got to the register he realized he had forgotten to get condoms, so he asked the checkout girl if she could have some brought up to the register.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asked," What size condoms?" The customer replied that he didn't know. She asked him to drop his pants. He did, she reached over the counter, grabbed hold of him and called over the intercom,"One box of large condoms, Register 5."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next man in line thought this was interesting and was up for a cheap thrill. When he got to the register, he told the checker that he too had forgotten to get condoms, and asked if she could have some brought to the register for him. She asked him what size, and he stated didn't know. She asked him to drop his pants. He did, she gave him a quick feel, picked up the intercom and said, "One box of medium-sized condoms, Register 5."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few customers back was this teenage boy. He thought what he had seen was way too cool. He had never had any type of sexual contact with a live female, so he thought this was his chance. When he got to the register he told the checker he needed some condoms. She asked him what size and he said he didn't know. She asked him to drop his pants and he did. She reached over the counter, gave him one quick squeeze, then picked up the intercom and said... Clean up register 5&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-607350907315754502?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/607350907315754502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=607350907315754502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/607350907315754502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/607350907315754502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/register-5.html' title='Register 5'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-612233584923066831</id><published>2008-12-04T02:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T02:22:15.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bra Size</title><content type='html'>A very flat-chested woman finally decided she needed a bra and set out to the mall in search of one in her size. She entered an upscale department store and approached the saleslady in lingerie, "Do you have a size 28AAAA bra?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clerk haughtily replied in the negative, so she left the store and proceeded to another department store where she is rebuffed in much the same manner. After a third try at another department store in the mall, she had become disgusted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving the mall, she drove to K-Mart. Marching up to the sales clerk, she unbuttoned and threw open her blouse, yelling, "Do you have anything for this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady looked closely at her and replied, "Have you tried Clearasil?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-612233584923066831?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/612233584923066831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=612233584923066831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/612233584923066831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/612233584923066831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/bra-size.html' title='Bra Size'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3067996814761662918</id><published>2008-12-03T01:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T01:36:38.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Centipede</title><content type='html'>A man goes into a pet shop and tells the owner that he wants to buy a pet that can do everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shop owner suggests a faithful dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replies, "Come on, a dog?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The owner says, "How about a cat?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replies, "No way! A cat certainly can't do everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a pet that can do everything!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shop owner thinks for a minute, then says, "I've got it! A centipede!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "A centipede? I can't imagine a centipede doing everything, but okay... I'll try a centipede." He gets the centipede home and says to the centipede, "Clean the kitchen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirty minutes later, he walks into the kitchen and... it's immaculate! All the dishes and silverware have been washed, dried, and put away the counter-tops cleaned the appliances sparkling the floor waxed. He's absolutely amazed. He says to the centipede,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go clean the living room." Twenty minutes later, he walks into the living room. The carpet has been vacuumed the furniture cleaned and dusted the pillows on the sofa plumped, plants watered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thinks to himself, "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen. This really is a pet that can do everything!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Next he says to the centipede, "Run down to the corner and get me a newspaper."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The centipede walks out the door. 10 minutes later... no centipede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 minutes later... no centipede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 minutes later... no centipede. By this point the man is wondering what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The centipede should have been back in a couple of minutes. 45 minutes later... still no centipede!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can't imagine what could have happened. Did the centipede run away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did it get run over by a car? Where is that centipede?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he goes to the front door, opens it... and there's the centipede sitting right outside. The man says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey!!! I sent you down to the corner store 45 minutes ago to get me a newspaper. What's the matter?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The centipede says, "I'm goin'! I'm goin'! I'm just puttin' on my shoes!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3067996814761662918?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3067996814761662918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3067996814761662918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3067996814761662918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3067996814761662918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/centipede.html' title='The Centipede'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-491384340559435650</id><published>2008-12-02T05:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T05:15:22.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde And The Horrible Accident</title><content type='html'>A blonde had totaled her car in a horrible accident. It was a miracle to watch as she pulled herself from the wreckage without any bruises or injuries. Bystanders were shocked when she proceeded to walk away with no shock on her face and began to apply fresh lipstick to her lips. The state trooper chose this moment to drive up and question the girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My word!” the trooper gasped. “Your car looks like an accordion that was stomped on by an elephant. Are you OK ma’am?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, officer, I’m just fine” the blonde stated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, how in the world did this happen?” asked the officer as he looked over the wrecked car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Officer, it was the strangest thing!” the blonde began. I was driving along this road when from out of nowhere this TREE pops up in front of me. So I swerved to the right, and there was another tree! I swerved to the left and there was ANOTHER tree! I served to the right and there was another tree! I swerved to the left and there was ….”“&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, ma’am”, the officer said, “There isn’t a tree on this road for 30 miles. That was your air freshener swinging back and forth.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-491384340559435650?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/491384340559435650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=491384340559435650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/491384340559435650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/491384340559435650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/12/blonde-and-horrible-accident.html' title='Blonde And The Horrible Accident'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5754779501259326848</id><published>2008-11-30T05:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T05:09:31.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smarter Than You Think</title><content type='html'>There was a little boy named Johnny who used to hang out at the local corner market. The owner didn't know what Johnny's problem was, but the boys would constantly tease him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They would always comment that he was two bricks shy of a load, or two pickles short of a barrel. To prove it, sometimes they would offer Johnny his choice between a nickel (5 cents) and a dime (10 cents) and John would always take the nickel - they said, because it was bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day after John grabbed the nickel, the store owner took him aside and said "Johnny, those boys are making fun of you. They think you don't know the dime is worth more than the nickel. Are you grabbing the nickel because it's bigger, or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Slowly, Johny turned toward the store owner and a big grin appeared on his face and Johnny said, "Well, if I took the dime, they'd stop doing it, and so far I have saved $20&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5754779501259326848?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5754779501259326848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5754779501259326848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5754779501259326848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5754779501259326848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/11/smarter-than-you-think.html' title='Smarter Than You Think'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1677769621957347640</id><published>2008-11-16T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T08:02:07.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I read it on the Internet</title><content type='html'>I was on my way to the post office to pick up my case of free M&amp;amp;M's (sent to me because I forwarded an e-mail to five other people, celebrating the fact that the year 2000 is "MM" in Roman numerals), when I ran into a friend whose neighbor, a young man, was home recovering from having been served a rat in his bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken (which is predictable, since as everyone knows, there's no actual chicken in Kentucky Fried Chicken, which is why the government made them change their name to KFC).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, one day this guy went to sleep and when he awoke he was in his bathtub and it was full of ice and he was sore all over and when he got out of the tub he realized that HIS KIDNEY HAD BEEN STOLEN. He saw a note on his mirror that said "Call 911!" but he was afraid to use his phone because it was connected to his computer, and there was a virus on his computer that would destroy his hard drive if he opened an email entitled "Join the crew!" He knew it wasn't a hoax because he himself was a computer programmer who was working on software to prevent a global disaster in which all the computers get together and distribute the $250.00 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe under the leadership of Bill Gates. (It's true - I read it all last week in a mass e-mail from BILL GATES HIMSELF, who was also promising me a free Disney World vacation and $5,000 if I would forward the e-mail to everyone I know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poor man then tried to call 911 from a pay phone to report his missing kidneys, but a voice on the line first asked him to press #90, which unwittingly gave the bandit full access to the phone line at the guy's expense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then reaching into the coin-return slot he got jabbed with an HIV-infected needle around which was wrapped a note that said, "Welcome to the world of AIDS." Luckily he was only a few blocks from the hospital - the one where that little boy who is dying of cancer is, the one whose last wish is for everyone in the world to send him an e-mail and the American Cancer Society has agreed to pay him a nickel for every e-mail he receives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent him two e-mails and one of them was a bunch of x's and o's in the shape of an angel (if you get it and forward it to more than 10 people, you will have good luck but for 10 people only you will only have OK luck and if you send it to fewer than10 people you will have BAD LUCK FOR SEVEN YEARS).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway the poor guy tried to drive himself to the hospital, but on the way he noticed another car driving without its lights on. To be helpful, he flashed his lights at him and was promptly shot as part of a gang initiation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send THIS to all the friends who send you their junk mail and you will receive 4 green M&amp;amp;Ms -- if you don't, the owner of Proctor and Gamble will report you to his Satanist friends and you will have more bad luck:&lt;br /&gt;you will get sick from the Sodium Laureth Sulfate in your shampoo, your spouse/mate will develop a skin rash from using the antiperspirant which clogs the pores under your arms, and the U.S. government will put a tax on your e-mails forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is all true 'cause I read it on the Internet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1677769621957347640?