<?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-8639258271054499099</id><updated>2011-11-28T07:58:01.320+08:00</updated><category term='Husband'/><category term='Army'/><category term='Marriage'/><category term='Rednecks'/><category term='Girlfriend'/><category term='Funny Signs'/><category term='Doctor'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Teacher'/><category term='Philosophy'/><category term='Judge'/><category term='Women'/><category term='Salesman'/><category term='Reflections'/><category term='Accountant'/><category term='Friend'/><category term='Knock Knock'/><category term='Politicians'/><category term='Fights'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Questions'/><category term='Adult'/><category term='Pharmacist'/><category term='Young'/><category term='Work'/><category term='Mother'/><category term='British'/><category term='Religion'/><category term='Viagra'/><category term='School'/><category term='Dentist'/><category term='Age'/><category term='Signs'/><category term='Wife'/><category term='Quotes'/><category term='Drunk'/><category term='Points To Ponder'/><category term='Office'/><category term='Lawyer'/><category term='Others'/><category term='Golf'/><category term='Teenagers'/><category term='Short Jokes'/><category term='Business'/><category term='Idiot'/><category term='Economy'/><category term='Computers'/><category term='Children'/><category term='Animal'/><category term='Blonde'/><category term='Farmer'/><category term='Men And Women'/><category term='Mother-In-Law'/><category term='Pun'/><category term='Movies'/><category term='Sports'/><category term='Funny Pictures'/><title type='text'>Jokes To Make You Laugh</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>631</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5683866964714557963</id><published>2011-11-20T19:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T20:01:33.504+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>A Test For Monks</title><content type='html'>The head of the monastery wanted to check how strong his priests are in resisting temptation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called three of them to his room, and ordered them to put a small bell on their penis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, he went to the first guy, and showed him a picture of a gorgeous naked girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gling Gling", went the bell, and the head of the monastery was furious: "You call yourself a monk? you are as weak as a baby!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went then to the second guy, and showed him a cover of a dirty porn movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gling Gling", went the bell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you are a disgrace! get out of my sight!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost in complete dispair, he went to the third guy and showed him a cover of a porn magazine. There was silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Way to go, son, you are the only man here worth to be call a monk", the head of the monastery said, while putting his hand on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gling Gling", went the bell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5683866964714557963?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5683866964714557963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5683866964714557963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5683866964714557963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5683866964714557963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/11/test-for-monks.html' title='A Test For Monks'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4787973061838527156</id><published>2011-11-20T11:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T11:43:27.462+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>Doctor's Advice</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Brenda and Steve took their six-year-old son to the doctor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With some hesitation, they explained that although their little angel appeared to be in good health, they were concerned about his rather small penis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After examining the child, the doctor confidently declared, "Just feed him pancakes. That should solve the problem."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next morning when the boy arrived at breakfast, there was a huge stack of warm pancakes in the middle of the table.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Gee, Mom," he exclaimed. "All those for me?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Just take two," Brenda replied. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The rest are for your father."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4787973061838527156?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4787973061838527156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4787973061838527156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4787973061838527156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4787973061838527156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/11/doctors-advice.html' title='Doctor&apos;s Advice'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4821856050400218738</id><published>2011-11-15T22:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T22:05:57.612+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Age'/><title type='text'>Old Girlfriend</title><content type='html'>A 92-year-old man moved into a retirement home where he immediately met a 90 year old woman. They hit it off right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few weeks of spending time together, the man said, “You know, we’re past our sexual years, so I wonder if it would be okay for you to just hold my penis in your hand.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman seemed surprised, but said, “Well, I guess it wouldn’t do any harm to just hold it.” So, for the next few weeks, they could always be found on a park bench near a lake, the lady holding the man’s penis in her hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the old man didn’t show up. Beginning to worry, the lady set out in search of him. A few blocks away, sitting on another park bench was the old man…with another woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first old lady approached the couple and saw the other woman holding the man’s penis in her hand. She became very upset and yelled to the man, “I thought we had something special. Now, I find you with another woman, and she’s holding your penis in her hand. What does she have that I don’t have???”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man looked up, smiled, and said…“Parkinson’s.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4821856050400218738?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4821856050400218738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4821856050400218738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4821856050400218738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4821856050400218738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/11/old-girlfriend.html' title='Old Girlfriend'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-1028547195152000274</id><published>2011-11-13T11:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T11:42:48.362+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><title type='text'>An Important Phone Call</title><content type='html'>A young lawyer, in the process of opening a new private practice, was very anxious to impress potential clients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon seeing a man enter the lobby of his office, he immediately picked up his phone and spoke into it, “Eight hundred thousand dollars? You’re kidding me. You’re going to have to do better than that. Our bottom line for settlement is a million. Don’t waste my time with anything less.