<?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:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566</id><updated>2010-04-01T19:31:11.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Jokes ***</title><subtitle type='html'>Humor - Jokes</subtitle><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/blog.html'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.jokes7.info/atom.xml'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-8367780248460986573</id><published>2010-04-01T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T19:27:49.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Posts</title><summary type='text'>.To see new posts visit http://www.jokes7.info/.</summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='New Posts'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8367780248460986573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8367780248460986573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2010/04/new-posts.html' title='New Posts'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-3135220192352278932</id><published>2010-02-04T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T09:41:12.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cup of Tea</title><summary type='text'>One day my mother was out and my dad was in charge of me.I was maybe 2 1/2 years old. Someone had given me a little 'tea set' as a gift and it was one of my favorite toys.Daddy was in the living room engrossed in the evening news when I brought Daddy a little cup of 'tea', which was just water. After several cups of tea and lots of praise for such yummy tea, my Mom came home.My Dad made her wait </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.shopherbalife.com/catalog/catalog.jsp?dsext=herbal7&amp;cid=620972&amp;LocaleSelect=en_US&amp;_requestid=377387' title='Cup of Tea'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/3135220192352278932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/3135220192352278932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2010/02/cup-of-tea.html' title='Cup of Tea'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-6609782714489266855</id><published>2009-12-20T00:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T00:20:26.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bill and Sam</title><summary type='text'>Bill and Sam, two elderly friends, met in the park every day to feed the pigeons, watch the squirrels and discuss world problems.One day Bill didn't show up. Sam didn't think much about it and figured maybe he had a cold or something. But after Bill hadn't shown up for a week or so, Sam really got worried. However, since the only time they ever got together was at the park, Sam didn't know where </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.herbal7.com/herbal_usa/english/cell_u_loss.htm' title='Bill and Sam'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6609782714489266855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6609782714489266855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/12/bill-and-sam.html' title='Bill and Sam'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-5918214610029865955</id><published>2009-10-01T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T06:13:36.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding</title><summary type='text'>Attending a wedding for the first time, a little girl whispered to her mother,'Why is the bride dressed in white?''The mother replied,'Because white is the color of happiness, and today is the happiest day of her life.'The child thought about this for a moment then said,'So why is the groom wearing black?'Personal Care</summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Wedding'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/5918214610029865955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/5918214610029865955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/10/wedding.html' title='Wedding'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-8331722851365209945</id><published>2009-09-18T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T23:26:08.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baptism</title><summary type='text'>Johnny's Mother looked out the window and noticed him 'playing church' with their cat. He had the cat sitting quietly and he was preaching to it.  She smiled and went about her work.A while later she heard loud meowing and hissing and ran back to the open window to see Johnny baptizing the cat in a tub of water. She called out, 'Johnny, stop that! The cat is afraid of water!'Johnny looked up at </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Baptism'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8331722851365209945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8331722851365209945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/09/baptism.html' title='Baptism'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-7170187486533855870</id><published>2009-09-05T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T06:29:35.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DEA</title><summary type='text'>A DEA officer stops at a ranch in Montana, and talks with an old rancher. He tells the rancher, 'I need to inspect your ranch for illegally grown drugs.'The old rancher says, 'Okay, but do not go in that field over there' as he points out the location.The DEA officer verbally explodes saying, 'Mister, I have the authority of the Federal Government with me.' Reaching into his rear pants pocket, he</summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='DEA'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/7170187486533855870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/7170187486533855870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/09/dea.html' title='DEA'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-2568498937793350331</id><published>2009-08-08T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:30:56.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mafia Don...</title><summary type='text'>An old Italian Mafia Don is dying and he calls for his grandson to approach his bed. "Lissin a me, I wanna for you to take my chrome-plated .38 caliber revolver, so you willa always remembera me."The grandson smiles weakly and replies, "But, grandpa, I really don' alike-a guns, howzabout you leave-a me you ROLEX watch instead?"Gasping for air the old man answers with a snarl in his voice. "</summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Mafia Don...'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/2568498937793350331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/2568498937793350331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/08/mafia-don.html' title='Mafia Don...'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-8838942252300810966</id><published>2009-07-22T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T13:00:03.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bar Sues Church</title><summary type='text'>In a small Texas town, a new bar/tavern started building a new place to open up their business. The local Baptist church started a campaign of petitions and prayers to block the bar from opening.Work progressed, however right up till the week before opening, when a lightning strike hit the bar and it burned to the ground.The church folks were rather smug in their outlook after that, till the bar </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Bar Sues Church'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8838942252300810966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8838942252300810966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/07/bar-sues-church.html' title='Bar Sues Church'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-5667472174176619096</id><published>2009-07-14T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T21:24:19.