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1677769621957347640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1677769621957347640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1677769621957347640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1677769621957347640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-read-it-on-internet.html' title='I read it on the Internet'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2697395308161288853</id><published>2008-11-09T03:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T03:55:51.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Janitor or Millionaire</title><content type='html'>An unemployed man goes to apply for a job with Microsoft as a janitor. The manager there arranges for him to take an aptitude test (Section: Floors, sweeping and cleaning).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the test, the manager says, "You will be employed at minimum wage, $5.15 an hour. Let me have your e-mail address, so that I can send you a form to complete and tell you where to report for work on your first day. Taken aback, the man protests that he has neither a computer nor an e-mail address. To this the MS manager replies, "Well, then, that means that you virtually don't exist and can therefore hardly expect to be employed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stunned, the man leaves. Not knowing where to turn and having only $10 in his wallet, he decides to buy a 25 lb flat of tomatoes at the supermarket. Within less than 2 hours, he sells all the tomatoes individually at 100% profit. Repeating the process several times more that day, he ends up with almost $100 before going to sleep that night. And thus it dawns on him that he could quite easily make a living selling tomatoes. Getting up early every day and going to bed late, he multiplies his profits quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a short time he acquires a cart to transport several dozen boxes of tomatoes, only to have to trade it in again so that he can buy a pick-up truck to support his expanding business. By the end of the second year, he is the owner of a fleet of pick-up trucks and manages a staff of a hundred former unemployed people, all selling tomatoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Planning for the future of his wife and children, he decides to buy some life insurance. Consulting with an insurance adviser, he picks an insurance plan to fit his new circumstances. At the end of the telephone conversation, the adviser asks him for his e-mail address in order to send the final documents electronically. When the man replies that he has no e-mail, the adviser is stunned, "What, you don't have e-mail? How on earth have you managed to amass such wealth without the Internet, e-mail and e-commerce? Just imagine where you would be now, if you had been connected to the Internet from the very start!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a moment of thought, the tomato millionaire replied, "Why, of course! I would be a floor cleaner at Microsoft!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of this story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Internet, e-mail and e-commerce do not need to rule your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you don't have e-mail, but work hard, you can still become a millionaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Since you got this story via e-mail, you're probably closer to becoming a janitor than you are to becoming a millionaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If you do have a computer and e-mail, you have already been taken to the cleaners by Microsoft&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2697395308161288853?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2697395308161288853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2697395308161288853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2697395308161288853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2697395308161288853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/11/janitor-or-millionaire.html' title='Janitor or Millionaire'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4029244562980405998</id><published>2008-11-02T02:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T02:25:05.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead Drive Fix</title><content type='html'>It's really not too difficult fixing your own hard drive, if the problem is a head crash, or the infamous Seagate "stiction" problem, if you know what to do. You will require #4/0 steel wool, paint thinners, WD-40, a few hand tools, and about 45 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, you need a clean room, so make sure the garage door is closed before you begin. Move those old lawnmower parts off the bench. Disassemble the sealed unit and carefully wash all parts with paint thinners. Bend the read/write heads out of the way, and then disassemble the platter stack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VERY CAREFULLY buff the platter surfaces with the #4/0 steel wool. This will remove any existing data, level out any surface defects, and help to redistribute the magnetic media and fill in those pesky "bad sectors" that most drives have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reassemble the platter stack, and using a .015" feeler gauge, bend the read/write heads back to the platter surface, using the feeler gauge to set the gap. This is slightly higher gap than the factory uses, but it reduces the chance of head collisions with any flotsam you neglected to remove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give the heads and platters a good shot of WD-40 and reassemble the unit. If your drive has a filter, replace it with a clean section of gauze pad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that's left is to low level and DOS format the drive, and you're back in business. I haven't tried this myself, but my friend's wife's sister-in-law's husband knows a technician that does it all the time....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4029244562980405998?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4029244562980405998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4029244562980405998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4029244562980405998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4029244562980405998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/11/dead-drive-fix.html' title='Dead Drive Fix'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-7551553258708863822</id><published>2008-10-26T02:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T02:27:25.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Care and feeding of your computer</title><content type='html'>I've been working on a project at work to ensure all our end users know how to back up data in preparation for company wide computer upgrades. I'm tempted to hand this out to some of our users.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Never leave diskettes in the disk drive, as data can leak out of the disk and corrode the inner mechanics of the drive. Diskettes should be rolled up and stored in pencil holders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Diskettes should be cleaned and waxed once a week. Microscopic metal particles can be removed by waving a powerful magnet over the surface of the disk. Any stubborn metallic shavings can be removed with scouring powder and soap. When waxing diskettes, make sure application is even. This will allow the diskettes to spin faster, resulting in better access time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do not fold diskettes unless they do not fit in the drive. "Big" diskettes may be folded and used in "little" disk drives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Never insert a disk into the drive upside down. The data can fall off the surface of the disk and jam the intricate mechanics of the drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Diskettes cannot be backed up by running them through the Xerox machine. If your data needs to be backed up, simply insert two diskettes together into the drive whenever you update a document; the data will be recorded on both diskettes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Diskettes should not be inserted into or removed from the drive while the red light is flashing. Doing so could result in smeared or possibly unreadable text. Occasionally the red light continues to flash in what is known as a "hung" or "hooked" state. If your system is "hooking" you, you will probably need to insert several dollars before being allowed to access the disk drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. If your diskette is full and you need more storage space, remove the disk from the drive and shake vigorously for two minutes. This will pack the data ("data compression") enough to allow for more storage. Be sure to cover all the openings with scotch tape to prevent loss of data&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-7551553258708863822?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7551553258708863822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=7551553258708863822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7551553258708863822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/7551553258708863822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/10/care-and-feeding-of-your-computer.html' title='Care and feeding of your computer'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4680006009034809709</id><published>2008-10-20T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T05:40:57.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My computer crashed and died today</title><content type='html'>My computer crashed and died today And I thought, "oh well what the hey" Now I'd have time to clean my house And see if I still had a spouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started out with weird frustrations Combined with mild heart palpitations And then my ankles began to swell Withdrawal symptoms from no AOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chills ran up and down my spine Oh, God I had to get on-line To greet my buds and check my mail I began to feel helpless and frail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered the Good Guy's Store And all those computers by the door I'd go there and when alone With no one looking I'd sign-on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped up to a computer, clicked on AOL The Sign-On screen came up, man it sure looked swell I clicked on the Guest name, then came the modem soundI was having cold-sweats, as my heart began to pound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I typed my password, and the computer said, "Goodbye" And that's what I kept hearing each time that I would try. This was just an evil plot, the store was playing tricks If only they had known how bad I need my AOL fix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ...slowly... typed... my... password... then...I... stood....and...waited The darned thing said , "Goodbye" again and I got real frustrated That's when I shoved the keyboard thru the monitor screen And the last thing I remember is my loud shrieking scream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke I was handcuffed being booked I think I asked the data entry cop, if he'd get me a drink Now I'm sitting in his chair, and I know I can get well If I can just use his computer to sign on AOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4680006009034809709?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4680006009034809709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4680006009034809709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4680006009034809709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4680006009034809709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-computer-crashed-and-died-today.html' title='My computer crashed and died today'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2574635595391350953</id><published>2008-10-13T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T06:11:54.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How To Build A web</title><content type='html'>1. Download a piece of Web authoring software - 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. Think about what you want to write on your Web page - 6 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;3. Download the same piece of Web authoring software, because they have released 3 new versions since the first time you downloaded it - 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;4. Decide to just steal some images and awards to put on your site - 1 minute.&lt;br /&gt;5. Visit sites to find images and awards, find 5 of them that you like - 4 days.&lt;br /&gt;6. Run setup of your Web authoring software. After it fails, download it again - 25 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;7. Run setup again, boot the software, click all toolbar buttons to see what they do - 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;8. View the source of others' pages, steal some, change a few words here and there - 4 hours.&lt;br /&gt;9. Preview your Web page using the Web Authoring software - 1 minute.&lt;br /&gt;10. Try to horizontally line up two related images - 6 hours.&lt;br /&gt;11. Remove one of the images - 10 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;12. Set the text's font color to the same color as your background, wonder why all your text is gone - 4 hours.&lt;br /&gt;13. Download a counter from your ISP - 4 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;14. Try to figure out why your counter reads "You are visitor number -16.3 E10" - 3 hours.&lt;br /&gt;15. Put 4 blank lines between two lines of text - 8 hours.&lt;br /&gt;16. Fine-tune the text, then prepare to load your Web page on your ISP - 40 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;17. Accidentally delete your complete web page - 1 second.&lt;br /&gt;18. Recreate your web page - 2 days.&lt;br /&gt;19. Try to figure out how to load your Web page onto your ISP's server - 3 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;20. Call a patient friend to find out about FTP - 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;21. Download FTP software - 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;22. Call your friend again - 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;23. Upload your web page to your ISP's server - 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;24. Connect to your site on the web - 1 minute.&lt;br /&gt;25. Repeat any and all of the previous steps - eternity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2574635595391350953?