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slamming down the phone, he then turned to the man who had just walked in, and said, “Now, what can I do for you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nothing,” replied the man. “I’m here to hook up your phone.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-1028547195152000274?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1028547195152000274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=1028547195152000274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1028547195152000274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1028547195152000274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/11/important-phone-call.html' title='An Important Phone Call'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-445115296701380718</id><published>2011-11-12T23:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T23:37:30.547+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband'/><title type='text'>Pregnant At The Doctor</title><content type='html'>Brenda, pregnant with her first child, was paying a visit to her obstetrician's office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the exam was over, she shyly began, "My husband wants me to ask you..."&lt;br /&gt;"I know, I know." the doctor said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I get asked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that all the time. Sex is fine until late In the pregnancy."&lt;br /&gt;"No, that's not it at all," Brenda confessed. "He wants to know if I can still mow the lawn."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-445115296701380718?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/445115296701380718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=445115296701380718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/445115296701380718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/445115296701380718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/11/pregnat-at-doctor.html' title='Pregnant At The Doctor'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8797239741075496640</id><published>2011-10-27T22:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T22:08:32.535+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men And Women'/><title type='text'>Choosing A Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A man wanted to get married, but he was having trouble choosing among three likely candidates. He decides to give each woman a present of $5,000, then waits to see what each one does with the money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first woman does a total makeover. She goes to a fancy beauty salon gets here done, new makeup and buys several new outfits and dresses up very nicely for the man. She tells him that she as done this to be more attractive for him because she loves him so much. The man was impressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second woman goes shopping to buy the man gifts. She gets him a new set of golf clubs, some new gizmos for his computer and some expensive clothes. As she presents these gifts, she tells him that she has spent all the money on him because she loves him so much. Again, the man is impressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The third woman invests the money in the stock market. She earns several times the $5,000. She gives him back his $5,000 and reinvests the remainder in a joint account. She tells him that she wants to save for their future because she loves him so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Obviously, the man was impressed. He thought for a long time about what each woman had done with the money he'd given her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, he married the one with the biggest boobs. Men are like that, you know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8797239741075496640?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8797239741075496640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8797239741075496640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8797239741075496640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8797239741075496640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/choosing-wife.html' title='Choosing A Wife'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-6160740554952762248</id><published>2011-10-26T14:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T14:45:09.767+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men And Women'/><title type='text'>The Funiture Business</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A furniture dealer from Knoxville, Tennessee, decided that he wanted to expand the line of furniture in his store, so he decided to go to Paris, France to see what he could find. After arriving in Paris (this being his first trip to the French capitol), he met with some manufacturers and finally selected a line that he thought would sell well back home in Tennessee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To celebrate the new acquisition, he decided to visit a small bistro and have a glass of wine. As he sat enjoying his wine, he noticed that the small place was quite crowded, and that the one other chair at his table was the only vacant seat in the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before long, a very beautiful young Parisian woman came to his table, asked him something in French (which he did not understand), and motioned toward the chair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He invited her to sit down. He tried to speak to her in English, but she did not speak his language so, after a couple of minutes of trying to communicate with her, he took a napkin and drew a picture of a wine glass and showed it her. She nodded, and he ordered a glass of wine for her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After sitting together at the table for a while, he took another napkin, and drew a picture of a plate with food on it, and she nodded. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They left the bistro and found a quiet cafe that featured a small group playing romantic music. They ordered dinner, after which he took another napkin and drew a picture of a couple dancing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She nodded, and they got up to dance. They danced until the cafe closed and the band was packing up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back at their table, the young lady took a napkin and drew a picture of a four-poster bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To this day, he has no idea how she figured out he was in the furniture business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-6160740554952762248?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6160740554952762248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=6160740554952762248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6160740554952762248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6160740554952762248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/funiture-business.html' title='The Funiture Business'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-858072254114216653</id><published>2011-10-25T19:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T19:31:23.280+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Settle Out Of Court</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A gay couple is driving along one afternoon, and while stopped at&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a stop sign, they are rear ended (no pun intended) by a big semi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Furious, the guy in the passenger side throws his purse on the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;seat, gets out of the car, goes back to the truck and starts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;banging on the door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The truck driver opens the door and the gay guy, standing there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with his hands on his hips, says, "I'm gonna sue your ass, Buddy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The truck driver just laughs and says, "Blow me!