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evolution</title><summary type='text'>A little girl asked her mother, 'How did the human race appear?'The mother answered, 'God made Adam and Eve and they had children and then all mankind was made.'Two days later the girl asked her father the same question.The father answered, 'Many years ago there were   monkeys from which the human race evolved.'The confused girl returned to her mother and said, 'Mom, how is it possible that you </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Evolution'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/5667472174176619096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/5667472174176619096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/07/evolution.html' title='Evolution'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-6340275810657611776</id><published>2009-06-11T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T18:13:20.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Golf Balls</title><summary type='text'>A man entered the bus with both of his front pockets full of golf balls and sat down next to a beautiful (you guessed it) blonde.The puzzled blonde kept looking at him and his bulging pockets. Finally, after many such glances from her, he said, 'It's golf balls.'Nevertheless, the blonde continued to look at him for a very long time, deeply thinking about what he had said.After several minutes, </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Golf Balls'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6340275810657611776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6340275810657611776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/06/golf-balls.html' title='Golf Balls'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-6342553997198120395</id><published>2009-05-09T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T10:22:18.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Salesman</title><summary type='text'>A young guy from Georgia moves to New York and goes to a big 'everything under one roof' department store looking for a job.The Manager says, 'Do you have any sales experience?' The kid says 'Yeah. I was a salesman back in Georgia’.Well, the boss liked the kid and gave him the job. 'You start tomorrow. I'll come down after we close and see how you did.'His first day on the job was rough, but he </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Salesman'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6342553997198120395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6342553997198120395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/05/salesman.html' title='Salesman'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-6016088956876650942</id><published>2009-04-10T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T15:05:00.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Engineer</title><summary type='text'>An engineer dies &amp; reports to hell. Pretty soon, the engineer becomes dissatisfied with the level of comfort in hell and starts designing &amp; building improvements. After a while, they've got air conditioning and flush toilets and escalators and the engineer is a pretty popular guy.One day God calls Satan up on the telephone and says with a sneer, 'So, how's it going down there in Hell?Satan </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Engineer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6016088956876650942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6016088956876650942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/04/engineer.html' title='Engineer'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-1536135556825242433</id><published>2009-03-13T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T07:52:06.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IRISH BLONDE IN A CASINO</title><summary type='text'>An attractive blonde from Cork arrived at the Casino and bet twenty-thousand Euros 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 the neck down, rolled the dice and yelled, 'Come on, baby, Mama needs some new clothes!'As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed... 'YES! YES! I WON, </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='IRISH BLONDE IN A CASINO'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/1536135556825242433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/1536135556825242433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/03/irish-blonde-in-casino.html' title='IRISH BLONDE IN A CASINO'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-8557710768058971210</id><published>2009-02-15T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T21:40:31.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Desserts"</title><summary type='text'>Alice was to bake a cake for the church ladies' group bake sale, but she forgot to do it until the last minute. She baked an angel food cake and when she took it from the oven, the center had dropped flat.She said, "Oh dear, there's no time to bake another cake." So, she looked around the house for something to build up the center of the cake.Alice found it in the bathroom, a roll of toilet paper</summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Just Desserts&quot;'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8557710768058971210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8557710768058971210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/02/just-desserts.html' title='Just Desserts&quot;'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-36780312543074725</id><published>2009-01-01T04:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T04:25:30.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old lady driving</title><summary type='text'>Sitting on the side of the highway waiting to catch speeding drivers, a State Police Officer sees a car puttering along at 22 MPH. He thinks to himself, This driver is just as dangerous as a speeder!" So he turns on his lights and pulls the driver over. Approaching the car, he notices that there are five old ladies -- two in the front seat and three in the back -- wide eyed and white as ghosts. </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Old lady driving'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/36780312543074725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/36780312543074725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2009/01/old-lady-driving.html' title='Old lady driving'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-6629225831103242262</id><published>2008-12-05T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T11:45:50.978-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning: Deer Tick Surveys</title><summary type='text'>Warning!!!!!!!!!!!I hate people who forward too many warnings as much as anyone, but this one is important! I hope I'm not  too late. Send this warning to everyone on your e-mail list.If someone comes to your front door saying they are conducting a survey on deer ticks and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around to shake off the ticks, do not do it! IT IS A SCAM; they only want to see </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6629225831103242262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/6629225831103242262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/12/warning-deer-tick-surveys.html' title='Warning: Deer Tick Surveys'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-4604770219602253206</id><published>2008-10-19T15:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T18:45:48.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God For Cell Phones!</title><summary type='text'>A husband and wife are on the 9 th green when suddenly she collapses with heart attack symptoms! "Help me dear," she groans to her husband.The husband calls 911 on his cell phone, talks for a few minutes, picks up his putter, and lines up his putt.His wife raises her head off the green and stares at him. "I'm dying over here and you're putting?""Don't worry dear," says the husband calmly, "they </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Thank God For Cell Phones!'