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2574635595391350953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2574635595391350953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2574635595391350953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2574635595391350953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-to-build-web.html' title='How To Build A web'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-331825722194787114</id><published>2008-09-30T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T09:06:22.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>REDNECK PIC'S</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJOTy2NUvI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Cm5d6uvThP0/s1600-h/rnlottery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251846217441039090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJOTy2NUvI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Cm5d6uvThP0/s400/rnlottery.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; REDNECK LOTTERY WINNER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJOHMWhq0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/-26_fre3rRQ/s1600-h/rncamper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251846000949177154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJOHMWhq0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/-26_fre3rRQ/s400/rncamper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; REDNECK CAMPER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNqgYQJlI/AAAAAAAAAEk/LvNEdNpHKow/s1600-h/Redneckcake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251845508108920402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNqgYQJlI/AAAAAAAAAEk/LvNEdNpHKow/s400/Redneckcake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNdpMbsLI/AAAAAAAAAEc/QrEfI-hQh3E/s1600-h/Redneck-Bass-boat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251845287136964786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNdpMbsLI/AAAAAAAAAEc/QrEfI-hQh3E/s400/Redneck-Bass-boat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; REDNECK BASS BOAT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNUwJDOEI/AAAAAAAAAEU/XL1yMLCXUbY/s1600-h/powermower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251845134383003714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNUwJDOEI/AAAAAAAAAEU/XL1yMLCXUbY/s400/powermower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNCDk58yI/AAAAAAAAAEM/UOmg1rCc7bY/s1600-h/measure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251844813182595874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJNCDk58yI/AAAAAAAAAEM/UOmg1rCc7bY/s400/measure.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; REDNECK MEASURING TAPE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJMYyO8JRI/AAAAAAAAAEE/-qcgh0wpM-A/s1600-h/580redneck_body_work.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251844104152425746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJMYyO8JRI/AAAAAAAAAEE/-qcgh0wpM-A/s400/580redneck_body_work.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; REDNECK AUTOBODY REPAIR&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-331825722194787114?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/331825722194787114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=331825722194787114' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/331825722194787114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/331825722194787114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/redneck-pics.html' title='REDNECK PIC&apos;S'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SOJOTy2NUvI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Cm5d6uvThP0/s72-c/rnlottery.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2632003406324412075</id><published>2008-09-26T03:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T04:00:35.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The FBI interviews</title><content type='html'>Three men want to become agents for the FBI. After a day of intensive interviews, they are told there is one more test to prove their dedication to the FBI. The head FBI agent takes the first guy into a private room. He hands him a gun and says, "Go into that room and kill your wife."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "No way," and leaves FBI headquarters.&lt;br /&gt;The second guy goes through the same proceedings. He walks into the second room, but on seeing his wife decides that she is worth more than a good job, and he, too, refuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the third guy is given the gun and told to kill his wife. He walks into the second room and six shots are heard. A few seconds later, the head FBI agent hears crashing and banging from the room. After a few minutes, the guy comes out of the room. "What happened?" asks the FBI agent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Some idiot loaded the gun with blanks... I had to kill her with the chair."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2632003406324412075?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2632003406324412075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2632003406324412075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2632003406324412075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2632003406324412075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/fbi-interviews.html' title='The FBI interviews'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4394355196926436585</id><published>2008-09-24T02:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T02:29:38.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Mice at the bar</title><content type='html'>Three mice are sitting at a bar in a rough neighborhood late at night trying to impress each other about how tough they are.&lt;br /&gt;The first mouse downs a shot of Jack Daniel's, slams the glass onto the bar, turns to the second mouse and says, "When I see a mousetrap, I lie on my back and set it off with my foot.&lt;br /&gt; When the bar comes down, I catch it in my teeth, bench press it twenty times to work up an appetite, and then make off with the cheese."&lt;br /&gt;The second mouse orders up two shots of Bombay Sapphire, downs them both, slams each glass into the bar.&lt;br /&gt; Turns to the first mouse, and replies: "Yeah, well when I see rat poison, I collect as much as I can, take it home, grind it up to a powder, and add it to my coffee each morning so I can get a good buzz going for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;"The first mouse and the second mouse then turn to the third mouse.&lt;br /&gt; The third mouse lets out a long sigh and says to the first two, "I don't have time for this bullshit. I got to go home and f**k the cat."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4394355196926436585?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4394355196926436585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4394355196926436585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4394355196926436585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4394355196926436585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/three-mice-at-bar.html' title='Three Mice at the bar'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3549493982746138222</id><published>2008-09-23T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T05:22:41.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde And Chimps</title><content type='html'>A blonde motorist was two hours from Sydney when she was flagged down by a man whose truck had broken down. The man walked up to the blonde's car and asked, "Are you going to Sydney?""Sure," answered the blonde, "do you need a lift?""Not for me. I'll be spending the next three hours fixing my truck. My problem is I've got two chimpanzees in the back which have to be delivered to Taronga Park Zoo. They're a bit stressed already so I don't want to keep them on the road all day. Could you possibly take them to the zoo for me? I'll give you fifty dollars for your trouble.""I'd be happy to," said the blonde.So the two chimpanzees were ushered into the back seat of the blonde's car and carefully strapped into their seat belts. Off they went.Five hours later, the truck driver was driving through the heart of Sydney when suddenly he was horrified. There was the blonde walking down the street and holding hands with the two chimps, much to the amusement of the crowd.With a screech of brakes he pulled off the road and ran over to the blonde."What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, "I gave you fifty dollars to take these chimpanzees to the zoo.""Yes, I know you did," said the blonde, "but just as we arrived it looked like it was going to rain so we decided to see a movie instead."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3549493982746138222?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3549493982746138222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3549493982746138222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3549493982746138222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3549493982746138222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/blonde-and-chimps.html' title='Blonde And Chimps'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3815575483466670599</id><published>2008-09-22T03:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T03:54:27.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Redneck Medical Terms</title><content type='html'>* Artery......................The study of paintings.* Benign......................What you be after you be eight.* Bacteria....................Back door to cafeteria.* Barium......................What doctors do when patients die.* Cesarean Section............A neighborhood in Rome.* Catscan.....................Searching for Kitty.* Cauterize...................Made eye contact with her.* Colic.......................A sheep dog.* Coma........................A punctuation mark.* D&amp;amp;C.........................Where Washington is.* Dilate......................To live long.* Enema.......................Not a friend.* Fester......................Quicker than someone else.* Fibula......................A small lie.* Genital.....................Non-Jewish person.* G.I.Series..................World Series of military baseball.* Hangnail....................What you hang your coat on.* Impotent....................Distinguished, well known.* Labor Pain..................Getting hurt at work.* Medical Staff...............A Doctor's cane.* Morbid......................A higher offer than I bid.* Nitrates....................Cheaper than day rates.* Node........................I knew it.* Outpatient..................A person who has fainted.* Pap Smear...................A fatherhood test.* Pelvis......................Second cousin to Elvis.* Post Operative..............A letter carrier.* Recovery Room...............Place to do upholstery.* Rectum......................Darn near killed him.* Secretion...................Hiding something* Seizure.....................Roman emperor.* Tablet......................A small table.* Terminal Illness............Getting sick at the airport.* Tumor.......................More than one.* Urine.......................Opposite of you're out* Varicose....................Near by&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3815575483466670599?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3815575483466670599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3815575483466670599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3815575483466670599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3815575483466670599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/redneck-medical-terms.html' title='Redneck Medical Terms'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5258983293102421382</id><published>2008-09-21T03:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T03:32:06.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oceans Of Blondes</title><content type='html'>This blonde was driving down an old country road when she spots a blonde in a wheat field rowing a boat. She pulls over to the side of the road and stops the car. Staring in disbelief she stands at the side of the road to watch the woman for a while. When she could not stand it any more she called out to the blonde in the field."Why are you rowing a boat in the middle of the field?"The blonde in the field stops rowing and responds, "Because it is an ocean of wheat."The blonde standing on the side of the road is furious. She yells at the blonde in the field. "It is blondes like you that give the rest of us a bad name."The blonde in the field just shrugged her shoulders and began rowing again.The blonde on the side of the road was beside herself and shook her fist at the blonde in the field then yelled, "if I could swim I would come out there and kick your ass&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5258983293102421382?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5258983293102421382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5258983293102421382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5258983293102421382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5258983293102421382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/oceans-of-blondes.html' title='Oceans Of Blondes'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-277585355160298657</id><published>2008-09-20T02:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T02:56:47.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A man, an ostrich, and a cat</title><content type='html'>A man walks into a bar with an ostrich and a cat and sits at the bar. The bartender walks over to them and says, "What can I get for you?"The man says "I'll have a beer", the ostrich says, "I'll have a beer", and the cat says, "I'll have half a beer and I'm not buying." So the bartender says, "OK, that will be $3.87."The man reaches into his pocket and brings out the exact change and pays him. About an hour later the bartender goes back over to them and says, "What'll you guys have?"The man says, "I'll have a beer", the ostrich says, "I'll have a beer", and the cat says "I'll have half a beer and I'm not buying." The bartender gets them their beer and says "That'll be $3.87."The man reaches into his pocket and brings out the exact change and pays him. A couple of days later they come back into the bar and the bartender walks over and asks "What do you guys want today?"The man says, "I'll have a scotch", the ostrich says, "I'll have a bourbon", and the cat says, "I'll have half a beer and I'm not buying." So the bartender says "OK, that will be $7.53." The man reaches into his pocket and brings out the exact change and pays him.The bartender's curiosity got the best of him and he asks, "Why is it that every time I tell you the amount you owe you always have the exact change in you pocket?"The man said, "I found a bottle with a genie in it and she granted me 3 wishes. My first wish was that I always have the exact change in my pocket for anything I buy."The bartender says, "That's a great wish...better than asking for a million dollars. A million dollars will run out but that never will. What were your other 2 wishes?"The man says, "That's where I screwed up. I asked for a chick with long legs and a tight pussy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-277585355160298657?