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The gay guy runs back to the car and says excitedly to his lover,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You won't believe this, he wants to settle out of court!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-858072254114216653?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/858072254114216653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=858072254114216653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/858072254114216653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/858072254114216653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/settle-out-of-court.html' title='Settle Out Of Court'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4152515548842032644</id><published>2011-10-24T08:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T08:07:18.413+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men And Women'/><title type='text'>Size Matters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A newlywed couple is getting ready for bed when the husband says,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Honey, now that we're married, it's okay for me to see your&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;body. Would you open your robe so I can have a look?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She opens her robe and lets her husband see her naked body.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And he says, "You are so so so beautiful. Can I get the camera&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and take a picture?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Why do you want to do that?" she asks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Because I love you so so so much, and I'd like to keep your&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;picture next to my heart forever!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She allows him to get the camera and take the picture. Then she&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;says, "Honey, now that we're married, it's okay for me to see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;your body too. Would you open your robe so I can have a look?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He opens his robe and lets his wife see his naked body.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And she asks, "Can I get the camera and take a picture?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Why do you want to do that?" he asks her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Because I want to get it enlarged!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4152515548842032644?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4152515548842032644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4152515548842032644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4152515548842032644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4152515548842032644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/size-matters.html' title='Size Matters'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-6505194433897257026</id><published>2011-10-23T18:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T18:37:18.332+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wife'/><title type='text'>Sleeping With The Best Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A man was feeling very depressed. He walked into a bar and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ordered a triple scotch whiskey. As the bartender poured him the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;drink he remarked, "That's quite a heavy drink. What's wrong?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After quickly downing his drink, the man replied, "I got home and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;found my wife having sex with my best friend."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Wow" exclaimed the bartender, as he poured the man a second&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;triple scotch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"No wonder you needed a stiff drink. The second triple is on the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;house."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the man downed his second triple scotch, the bartender asked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;him "What did you do?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I walked over to my wife," the man replied, "looked her straight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in the eye and told her that we were through and to pack her&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;stuff and to get the hell out."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"That makes sense," said the bartender, "but what about your&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;friend?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The man replied, "I walked over to him, looked him right in the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eye and said, 'BAD DOG! BAAAD DOG!'"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-6505194433897257026?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6505194433897257026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=6505194433897257026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6505194433897257026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6505194433897257026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/sleeping-with-best-friend.html' title='Sleeping With The Best Friend'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-1849145307468759782</id><published>2011-10-23T13:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T13:04:00.149+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>She Was Soooooo Blonde...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;When she heard that 90% of all crimes occur around the home, she moved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She thought if she spoke her mind, she'd be speechless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She thought that she could not use her AM radio in the evening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She had a shirt that said "TGIF," which she thought stood for "This Goes In Front."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She thinks Taco Bell is the Mexican phone company.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-1849145307468759782?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1849145307468759782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=1849145307468759782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1849145307468759782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1849145307468759782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/she-was-soooooo-blonde.html' title='She Was Soooooo Blonde...'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8956149278427163572</id><published>2011-10-17T16:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T16:59:14.940+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>I'm Just Here For ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Barry was hired to play trumpet on a movie score and was thrilled when he got to take two long solos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the sessions, he couldn't wait to see the finished product. He waited a month and then asked the producer when and where it was going to play. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The embarrassed producer explained that the music was for a porno movie and it was out now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Barry put on a hat and sunglasses, pulled up his collar, and sneaked into the porno theater. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He sat far in the back, near an elderly couple who were also hiding. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The movie was the filthiest, most perverse flick he'd ever seen.... halfway through a dog even got in on the action.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Embarrassed, Barry whispered to the old couple, "I'm only here for the music." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The woman looked back and whispered, "It's okay. We're just here to see our dog!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8956149278427163572?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8956149278427163572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8956149278427163572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8956149278427163572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8956149278427163572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-just-here-for.html' title='I&apos;m Just Here For ...'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8864903775796738206</id><published>2011-10-17T08:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T08:24:51.571+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Others'/><title type='text'>Egg And Boiling Water</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;What did the egg say to the boiling water?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I just got laid and now you want me to get hard?!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8864903775796738206?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8864903775796738206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8864903775796738206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8864903775796738206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8864903775796738206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/egg-and-boiling-water.html' title='Egg And Boiling Water'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-1549484549466060896</id><published>2011-10-14T21:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T21:11:31.878+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Alcohol Is Bad For Legs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A man approached a lovely young lady at the bar, "May I buy you a cocktail?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She answered, "No, thank you. Alcohol is bad for my legs."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He replied, "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Do they swell?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She said, "No, they open!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-1549484549466060896?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1549484549466060896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=1549484549466060896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1549484549466060896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1549484549466060896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/alcohol-is-bad-for-legs.html' title='Alcohol Is Bad For Legs'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8841292320709373308</id><published>2011-10-12T13:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T14:01:04.087+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband'/><title type='text'>Speaking Of Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A man, sitting at home with his wife, said, completely out of the blue, "I love you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She asked, "Is that you or the beer talking?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He replied, "It's me, talking to the beer!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8841292320709373308?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8841292320709373308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8841292320709373308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8841292320709373308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8841292320709373308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/speaking-of-love.html' title='Speaking Of Love'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5526334948773649273</id><published>2011-10-12T08:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T08:55:14.471+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Age'/><title type='text'>Heart Of A 15 Year Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Mr. Steinberg's physician finished his examination and said, "Sol, I'm happy to say that you're completely healthy, with the heart function of a fifteen-year-old." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mr. Steinberg went home and told his wife, "Doris, the doctor says my heart is in great shape. Tonight, we're going to have wild, passionate sex!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doris said, "Are you sure, Sol? At your age? I'd never forgive myself if you died while we're doing it. But if your doctor wrote a note verifying that everything is okay, well, then... maybe." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mr. Steinberg was dejected and the next day he was back in his doctor's office. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;His doctor told him, "Sure, Sol, no problem, I'll write you a note. Let's see, 'My patient, Sol Steinberg, has the heart function of a fifteen-year-old and can have wild, passionate sex any time he so desires. Signed, Dr. Aaron Katz.' Now, how do you want it addressed? What's your wife's name?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Uh ... Doc, just make it, 'To Whom It May Concern'."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5526334948773649273?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5526334948773649273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5526334948773649273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5526334948773649273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5526334948773649273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/10/heart-of-15-year-old.html' title='Heart Of A 15 Year Old'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-124304218758980246</id><published>2011-04-24T18:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T18:34:21.697+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>The Secret To A Long Marriage</title><content type='html'>An elderly couple was sitting on their front porch one day when the husband said: "Whenever I get at mad at you, you never seem to get  upset. How do you manage to control your temper?"&lt;br /&gt;"I just go and clean the toilet," his wife replied.&lt;br /&gt;"How does that help?" asked her husband.&lt;br /&gt;"I use your toothbrush."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-124304218758980246?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/124304218758980246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=124304218758980246' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/124304218758980246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/124304218758980246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/04/secret-to-long-marriage.html' title='The Secret To A Long Marriage'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8839291423120913908</id><published>2011-04-23T18:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T18:58:37.708+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Her Sexual Problem</title><content type='html'>A woman went to her psychiatrist because she was having severe problems with her sex life.&lt;br /&gt;The psychiatrist asked her many questions but did not seem to be getting a clear picture of her problems. Finally he asked, "Do you ever watch your husband's face while you are having sex?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yes, I did once," the woman replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, how did he look?" coaxed the psychiatrist.&lt;br /&gt;"Very angry," she answered.