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4604770219602253206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4604770219602253206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/10/thank-god-for-cell-phones.html' title='Thank God For Cell Phones!'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-4072785824828218504</id><published>2008-10-04T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T23:05:51.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Marriage</title><summary type='text'>Little Bruce and Jenny are only 10 years old, but they know they are in love. One day they decide that they want to get married, so Bruce goes to Jenny's father to ask him for her hand.Bruce bravely walks up to him and says, 'Mr. Smith, me and Jenny are in love and I want to ask you for her hand in marriage.'Thinking that this was just the cutest thing, Mr. Smith replies, 'Well Bruce, you are </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.klip7.cl/klip7i/online/crazy_jokes.htm' title='Early Marriage'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4072785824828218504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4072785824828218504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/10/early-marriage.html' title='Early Marriage'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-4503232537514504339</id><published>2008-08-26T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T02:33:03.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HOSPITAL PHONE CALL</title><summary type='text'>A woman called a local hospital . . ."Hello. Could you connect me to the person who gives information about patients. I'd like to find out if a patient is getting better, doing as expected, or getting worse."The voice on the other end said, "What is the patient's name and room number?""Sarah Finkel, room 302.""I'll connect you with the nursing station . . . ""3-A Nursing Station. How can I help </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.klip7.cl/klip7i/online/crazy_jokes.htm' title='HOSPITAL PHONE CALL'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4503232537514504339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4503232537514504339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/08/hospital-phone-call.html' title='HOSPITAL PHONE CALL'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-7719219383554635339</id><published>2008-07-29T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T20:27:03.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Health</title><summary type='text'> .After an exhaustive review of the research literature, here's the final word on nutrition and health: 1. Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than us. 2. Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than us. 3. Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than us. 4. Italians drink excessive amounts of red wine and suffer fewer heart </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.jokes7.info/' title='Health'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/7719219383554635339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/7719219383554635339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/07/health.html' title='Health'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-7774274191043929041</id><published>2008-06-22T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T15:41:23.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The lie detector</title><summary type='text'>The lie detectorJohn was a salesman's delight when it came to any kind of unusual gimmick. His wife Marsha had long ago given up trying to get him to change. One day John came home with another one of his unusual purchases. It was a robot that John claimed was actually a lie detector.It was about 5:30 that afternoon when Tommy, their 11 year old son, returned home from school. Tommy was over 2 </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.herbalinea.com/en/herbalife/enhancers/0111-cell-u-loss' title='The lie detector'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/7774274191043929041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/7774274191043929041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/06/lie-detector.html' title='The lie detector'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-8050835036002272626</id><published>2008-03-12T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T14:39:55.224-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='200803'/><title type='text'>THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!!!</title><summary type='text'>    An old, tired-looking dog wandered into the yard. I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home.     He followed me into the house, down the hall, and fell asleep in a corner.     An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out.     The next day he was back, resumed his position in the hall, and slept for an hour. This continued for several weeks. Curious, I pinned </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.klip7.cl/bloggers/recipes/' title='THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!!!'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8050835036002272626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/8050835036002272626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/03/this-is-so-cute.html' title='THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!!!'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-5547888671496308725</id><published>2008-02-04T04:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T04:32:46.241-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='200802'/><title type='text'>Dog Food</title><summary type='text'>Dog Food        I was in Target buying a large bag of Purina for my dog. A woman behind me in the checkout line asked if I had a dog.     I was feeling a bit crabby and sarcastic so, on impulse, I told her no, I was starting The Purina Diet again, although I probably shouldn't because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I had awakened in an intensive care </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.klip7.cl/klip7i/online/ssv.htm' title='Dog Food'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/5547888671496308725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/5547888671496308725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/02/dog-food.html' title='Dog Food'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-3752869439595836590</id><published>2008-01-03T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T09:11:54.177-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='200812'/><title type='text'>Women are clever</title><summary type='text'>     A Portagee woman was out golfing one day when she hit the 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 three 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. Whatever you wish for, your </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.natural7.com.do/' title='Women are clever'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/3752869439595836590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/3752869439595836590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2008/01/women-are-clever.html' title='Women are clever'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15179566.post-4133698009902962003</id><published>2007-12-15T14:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T14:31:19.493-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='200712'/><title type='text'>Old Classmates...</title><summary type='text'>   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!     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 40-ODD </summary><link rel='related' href='http://www.vida7.cl/' title='Old Classmates...'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4133698009902962003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15179566/posts/default/4133698009902962003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jokes7.info/2007/12/old-classmates.html' title='Old Classmates...'/><author><name>Klip7</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17776018317348921748'/></author></entry></feed>