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/277585355160298657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=277585355160298657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/277585355160298657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/277585355160298657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/man-ostrich-and-cat.html' title='A man, an ostrich, and a cat'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3084355696057890356</id><published>2008-09-19T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T03:05:53.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flight School</title><content type='html'>A blonde went to a flight school insisting she wanted to learn to fly. As all the planes were currently in use, the owner agreed to instruct her by radio on how to pilot the solo helicopter. He took her out, showed her how to start it and gave her the basics, and sent her on her way. After she climbed 1000 feet, she radioed in. "I'm doing great! I love it! The view is so beautiful, and I'm starting to get the hang of this." After 2000 feet, she radioed again, saying how easy it was to fly. The instructor watched her climb over 3000 feet, and was beginning to worry that she hadn't radioed in. A few minutes later, he watched in horror as she crashed about half a mile away. He ran over and pulled her from the wreckage. When he asked what happened, she said, "I don't know! Everything was going fine, but as I got higher, I was starting to get cold. I can barely remember anything after I turned off the big fan!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3084355696057890356?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3084355696057890356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3084355696057890356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3084355696057890356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3084355696057890356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/flight-school.html' title='Flight School'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8052986968947438467</id><published>2008-09-18T03:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T03:40:48.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Kinds Of Sex</title><content type='html'>1) The first is Smurf Sex. This happens during the honeymoon period, you both keep doing it until you're blue in the face.2) The second is Kitchen Sex. This is at the beginning of the marriage, you'll have sex anywhere, anytime, even in the kitchen.3) The third kind is Bedroom Sex. You've calmed down a bit, perhaps have kids, so you gotta do it in the bedroom.4) The fourth kind is Hallway Sex. This is where you pass each other in the hallway and say, "Fuck you!"5) There is also a fifth kind of sex: Courtroom Sex. This is when you get divorced and your wife screws you in front of everyone in the courtroom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8052986968947438467?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8052986968947438467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8052986968947438467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8052986968947438467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8052986968947438467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/five-kinds-of-sex.html' title='Five Kinds Of Sex'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-6827072076826483572</id><published>2008-09-17T01:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T01:32:02.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Corporate Lessons!</title><content type='html'>A priest was driving along and saw a nun on the side of the road. He stopped and offered her a lift which she accepted. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to open and reveal a lovely leg. The priest had a look and nearly had an accident.After controlling the car, he stealthfully slid his hand up her leg. The nun looked at him and immediately said, "Father, remember psalm 129?"The priest was flustered and apologized profusely. He forced himself to remove his hand. However, he was unable to remove his eyes from her leg.Further on while changing gear, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again Said, "Father, remember psalm 129?" Once again the priest apologized. "Sorry sister, but the flesh is weak."Arriving at the convent, the nun got out, gave him a meaningful glance, and went on her way.On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to retrieve a bible and looked up psalm 129. It Said, "Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory."MORAL OF THE STORY: Always be well informed in your job, or you might miss a great opportunity!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-6827072076826483572?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6827072076826483572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=6827072076826483572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6827072076826483572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6827072076826483572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/corporate-lessons.html' title='Corporate Lessons!'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-664025596792521505</id><published>2008-09-16T03:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T03:54:59.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know You're a Redneck if...</title><content type='html'>Your yard has been proposed as a new landfill site. Your kid's birth announcements include the phrase "rug rat." Your pocket knife has ever been referred to as "Exhibit A." Your sister has a "Soldier of Fortune" subscription. Your wife is sister and your daughter You've ever stood in line more than 1 hour to get your picture taken with a freak of nature. Your bank checks feature pictures of dogs fighting. You've ever stabbed someone's hand while reaching for the last pork chop. On Christmas eve, you left Santa a beer and a Slim Jim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-664025596792521505?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/664025596792521505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=664025596792521505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/664025596792521505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/664025596792521505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-know-youre-redneck-if.html' title='You Know You&apos;re a Redneck if...'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4532700272260958093</id><published>2008-09-15T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T01:23:29.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Computer Addict</title><content type='html'>To my darling husband......&lt;br /&gt;Dear John,&lt;br /&gt;I am sending you this letter in a bogus software company envelope so that you will be sure to read it. Please forgive the deception, but I thought you should know what has been going on at home since your IBM computer entered our lives two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;The children are doing well. Tommy is 7 now and is a bright, handsome boy. He has developed quite an interest in the arts. He drew a family portrait for a school project. All the figures were good, but yours was excellent! The chair and the back of your head are very realistic. You would be proud of him.&lt;br /&gt;Little Jennifer turned 3 in September. She looks a lot like you did at that age. She is an attractive child and quite smart. She still remembers that you spent the whole afternoon with us on her birthday. What a grand day for Jen, despite the fact that it was stormy and the electricity was out.&lt;br /&gt;I am also doing well. I went blonde about a year ago and was delighted to discover that it really is more fun. Lars--I mean Mr. Swenson, the department head, has taken an interest in my career and has become a good friend to us all. I have discovered that the household chores are much easier since I realized that you don't mind being vacuumed around, although that feather duster does make you sneeze. The house is in good shape. I had the living room painted last spring. I'm not sure if you noticed it. I made sure that the painters cut air holes in the drop cloth so you wouldn't smother. Well, dear, I must be going. Uncle Lars - Mr. Swenson, I mean, is taking us all on a ski trip and there is packing to do. I have hired a housekeeper to take care of thing while we are away. She'll keep things in order, fill your coffee cup, and bring your meals to your desk, -just the way you like it. I hope you and IBM have a lovely time while we are gone.&lt;br /&gt;Tommy, Jen and I think of you often - try to remember us while your disks are booting.&lt;br /&gt;Love, Mary&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4532700272260958093?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4532700272260958093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4532700272260958093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4532700272260958093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4532700272260958093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/computer-addict.html' title='Computer Addict'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3869236990862452600</id><published>2008-09-14T03:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T03:42:02.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bill Gates Meets His Match</title><content type='html'>The following is a conversation overheard as Bill Gates was moving into his new house...Bill: "There are a few issues we need to discuss."Contractor: "Ah, you have our basic support option. Calls are free for the first 90 days and $75 a call thereafter. Okay?"Bill: "Uh, yeah... the first issue is the living room. We think its a little smaller than we anticipated."Contractor: "Yeah. Some compromises were made to have it out by the release date."Bill: "We won't be able to fit all our furniture in there."Contractor: "Well, you have two options. You can purchase a new, larger living room; or you can use a Stacker."Bill: "Stacker?"Contractor: "Yeah, it allows you to fit twice as much furniture into the room. By stacking it, of course, you put the entertainment center on the couch... the chairs on the table... etc. You leave an empty spot, so when you want to use some furniture you can unstack what you need and then put it back when you're done."Bill: "Uh... I dunno... issue two. The second issue is the light fixtures. The bulbs we brought with us from our old home won't fit. The threads run the wrong way."Contractor: "Oh! That's easy. Those bulbs aren't plug and play. You'll have to upgrade to the new bulbs."Bill: "And the electrical outlets? The holes are round, not rectangular. How do I fix that?"Contractor: "Just uninstall and reinstall the electrical system."Bill: "You're kidding!?"Contractor: "Nope. Its the only way."Bill: " Well... I have one last problem. Sometimes, when I have guests over, someone will flush the toilet and it won't stop. The water pressure drops so low that the showers don't work."Contractor: "That's a resource leakage problem. One fixture is failing to terminate and is hogging the resources preventing access from other fixtures."Bill: "And how do I fix that?"Contractor: "Well, after each flush, you all need to exit the house, turn off the water at the street, turn it back on, reenter the house and then you can get back to work."Bill: "That's the last straw. What kind of product are you selling me?"Contractor: "Hey, if you don't like it nobody made you buy it."Bill: "And when will this be fixed?"Contractor: "Oh, in your next house -- which will be ready to release sometime near the end of next year. Actually it was due out this year, but we've had some delays..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3869236990862452600?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3869236990862452600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3869236990862452600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3869236990862452600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3869236990862452600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/bill-gates-meets-his-match.html' title='Bill Gates Meets His Match'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8277279877447951256</id><published>2008-09-12T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T22:58:27.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Things Cat Lovers Know</title><content type='html'>Here is a list of 25 things that cat-lovers know, but won't admit.&lt;br /&gt;- An aquarium is just interactive television for cats.&lt;br /&gt;- Anything on the ground is a cat toy. Anything not there yet, will be.&lt;br /&gt;- Dogs do what you tell them to do. Cats take a message and get back to you.&lt;br /&gt;- Buy a dog a toy and it will play with it for ever. Buy a cat a present and it will play with the wrapper for 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;- A cat's motto is no matter what you've done wrong, always try to make it look like the dog did it.&lt;br /&gt;- A cat bites the hand that won't feed it fast enough.&lt;br /&gt;- Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a good many ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.&lt;br /&gt;- Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow.&lt;br /&gt;- Cats aren't clean, they're just covered with cat spit.&lt;br /&gt;- Cats don't hunt seals. They would if they knew what they were and where to find them. But they don't, so that's all right.&lt;br /&gt;- Cats instinctively know the exact moment their owners will wake up. Then they wake them 10 minutes sooner.&lt;br /&gt;- Cats know what we feel. They don't care, but they know.&lt;br /&gt;- Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.&lt;br /&gt;- Dogs have owners. Cats have staff.&lt;br /&gt;- Dogs believe they are human. Cats believe they are God.&lt;br /&gt;- I had to get rid of my wife. The cat was allergic.&lt;br /&gt;- I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior.&lt;br /&gt;- In a cat's eye, all things belong to cats.&lt;br /&gt;- On the Internet, nobody knows you're a cat.&lt;br /&gt;- One cat just leads to another.&lt;br /&gt;- People that hate cats will come back as mice in their next life.&lt;br /&gt;- Some people say that cats are sneaky, evil, and cruel. It's all true, and they have many other fine qualities as well.