&lt;br /&gt;At this point the psychiatrist felt that he was really getting somewhere and he said, "Well, that's very interesting, we must look into this further. Now, you say that you have only seen your husband's face once during sex; that seems somewhat unusual. Tell me, how did it occur that you saw his face that time?" "He was outside, looking through the window at us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8839291423120913908?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8839291423120913908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8839291423120913908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8839291423120913908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8839291423120913908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/04/her-sexual-problem.html' title='Her Sexual Problem'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3210016178158472519</id><published>2011-04-19T18:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T19:00:39.475+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Missing Wash Cloth</title><content type='html'>There was a little boy whose mother was about to have a baby. One day, the little boy walked in and saw his mother naked. He asked his mother what the hair between her legs was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She responded, “It’s my wash cloth.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weeks later, after the mother had her baby, the young boy walked in on his mother again. While she was in the hospital, the doctor had shaved her pubic hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy asked, “What happened to your wash cloth?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother responded, “I lost it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy, trying to be helpful, set out to find his mother’s washcloth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later, he ran to his mother yelling and screaming, “I found your washcloth.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother, thinking that the child was just playing, went along with the boy and asked, “Where did you find it?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy answered, “The maid has it! She is washing daddy’s face with it.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3210016178158472519?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3210016178158472519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3210016178158472519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3210016178158472519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3210016178158472519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/04/missing-wash-cloth.html' title='Missing Wash Cloth'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2906172113372645416</id><published>2011-04-02T18:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-02T18:59:40.927+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Idiot'/><title type='text'>The Catalogue</title><content type='html'>Two Irish men were looking at a mail order catalogue and admiring the models.&lt;br /&gt;Paddy says to Mick, "Have you seen the beautiful girls in this catalogue?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," Mick replies, "they are very beautiful. And look at the price!"&lt;br /&gt;Paddy says with wide eyes, "Wow! They aren't very expensive! At this price, I'm buying one."&lt;br /&gt;Mike smiles and pats him on the back.&lt;br /&gt;"Good idea! Order one and if she's as beautiful as she is in the catalogue, I'll get one, too."&lt;br /&gt;Three weeks later, Mick asks Paddy, " Did you ever receive the girl you ordered from the catalogue?"&lt;br /&gt;"Not yet," says Paddy, "but it shouldn't be long now. She sent all her clothes yesterday."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2906172113372645416?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2906172113372645416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2906172113372645416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2906172113372645416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2906172113372645416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/04/catalogue.html' title='The Catalogue'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-446163113772557253</id><published>2011-03-28T07:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T07:44:20.666+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor'/><title type='text'>Singing In The Shower</title><content type='html'>A sex therapist was having lunch with Mick.&lt;br /&gt;"I just read a survey that said 90% of adults masturbate in the shower; the other 10% sing," said the therapist.&lt;br /&gt;"Really?" asked Mick.&lt;br /&gt;The therapist nodded and asked, "Do you know what song they sing?"&lt;br /&gt;Mick shook his head, "No."&lt;br /&gt;"I thought you wouldn't!" said the therapist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-446163113772557253?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/446163113772557253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=446163113772557253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/446163113772557253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/446163113772557253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/03/singing-in-shower.html' title='Singing In The Shower'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4417113719982695174</id><published>2011-03-18T21:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T21:09:33.206+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Idiot'/><title type='text'>Real Men Eat Quickies</title><content type='html'>A man is seated in a restaurant where all the waitresses are gorgeous. A particularly voluptuous waitress wearing a very short skirt, and with legs that won't quit, comes to his table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What would you like, sir?" she asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks at the menu and then scans her beautiful frame, top to bottom, and says, "A quickie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She walks away in disgust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After regaining her composure, she returns. "What would you like, sir?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again the man thoroughly checks her out. "A quickie, please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her anger takes over. She slaps him across the face with a resounding "SMACK" and storms away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, a man sitting at the next table leans over and says, "Um, I think it's pronounced 'quiche'."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4417113719982695174?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4417113719982695174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4417113719982695174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4417113719982695174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4417113719982695174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/03/real-men-eat-quickies.html' title='Real Men Eat Quickies'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7968017803909399448</id><published>2011-03-17T23:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T23:18:53.845+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men And Women'/><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>"What? You say you love her, and yet, when you saw her with another man, you did nothing?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm waiting," said Paddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Waiting for what, Paddy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Waiting to catch her with a smaller guy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7968017803909399448?