&lt;br /&gt;- There are many intelligent species in the universe. They are all owned by cats.&lt;br /&gt;- When I wash the cat, it takes me hours to get the hair off my tongue.&lt;br /&gt;- You can always tell a cat, but you can't tell him much&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8277279877447951256?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8277279877447951256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8277279877447951256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8277279877447951256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8277279877447951256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/25-things-cat-lovers-know.html' title='25 Things Cat Lovers Know'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-6374778920202990271</id><published>2008-09-12T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T03:33:05.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubba's New Truck</title><content type='html'>One day, Jimmy Jones was walking down Main Street when he saw his buddy Bubba driving a brand new pickup. Bubba pulled up to him with a wide grin. Bubba, where'd you git that truck?!?" Tammie give it to me" Bubba replied. "She give it to ya? I know'd she wuz kinda sweet on ya, but a New truck?" "Well, Jimmy Jones, let me tell you what happened. We wuz drivin' out on County Road 6, in the middle of nowheres. Tammie pulled off the road, put the truck in 4-wheel drive, and headed into the woods. She parked the truck, got out, threw off all her clothes and said, 'Bubba, take whatever you want.' So I took the truck! " "Bubba, yore a smart man! Them clothes woulda never fit you!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-6374778920202990271?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6374778920202990271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=6374778920202990271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6374778920202990271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6374778920202990271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/bubbas-new-truck.html' title='Bubba&apos;s New Truck'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1283500674672461201</id><published>2008-09-11T02:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T02:37:06.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing Craps</title><content type='html'>Two bored casino dealers were waiting at a craps table. A very attractive blonde woman arrived and bet twenty- thousand dollars on a single roll of the dice. She said, "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude." With that she stripped from her neck down, rolled the dice and yelled, "Mama needs new clothes!" Then she hollered... "YES! YES! I WON! I WON!" She jumped up and down and hugged each of the dealers. She then picked up all the money and clothes and quickly departed. The dealers just stared at each other dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?" The other answered, "I don't know I thought YOU were watching!" Moral: Not all blondes are dumb, but all men are men.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1283500674672461201?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1283500674672461201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1283500674672461201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1283500674672461201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1283500674672461201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/playing-craps.html' title='Playing Craps'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1162050562954384688</id><published>2008-09-10T02:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T02:16:41.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fisherman</title><content type='html'>One day a fisherman was lying on a beautiful beach, with his fishing pole propped up in the sand and his solitary line cast out into the sparkling blue surf. He was enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun and the prospect of catching a fish. About that time, a businessman came walking down the beach, trying to relieve some of the stress of his workday. He noticed the fisherman sitting on the beach and decided to find out why this fisherman was fishing instead of working harder to make a living for himself and his family. "You aren't going to catch many fish that way," said the businessman to the fisherman, "you should be working rather than lying on the beach!" The fisherman looked up at the businessman, smiled and replied, "And what will my reward be?" "Well, you can get bigger nets and catch more fish!" was the businessman's answer. "And then what will my reward be?" asked the fisherman, still smiling. The businessman replied, "You will make money and you'll be able to buy a boat, which will then result in larger catches of fish!" "And then what will my reward be?" asked the fisherman again. The businessman was beginning to get a little irritated with the fisherman's questions. "You can buy a bigger boat, and hire some people to work for you!" he said. "And then what will my reward be?" repeated the fisherman. The businessman was getting angry. "Don't you understand? You can build up a fleet of fishing boats, sail all over the world, and let all your employees catch fish for you!" Once again the fisherman asked, "And then what will my reward be?" The businessman was red with rage and shouted at the fisherman, "Don't you understand that you can become so rich that you will never have to work for your living again! You can spend all the rest of your days sitting on this beach, looking at the sunset. You won't have a care in the world!" The fisherman, still smiling, looked up and said, "And what do you think I'm doing right now?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1162050562954384688?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1162050562954384688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1162050562954384688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1162050562954384688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1162050562954384688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/fisherman.html' title='The Fisherman'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5669265290235740608</id><published>2008-09-09T16:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T16:49:51.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mating the Bull</title><content type='html'>A man takes his wife to the cattle show. They start heading down the alley that houses all the bulls. The sign on the first bull's stall states "This bull mated 50 times last year. The wife turns to her husband and says, "He mated 50 times in a year,isn't that nice!." They proceed to the next bull and his sign stated: "This bull mated 65 times last year." The wife turns to her husband and says, "This one mated 65 times last year. That is over 5 times a month. You could learn from this one!" They proceeded to the last bull and his sign said: "This bull mated 365 times last year." The wife's mouth drops open and says, "WOW! He mated 365 times last year. That is ONCE A DAY!! You could really learn from this one." The annoyed man turns to his wife and says, "Go up and inquire if it was 365 times with the same cow."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5669265290235740608?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5669265290235740608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5669265290235740608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5669265290235740608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5669265290235740608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/mating-bull.html' title='Mating the Bull'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4543784394918000395</id><published>2008-09-08T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:48:53.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Johnny's Grandmother</title><content type='html'>Little Johnny and his grandmother were shopping in a department store. Little Johnny wanted to go to the toy department, but grandmother said that they had to stop in the ladies clothing department first. He obviously couldn't wait that long, and the next time his grandmother turned around he was gone. She panicked and looked everywhere for him, but he had disappeared. Finally she went to the customer service desk, intending to have them announce his name over the PA system. To her relief he was already there waiting for her. The woman at the desk said, "He wanted us to announce your name over the PA system, but he didn't' know what your name was. We asked him what his daddy called you, and he replied 'mom', next we asked him what Grandpa called you and he replied 'sugar'. We were almost out of questions for him when another lady suggested that your daughter-in-law might call you by your first name." "We were so happy to see you show up at the desk," she continued, "because when we asked him what his mommy called you, we were out of ideas!" "Well," asked Little Johnny's grandmother curiously, "What did he say?" "He said," she replied, "that his mother called you 'A BITCH'!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4543784394918000395?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4543784394918000395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4543784394918000395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4543784394918000395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4543784394918000395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-johnnys-grandmother.html' title='Little Johnny&apos;s Grandmother'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1648625626055901345</id><published>2008-09-08T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:47:03.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Bowl</title><content type='html'>Bob is awarded a free ticket to the Super Bowl by his company. Unfortunately, when he arrives at the game, he realizes the seat is way up in the last row in a remote corner of the stadium. He can barely make out the tiny green rectangle far below. Then, about halfway into the first quarter, Bob notices an empty seat just a few rows off the field, right on the 50-yard line. He decides to go for it and makes his long way down through the stadium, sweet-talks his way past the security guards, and sits in the empty seat. He asks a man in the next seat "Say, is anybody sitting here?". The man says "Nope". Thrilled to find such a great seat for the game, Bob again inquires of the man next to him, "This is incredible! Who in the world would hold a seat like this for the Super Bowl and not use it?" The man in the next seat replies, "Actually, the seat belongs to me. I was planning to be here with my wife, but she passed away. This is the first Super Bowl we haven't watched together since we married 35 years ago." Bob expresses solemn condolences: "Gee, that sure is sad, sir. But couldn't you have found somebody else to share your seats - a relative or a close friend, perhaps?" "Nope," the man replies, trying to concentrate on the game. "They're all at the funeral".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1648625626055901345?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1648625626055901345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1648625626055901345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1648625626055901345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1648625626055901345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/super-bowl.html' title='Super Bowl'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1595265913644844177</id><published>2008-09-08T02:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T03:05:27.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Prostitutes</title><content type='html'>Two prostitutes were riding around town with a sign on top of their car which said, "TWO PROSTITUTES.......$50.00." A policeman, seeing the sign, stopped them and told them they'd either have to remove the sign or go to jail. Just at that time, another car passed with a sign saying, "JESUS SAVES." They asked the cop why he let the other car go and he said, "Well, that's a little different, it pertains to religion." So the two ladies took their sign down and took off. The following day found the same cop in the area when he noticed the two ladies driving around with a large sign on their car again. Figuring he had an easy bust, he began to catch up with them when he noticed the new sign which read... "TWO ANGELS SEEKING PETER...$50.00."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1595265913644844177?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1595265913644844177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1595265913644844177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1595265913644844177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1595265913644844177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/two-prostitutes.html' title='Two Prostitutes'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4201956930993574949</id><published>2008-09-07T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T06:05:24.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CARTOON FUNNYS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SMPRZZ1Vx7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/qc25eXhL3pM/s1600-h/animal-picture102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243264625550935986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SMPRZZ1Vx7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/qc25eXhL3pM/s400/animal-picture102.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SMPRNM2mBfI/AAAAAAAAAC0/9r5JddwWYFc/s1600-h/animal-picture100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243264415908103666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SMPRNM2mBfI/AAAAAAAAAC0/9r5JddwWYFc/s400/animal-picture100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SMPRBJsRKSI/AAAAAAAAACs/I8VitOc1iP4/s1600-h/animal-picture89.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243264208901056802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SMPRBJsRKSI/AAAAAAAAACs/I8VitOc1iP4/s400/animal-picture89.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4201956930993574949?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4201956930993574949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4201956930993574949' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4201956930993574949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4201956930993574949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/cartoon-funnys.html' title='CARTOON FUNNYS'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SMPRZZ1Vx7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/qc25eXhL3pM/s72-c/animal-picture102.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8909658280240333844</id><published>2008-09-07T00:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T00:07:59.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Wishes from a Frog</title><content type='html'>A woman was out golfing one day when she hit her ball into the woods. She went into the woods to look for it and found a frog in a trap. The frog said to her, "If you release me from this trap, I will grant you 3 wishes." The woman freed the frog and the frog said, "Thank you, but I failed to mention that there was a condition to your wishes - that whatever you wish for, your husband will get 10 times more or better!" The woman said, "That would be okay," and for her first wish, she wanted to be the most beautiful woman in the world. The frog warned her, "You do realize that this wish will also make your husband the most handsome man in the world, an Adonis, that women will flock to." The woman replied, "That will be okay because I will be the most beautiful woman and he will only have eyes for me." So, KAZAM - she's the most beautiful woman in the world! For her second wish, she! wanted to be the richest woman in the world. The frog said, "That will make your husband the richest man in the world and he will be ten times richer than you." The woman said, "That will be okay because what is mine is his and what is his is mine." So, KAZAM she's the richest woman in the world! The frog then inquired about her third wish, and she replied......"I'd like a mild heart attack." Moral of the story: Women are clever bitches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8909658280240333844?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8909658280240333844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8909658280240333844' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8909658280240333844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8909658280240333844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/three-wishes-from-frog.html' title='Three Wishes from a Frog'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3785161820767995498</id><published>2008-09-06T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T18:50:39.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birds, Bees, and Planes</title><content type='html'>A mother and her son were flying "Southwest Airlines" from Kansas to Chicago. The son (who had been looking out the window) turned to his mother and said, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" The mother (who couldn't think of an answer) told her son to ask the stewardess. So the boy asked the stewardess, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" The stewardess asked, "Did your mother tell you to ask me?" He said that his mother had. So the stewardess said, "Tell your mother that Southwest always pulls out on time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3785161820767995498?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3785161820767995498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3785161820767995498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3785161820767995498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3785161820767995498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/birds-bees-and-planes.html' title='Birds, Bees, and Planes'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5248504669528856582</id><published>2008-09-06T00:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T00:43:56.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunk Irishman</title><content type='html'>An Irishman had been drinking at a pub all night. The bartender finally said that the bar was closing. So the Irishman stood up to leave and fell flat on his face. He tried to stand one more time; same result. He figured he'll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up. Once outside he stood up and fell flat on his face. So he decided to crawl the 4 blocks to his home. When he arrived at the door he stood up and again fell flat on his face. He crawled through the door and into his bedroom. When he reached his bed he tried one more time to stand up. This time he managed to pull himself upright, but he quickly fell right into bed and was sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was awakened the next morning to his wife standing over him, shouting, "So, you've been out drinking again!!" "What makes you say that?" he asked, putting on an innocent look. "The pub called -- you left your wheelchair there again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5248504669528856582?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5248504669528856582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5248504669528856582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5248504669528856582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5248504669528856582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/drunk-irishman.html' title='Drunk Irishman'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-6073618643038477592</id><published>2008-09-05T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T09:14:22.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take a Leak</title><content type='html'>A man took his wife to a Broadway show. During the first intermission he had to take a leak in the worst way, so he hurried to find the bathrooms.&lt;br /&gt;He searched in vain for the bathrooms, but he finally found a beautiful fountain with foliage, and since nobody was watching, so he decided to take a leak right there.&lt;br /&gt;When he finally got back into the auditorium, the second act had already begun. He searched in the dark until he found his wife. “Did I miss much of the second act?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Miss it?” she said, “You were in it!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-6073618643038477592?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6073618643038477592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=6073618643038477592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6073618643038477592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6073618643038477592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/take-leak.html' title='Take a Leak'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3937208170788034855</id><published>2008-09-05T02:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T02:39:23.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girlfriend 7.0</title><content type='html'>Dear Tech Support: Last year I upgraded from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0. I soon noticed that the new program began unexpected child processing that took up a lot of space and valuable resources. In addition, Wife 1.0 installed itself into all other programs and now monitors all other system activity. Applications such as Poker Night 10.3, Football 5.0, Hunting and Fishing 7.5, and Racing 3.6 no longer run, crashing the system whenever selected. I can't seem to keep Wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to run my favorite applications. I'm thinking about going back to Girlfriend 7.0, but the uninstall doesn't work on Wife 1.0. Please help! Thanks,A Troubled User (KEEP READING) ______________________________________ REPLY:Dear Troubled User: This is a very common problem that men complain about. Many people upgrade from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0, thinking that it is just a Utilities and Entertainment program. Wife 1.0 is an OPERATING SYSTEM and is designed by its Creator to run EVERYTHING!!! It is also impossible to delete Wife 1.0 and to return to Girlfriend 7.0. It is impossible to uninstall, or purge the program files from the system once installed. You cannot go back to Girlfriend 7.0 because Wife 1.0 is designed to not allow this. Look in your Wife 1.0 manual under Warnings-Alimony-Child Support. I recommend that you keep Wife1.0 and work on improving the situation. I suggest installing the background application "Yes Dear" to alleviate software augmentation. The best course of action is to enter the command C:\APOLOGIZE because ultimately you will have to give the APOLOGIZE command before the system will return to normal anyway. Wife 1.0 is a great program, but it tends to be very high maintenance. Wife 1.0 comes with several support programs, such as Clean and Sweep 3.0, Cook It 1.5 and Do Bills 4.2. However, be very careful how you use these programs. Improper use will cause the system to launch the program Nag Nag 9.5. Once this happens, the only way to improve the performance of Wife 1.0 is to purchase additional software. I recommend Flowers 2.1 and Diamonds 5.0! WARNING!!! DO NOT, under any circumstances, install Secretary With Short Skirt 3.3. This application is not supported by Wife 1.0 and will cause irreversible damage to the operating system. Best of luck, Tech Support&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3937208170788034855?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3937208170788034855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3937208170788034855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3937208170788034855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3937208170788034855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/girlfriend-70.html' title='Girlfriend 7.0'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-6599998362289710781</id><published>2008-09-04T02:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T08:22:27.792-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CARTOON FUNNYS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SL_9AvthdTI/AAAAAAAAACk/lThd61SsFlo/s1600-h/cookie-monster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242186680531776818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SL_9AvthdTI/AAAAAAAAACk/lThd61SsFlo/s400/cookie-monster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SL-vAMdbvxI/AAAAAAAAACc/G1copNP9MwM/s1600-h/complaints.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242100909162086162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SL-vAMdbvxI/AAAAAAAAACc/G1copNP9MwM/s400/complaints.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-6599998362289710781?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6599998362289710781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=6599998362289710781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6599998362289710781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6599998362289710781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/complaint-dept.html' title='CARTOON FUNNYS'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SL_9AvthdTI/AAAAAAAAACk/lThd61SsFlo/s72-c/cookie-monster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3498203113328930944</id><published>2008-09-04T01:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T01:37:00.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gunshot Wound</title><content type='html'>Aging Mildred was a 93 year old woman who was particularly despondent over the recent death of her husband Earl. She decided that she would just kill herself and join him in death. Thinking that it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out Earl's old Army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart since it was so badly broken in the first place. Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become a vegetable and a burden to someone, she called her doctor's office to inquire as to just exactly where the heart would be. "On a woman," the doctor said, "the heart would be just below the left breast." Later that night, Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to her knee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3498203113328930944?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3498203113328930944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3498203113328930944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3498203113328930944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3498203113328930944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/gunshot-wound.html' title='Gunshot Wound'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8958995314925550378</id><published>2008-09-03T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T04:50:25.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aging Her Peers</title><content type='html'>Have You Ever Been Guilty Of Looking At Others Your Own Age And Thinking, Surely I Can't Look That Old. Well.. You'll Love This One. My Name Is Alice Smith And I Was Sitting In The Waiting Room For My First Appointment With A New Dentist I Noticed His Dds Diploma, Which Bore His Full Name. Suddenly, I Remembered A Tall, Handsome, Dark-haired Boy, With The Same Name, Had Been In My High School Class Some 30-odd Years Ago. Could He Be The Same Guy That I Had A Secret Crush On, Way Back Then? Upon Seeing Him, However, I Quickly Discarded Any Such Thought. This Balding, Gray-haired Man With The Deeply Lined Face Was Way Too Old To Have Been My Classmate. After He Examined My Teeth, I Asked Him If He Had Attended Fairview High School. 'yes. Yes, I Did. I'm A Bulldog,' He Gleamed With Pride. 'when Did You Graduate?' I Asked. He Answered , In 1975. Why Do You Ask?' 'you Were In My Class!', I Exclaimed. He Looked At Me Closely. Then, That Ugly, Old, Bald, Wrinkled, Fat Ass, Gray-haired, Decrepit Son-of-a-bitch Asked, 'what Did You Teach ???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8958995314925550378?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8958995314925550378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8958995314925550378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8958995314925550378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8958995314925550378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/aging-her-peers.html' title='Aging Her Peers'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3405356056362825693</id><published>2008-09-02T05:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T05:26:46.