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7968017803909399448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7968017803909399448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7968017803909399448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7968017803909399448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/03/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5724131255151947672</id><published>2011-03-16T20:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T20:10:20.806+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>How did the human race come about?</title><content type='html'>A little girl asked her father, “How did the human race come about?” The father answered: “God made Adam and Eve and they had children and so all mankind was made.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later she asks her mother the same question. The mother answered: “Many years ago there were monkeys, and we developed from them.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The confused girl returns to her father and says:”Dad, how is it possible that you told me that the human race was created by God and Mama says we developed from monkeys?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father answers: “Well dear, it is very simple. I told you about the origin of my side of the family, and your mother told you about hers.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5724131255151947672?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5724131255151947672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5724131255151947672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5724131255151947672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5724131255151947672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/03/how-did-human-race-come-about.html' title='How did the human race come about?'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2799594519471583959</id><published>2011-03-13T22:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T22:38:39.752+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men And Women'/><title type='text'>After a long night of making love..</title><content type='html'>After a long night of making love the young guy rolled over, was looking around when he noticed a framed picture of another man on a desk in the distance.&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/8639258271054499099-2799594519471583959?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2799594519471583959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2799594519471583959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2799594519471583959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2799594519471583959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/03/after-long-night-of-making-love.html' title='After a long night of making love..'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8942651780389373571</id><published>2011-03-09T22:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T22:04:36.443+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflections'/><title type='text'>Asian Predicament</title><content type='html'>A Cambodian, a Japanese, a Korean, a Chinese, a Burmese, a Philippine, a Vietnamese, a Malaysian, and an Indonesian walked into a bar; but the bartender stopped them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry," he told them, "but I can't let you in without a Thai!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8942651780389373571?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8942651780389373571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8942651780389373571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8942651780389373571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8942651780389373571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/03/asian-predicament.html' title='Asian Predicament'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5231563425531552122</id><published>2011-03-08T19:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T19:16:09.349+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Sex After Surgery?</title><content type='html'>A surgeon went to check on his patient, an attractive blonde, after an operation. She was awake, so he examined her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll be fine," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How long will it be before I can have a normal sex life again, doctor?", she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surgeon seemed to pause, which alarmed the young woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the matter, doctor?" she asked. "I will be alright?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," replied the doctor, "you'll be fine. It's just that no one has ever asked me that after having their tonsils removed."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5231563425531552122?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5231563425531552122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5231563425531552122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5231563425531552122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5231563425531552122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2011/03/sex-after-surgery.html' title='Sex After Surgery?'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-6928711571725978487</id><published>2010-10-17T13:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T13:14:10.606+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Accountant'/><title type='text'>Marry an Accountant</title><content type='html'>A patient was at her doctor's office after undergoing a complete physical exam. The doctor said, "I have some very grave news for you. You only have six months to live."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patient asked, "Oh doctor, what should I do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor replied, "Marry an accountant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will that make me live longer?" asked the patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the doctor, "but it will SEEM longer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-6928711571725978487?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6928711571725978487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=6928711571725978487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6928711571725978487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6928711571725978487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/10/marry-accountant.html' title='Marry an Accountant'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7429975621211999222</id><published>2010-10-14T19:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T19:27:22.614+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>New Teacher</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A new teacher thought she would use what she learned in her psychology courses. She said to her class, “Everyone who thinks they are stupid, please stand up.”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;After a few seconds, one boy stood. “Do you think you’re stupid?” she asked.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“No, ma’am, but I just didn’t want you to have to stand there all by yourself.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7429975621211999222?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7429975621211999222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7429975621211999222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7429975621211999222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7429975621211999222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-teacher.html' title='New Teacher'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8538866302677221988</id><published>2010-10-11T22:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T22:09:52.907+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>The Code Of Silence</title><content type='html'>Sister Mary Katherine decided to   enter a convent with a code of silence.&lt;br /&gt;When she arrived, the Mother Superior explained to her, "Sister, this is a silent convent. You are welcome here as long as you like, but you may not speak until directed to do so."