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Blind Pilots</title><content type='html'>One day at a busy airport, the passengers on a commercial airliner are seated, waiting for the cockpit crew to show up so they can get under way. The pilot and co-pilot finally appear in the rear of the plane, and begin walking up to the cockpit through the center aisle. Both appear to be blind. The pilot is using a white cane, bumping into passengers right and left as he stumbles down the aisle, and the co-pilot is using a guide dog. Both have their eyes covered with huge sunglasses. At first the passengers do not react; thinking that it must be some sort of practical joke. However, after a few minutes the engines start spooling up and the airplane starts moving down the runway. The passengers look at each other with some uneasiness, whispering among themselves and looking desperately to the stewardesses for reassurance. Then the airplane starts accelerating rapidly and people begin panicking. Some passengers are praying, and as the plane gets closer and closer to the end of the runway, the voices are becoming more and more hysterical. Finally, when the airplane has less than 20 feet of runway left, there is a sudden change in the pitch of the shouts as everyone screams at once, and at the very last moment the airplane lifts off and is airborne. Up in the cockpit, the co-pilot breathes a sigh of relief and turns to the Captain, "You know, one of these days the passengers aren't going to scream and we're gonna get killed!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3405356056362825693?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3405356056362825693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3405356056362825693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3405356056362825693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3405356056362825693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/two-blind-pilots.html' title='Two Blind Pilots'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8884736975219707382</id><published>2008-09-01T02:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T02:19:44.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stolen Car</title><content type='html'>After shopping for most of the day, a couple returns to find their car has been stolen. They go to the police station to make a full report. Then, a detective drives them back to the parking lot to see if any evidence can be found at the scene of the crime. To their amazement, the car has been returned. There is an envelope on the windshield with a note of apology and two tickets to a music concert. The note reads, 'I apologize for taking your car, but my wife was having a baby and I had to hot-wire your ignition to rush her to the hospital. Please forgive the inconvenience. Here are two tickets for tonight's concert of Garth Brooks, the country-and-western music star.' Their faith in humanity restored, the couple attend the concert and return home late. They find their house has been robbed. Valuable goods have been taken from thoughout the house, from basement to attic. And, there is a note on the door reading, 'Well, you still have your car. I have to put my newly born kid through college somehow, don't I?'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8884736975219707382?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8884736975219707382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8884736975219707382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8884736975219707382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8884736975219707382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/09/stolen-car.html' title='Stolen Car'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-5139500554463589168</id><published>2008-08-31T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T06:06:14.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Redneck's 12 Children</title><content type='html'>An Arkansas woman is in the welfare office filling out forms. The welfare officer asks her how many children she has? "Ten boys." "And their names?" "Leroy, Leroy, Leroy, Leroy, Leroy, Leroy, Leroy, Leroy, Leroy, and Leroy." "All named Leroy? Why would you name them all Leroy?" "That way, when I wants them all to come in from the yard, I just yells 'LEROY!', and when I wants them all to come to dinner, I just yells 'LEROY!'" "What if you just want a particular one of them to do something?" "Then I calls him by his last name."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-5139500554463589168?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5139500554463589168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=5139500554463589168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5139500554463589168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/5139500554463589168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/rednecks-12-children.html' title='Redneck&apos;s 12 Children'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2088904716959088412</id><published>2008-08-30T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T21:02:53.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>give me those treats</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SLoXtHm90YI/AAAAAAAAACU/BbNqjvRd-OM/s1600-h/funny-pic-(funshun_com)54.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240527180303028610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SLoXtHm90YI/AAAAAAAAACU/BbNqjvRd-OM/s400/funny-pic-(funshun_com)54.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2088904716959088412?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2088904716959088412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2088904716959088412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2088904716959088412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2088904716959088412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/give-me-those-treats.html' title='give me those treats'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SLoXtHm90YI/AAAAAAAAACU/BbNqjvRd-OM/s72-c/funny-pic-(funshun_com)54.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2780245745901455315</id><published>2008-08-30T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T02:35:03.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken Sandwiches</title><content type='html'>A little boy and a little girl attended the same school and became friends. Every day they would sit together to eat their lunch.They discovered that they both brought chicken sandwiches every day!This went on all through the fourth and fifth grades, until one day he noticed that her sandwich wasn't a chicken sandwich. He said, "Hey, how come you're not eating chicken, don't you like it anymore?" She said "I love it but I have to stop eating it.""Why?" he asked. She pointed to her lap and said "Cause I'm starting to grow little feathers down there!" "Let me see" he said. "Okay" and she pulled up her skirt. He looked and said, "That's right. You are! Better not eat any more chicken." He kept eating his chicken sandwiches until one day he brought peanut butter. He said to the little girl, "I have to stop eating chicken sandwiches,I'm starting to get feathers down there too!" She asked if she could look, so he pulled down his pants for her. She said, "Oh, my God, it's too late for you! You've already got the neck and the gizzards."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2780245745901455315?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2780245745901455315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2780245745901455315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2780245745901455315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2780245745901455315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/chicken-sandwiches.html' title='Chicken Sandwiches'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1401138315645156764</id><published>2008-08-29T03:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T03:39:37.685-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Nurses</title><content type='html'>Three nurses went to heaven, and were awaiting their turn with St. Peter to plead their case to enter the pearly gates. The first nurse said, "I worked in an emergency room. We tried our best to help patients, but occasionally we did lose one. I think I deserve to go to heaven." St. Peter looks at her file and admits her to heaven. The second nurse says, "I worked in an operating room. It's a very high stress environment and we do our best. Sometimes the patients are too sick and we lose them, but overall we try very hard." St. Peter looks at her file and admits her to heaven. The third nurse says, "I was a case manager for an HMO." St. Peter looks at her file. He pulls out a calculator and starts punching away at it furiously, constantly going back to the nurse's file. After a few minutes St. Peter looks up, smiles, and says, "Congratulations! You've been admitted to heaven ... for five days!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1401138315645156764?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1401138315645156764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1401138315645156764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1401138315645156764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1401138315645156764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/three-nurses.html' title='Three Nurses'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8709425867457815365</id><published>2008-08-28T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T04:52:23.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rolls Royce</title><content type='html'>A blonde walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan officer. She says she's going to Europe on business for two weeks and needs to borrow $5,000. The bank officer says the bank will need some kind of security for the loan, so the blonde hands over the keys to a new Rolls Royce. The car is parked on the street in front of the bank, she has the title and everything checks out. The bank agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan. The bank's president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the blonde for using a $250,000 Rolls as collateral against a $5,000 loan. An employee of the bank then proceeds to drive the Rolls into the bank's underground garage and parks it there.&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks later, the blonde returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41. The loan officer says, "Miss, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multimillionaire. What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?" The blond replies......................"Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return?" Finally, a smart blond.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8709425867457815365?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8709425867457815365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8709425867457815365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8709425867457815365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8709425867457815365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/rolls-royce.html' title='Rolls Royce'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-6245475350684134222</id><published>2008-08-27T06:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T06:21:57.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cowboy in a Gay Bar</title><content type='html'>A cowboy walks into a bar and two steps in, he realizes it's a gay bar. But decides, what the heck," as he says to himself. I really need a drink." When the gay waiter approaches, he says to the cowboy, What's the name of your penis?" The cowboy says, "Look, I'm not Into any of that. All I want is a drink." The gay waiter says, " I'm sorry but I can't serve you until you tell me the name of your penis. Mine for instance is called Nike, for the slogan 'Just Do It'. That guy down at the end of the Bar calls his Snickers, because it really Satisfies." The cowboy looks dumbfounded so the bartender tells him he'll give him a second to think it over. The cowboy turns to the man drinking a beer and sitting to his left and asks, "Hey bud, what's the name of yours?" The man looks back and says with a smile "TIMEX." The thirsty cowboy asks, "Why Timex?" The fella proudly replies, "Cause it takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin!" A little shaken, the cowboy turns to two fella's on his right, who happens to be sharing a fruity Margarita and asks, "So, What do you guys call yours?" The first man turns to him and proudly exclaims, "FORD, because Quality is Job One. "Then he adds, "Have you driven a Ford Lately?" The guy next to him then says, "I call mine CHEVY....Like a Rock!" And gives a wink. Even more shaken by all this the Cowboy has to think for a moment before he comes up with a name for his manhood. Finally, he turns to the bartender and exclaims, "The name of my penis is SECRET. Now give me a damn beer." The bartender brings a beer and as he begins to pour it he turns to the cowboy with a puzzled look and asks, "Why Secret?" The cowboy says, Because it's STRONG ENOUGH FOR A MAN BUT MADE FOR A WOMAN!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-6245475350684134222?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6245475350684134222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=6245475350684134222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6245475350684134222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6245475350684134222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/cowboy-in-gay-bar.html' title='Cowboy in a Gay Bar'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4607828466922452422</id><published>2008-08-26T05:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T05:53:51.515-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chiropractor</title><content type='html'>A lawyer was standing in a long line to get tickets for a play. Suddenly, he felt the hands of the man behind him, kneading into his back. He turned and gave the man a stern look, and the kneading stopped. But a few minutes later, he again felt the man's hands on his back. "Excuse me," the lawyer asked, "But why are you touching my back?" "I'm a chiropractor," the man replied, "and I sometimes I can't keep myself from practicing my skills." "Get control of yourself," the lawyer shot back. "I'm an attorney, and you don't see me screwing the guy in front of me, do you?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4607828466922452422?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4607828466922452422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4607828466922452422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4607828466922452422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4607828466922452422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/chiropractor.html' title='Chiropractor'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-1618358575723307194</id><published>2008-08-25T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T08:09:12.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Supermarket Embarrasment</title><content type='html'>A lady was picking up several items at a discount store. When she finally got up to the checker, she learned that one of her items had no price tag. Imagine her embarrassment when the checker got on the intercom and boomed out for all the store to hear: "PRICE CHECK ON LANE 13,TAMPAX, SUPERSIZE." That was bad enough, but somebody at the rear of the store apparently misunderstood the word "tampax" for "THUMBTACKS." In a business-like tone, a voice boomed back over the intercom: "DO YOU WANT THE KIND YOU PUSH IN WITH YOUR THUMB OR THE KIND YOU POUND IN WITH A HAMMER?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-1618358575723307194?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1618358575723307194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=1618358575723307194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1618358575723307194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/1618358575723307194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/supermarket-embarrasment.html' title='Supermarket Embarrasment'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2782458675632230807</id><published>2008-08-24T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T23:51:35.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumb Barber</title><content type='html'>A guy sticks his head into a barber shop and asks "Hey, Buddy! how long before I can get a haircut?" The barber look around the shop and says "about 2 hours," and the guy leaves. A few days later the same guy sticks his head in the door and asks..."how long before I can get a haircut?" Again, the barber looks around at shop full of customers and says "about 2 hours." The guy leaves. A week later the same guy sticks his head in the shop and asks "how long before I can get a haircut?" The barber looks around the shop and says "about an hour and a half". The guy leaves. The barber looks over at a friend in the shop and says "Hey, Joey, I'll give you a free cut if you follow that guy and see where he goes." In a little while, Joey comes back into the shop laughing hysterically. The barber says, "this must be good, where did he go when he left here?" Joey says, "To your house!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2782458675632230807?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2782458675632230807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2782458675632230807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2782458675632230807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2782458675632230807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/dumb-barber.html' title='Dumb Barber'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3842160388146974316</id><published>2008-08-24T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T02:14:18.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Wishes</title><content type='html'>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. 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." The Genie nodded and after a huge cloud of dust cleared, the Genie was gone and so was the lamp. 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. 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;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3842160388146974316?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3842160388146974316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3842160388146974316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3842160388146974316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3842160388146974316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/three-wishes.html' title='Three Wishes'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2690635159396675261</id><published>2008-08-23T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T06:49:18.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Screw</title><content type='html'>It's the summer of 1957 and Harold goes to pick up his date, Peggy Sue. Harold's a pretty hip guy with his own car and a duck tail hairdo. When he goes to the front door, Peggy Sue's mother answers and invites him in. "Peggy Sue's not ready yet, so why don't you have a seat?" she says. That's cool. Peggy Sue's mother asks Harold what they're planning to do. Harold replies politely that they will probably just go to the malt shop or to a drive in movie. Peggy Sue's mother responds, "Why don't you kids go out and screw? I hear all the kids are doing it." Naturally this comes as quite a surprise to Harold and he says, "Wha...aaat?" "Yeah," says Peggy Sue's mother, "We know Peggy Sue really likes to screw; why, she'd screw all night if we let her!" Harold's eyes light up and he smiles from ear to ear. Immediately, he has revised the plans for the evening. A few minutes later, Peggy Sue comes downstairs in her little poodle skirt with her saddle shoes, and announces that she's ready to go. Almost breathless with anticipation, Harold escorts his date out the front door while Mom is saying, "Have a good evening kids," with a small wink for Harold. About 20 minutes later, a thoroughly disheveled Peggy Sue rushes back into the house, slams the door behind her and screams at her mother: "Dammit, Mom! The Twist! The Twist! It's called The Twist!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2690635159396675261?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2690635159396675261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2690635159396675261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2690635159396675261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2690635159396675261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/screw.html' title='Screw'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-6419335027183805310</id><published>2008-08-22T05:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T05:03:45.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Does Your Sign Say?</title><content type='html'>Carlos panhandles just as long as Jose but only collects 2 to 3 dollars every day. Jose brings home a suitcase FULL of $10 bills, drives a Mercedes, lives in a mortgage free house and has a lot of money to spend. Carlos says to Jose, "I work just as long and hard as you do but how do you bring home a suitcase full of $10 bills every day?". Jose says, .... "Look at your sign, what does it say?" Carlos' sign reads, "I have no work, a wife and 6 kids to support." Jose says, "No wonder you only get $2-3 dollars." Carlos says, "So what does your sign say?" Jose shows Carlos his sign...... It reads, "I only need another $10.00 to move back to Mexico&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-6419335027183805310?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6419335027183805310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=6419335027183805310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6419335027183805310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/6419335027183805310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-does-your-sign-say.html' title='What Does Your Sign Say?'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8382539423884634152</id><published>2008-08-21T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T21:12:29.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Official Announcement</title><content type='html'>The federal government today announced that it is changing its emblem from an Eagle to a Condom, because it more accurately reflects the government's political stance. A condom allows for inflation, halts production, destroys the next generation, protects a bunch of pricks, and gives you a sense of security while you're actually being screwed! It just doesn't get more accurate than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8382539423884634152?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8382539423884634152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8382539423884634152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8382539423884634152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8382539423884634152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/official-announcement.html' title='Official Announcement'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-3263504960861963278</id><published>2008-08-21T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T12:03:21.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rude Bus Driver</title><content type='html'>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." 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?" She replied "I am. That bus driver just insulted me." "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. "You're right sir I think I will report him." The elderly man says, "You go on up there and get his badge number. I'll hold your monkey for you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-3263504960861963278?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3263504960861963278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=3263504960861963278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3263504960861963278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/3263504960861963278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/rude-bus-driver.html' title='Rude Bus Driver'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-4946229473377270010</id><published>2008-08-21T11:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T11:55:53.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-4946229473377270010?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4946229473377270010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=4946229473377270010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4946229473377270010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/4946229473377270010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-post_5516.html' title=''/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-8248508256408754487</id><published>2008-08-21T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T05:36:36.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 DOG RATING</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s1600-h/fdog.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236948659546279122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s400/fdog.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s1600-h/fdog.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236948659546279122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s400/fdog.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s1600-h/fdog.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236948659546279122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s400/fdog.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s1600-h/fdog.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236948659546279122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s400/fdog.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s1600-h/fdog.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236948659546279122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s400/fdog.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-8248508256408754487?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8248508256408754487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=8248508256408754487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8248508256408754487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/8248508256408754487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/5-dog-rating.html' title='5 DOG RATING'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1hDy82zNI/AAAAAAAAACI/IE5nXQ3vDto/s72-c/fdog.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-2219227225753939010</id><published>2008-08-21T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T03:45:01.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BEECH OR BIRCH</title><content type='html'>It is hard to find a joke today without a dirty word or two in it, but, here is one:Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A small tree begins to grow between them, and the beech says to the birch: "Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?"The birch says he cannot tell.Just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling.The birch says: "Woodpecker, you are a tree expert...can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?"The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree. He replies:"It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch. It is, however, the best piece of Ash I have ever put my pecker in"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-2219227225753939010?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2219227225753939010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=2219227225753939010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2219227225753939010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/2219227225753939010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/beech-or-birch.html' title='BEECH OR BIRCH'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2778645937008886492.post-529582539428057351</id><published>2008-08-20T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T16:27:28.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing everything</title><content type='html'>A young man saw an elderly couple sitting down to lunch at McDonald's. He noticed that they had ordered one meal, and an extra drink cup. As he watched, the gentleman carefully divided the hamburger in half, then counted out the fries, one for him, one for her, until each had half of them. Then he poured half of the soft drink into the extra cup and set that in front of his wife. The old man then began to eat, and his wife sat watching, with her hands folded in her lap. The young man decided to ask if they would allow him to purchase another meal for them so that they didn't have to split theirs. The old gentleman said, "Oh no. We've been married 50 years, and everything has always been and will always be shared, 50/50." The young man then asked the wife if she was going to eat, and she replied, "It's his turn with the teeth."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2778645937008886492-529582539428057351?l=ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/529582539428057351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2778645937008886492&amp;postID=529582539428057351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/529582539428057351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2778645937008886492/posts/default/529582539428057351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ticklemewithjokes.blogspot.com/2008/08/sharing-everything.html' title='Sharing everything'/><author><name>Joseph</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14896260673889351989</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JEKX_hluc1Y/SK1eTFXZ3rI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zfPKr0GASP4/S220/fdog.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