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister Mary Katherine lived in the monastery for 5 years before the Mother Superior said to her, "Sister Mary Katherine, you have been here for 5 years. You may speak two words."&lt;br /&gt;                    Sister Mary Katherine said, "Hard bed."&lt;br /&gt;                    "I'm sorry to hear that," said the Mother Superior, "We will get you a better   bed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After another 5 years, Sister Mary Katherine was again summoned by the Mother Superior. "You may say another two words, Sister Mary Katherine."&lt;br /&gt;"Cold food," said Sister Mary Katherine, and the Mother Superior assured her that the food would be better in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On her 15th anniversary at the monastery, the Mother Superior again called Sister Mary Katherine into her  office. "You may say two words today."&lt;br /&gt;                    "I quit," said   Sister Mary Katherine.&lt;br /&gt;                  "It's probably best," said the Mother Superior.   "You've done nothing but bitch since you got here."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8538866302677221988?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8538866302677221988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8538866302677221988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8538866302677221988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8538866302677221988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/10/code-of-silence.html' title='The Code Of Silence'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5220787932643319549</id><published>2010-10-10T17:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T17:17:45.609+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teenagers'/><title type='text'>Entitled To One Phone Call</title><content type='html'>Two teenagers were arrested for public lewdness and possession of marijuana when they were found naked,  enjoying a joint on the edge of the fountain in the town square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The arresting officer, unable to reach either parent, gave them one phone call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A half hour later, a man entered the station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sergeant said, "I suppose you're the kids' lawyer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope," the chap replied. "I'm just delivering their pizza!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5220787932643319549?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5220787932643319549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5220787932643319549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5220787932643319549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5220787932643319549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/10/entitled-to-one-phone-call.html' title='Entitled To One Phone Call'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-369384277689117333</id><published>2010-06-12T07:29:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T07:29:47.098+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Jesus Was Jewish</title><content type='html'>Q: How did they know that Jesus was Jewish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Because he lived at home until he was thirty, he went into his father's business, his mother thought he was God, and he thought his mother was a virgin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-369384277689117333?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/369384277689117333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=369384277689117333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/369384277689117333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/369384277689117333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/06/jesus-was-jewish.html' title='Jesus Was Jewish'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-6847982693182035873</id><published>2010-06-02T22:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T22:30:11.451+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor'/><title type='text'>Revenge Is Sweet</title><content type='html'>An older gentleman had an appointment to see the urologist who shared offices with several other doctors. The waiting room was filled with patients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he approached the receptionist's desk, he noticed that the receptionist was a large unfriendly woman who looked like a Sumo wrestler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave her his name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a very loud voice, the receptionist said,&lt;br /&gt;"YES, I HAVE YOUR NAME HERE; YOU WANT TO SEE THE DOCTOR ABOUT IMPOTENCE, RIGHT?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the patients in the waiting room snapped their heads around to look at the very embarrassed man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He recovered quickly, and in an equally loud voice replied, "NO, I'VE COME TO INQUIRE ABOUT A SEX CHANGE OPERATION, BUT I DON'T WANT THE SAME DOCTOR THAT DID YOURS."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiting room erupted in applause!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-6847982693182035873?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6847982693182035873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=6847982693182035873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6847982693182035873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6847982693182035873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/06/revenge-is-sweet.html' title='Revenge Is Sweet'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7929779190838497374</id><published>2010-04-03T22:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T22:28:41.629+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>What The Bible Stands For</title><content type='html'>A father was approached by his small son who told him proudly, "I know what the Bible means!" His father smiled and replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean, you 'know' what the Bible means?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son replied, "I do know!" "Okay," said his father. "What does the Bible mean?" "That's easy, Daddy..." the young boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;replied excitedly, "It stands for 'Basic Information Before Leaving Earth.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7929779190838497374?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7929779190838497374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7929779190838497374' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7929779190838497374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7929779190838497374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-bible-stands-for.html' title='What The Bible Stands For'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2708882340318673429</id><published>2010-04-03T22:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T22:27:21.129+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Two Kinds Of People</title><content type='html'>"Somebody has said there are only two kinds of people in the world. There are those who wake up in the morning and say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning, Lord," and there are those who wake up in the morning and say, "Good Lord, it's morning."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2708882340318673429?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2708882340318673429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2708882340318673429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2708882340318673429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2708882340318673429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/04/two-kinds-of-people.html' title='Two Kinds Of People'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3174201743194114650</id><published>2010-03-07T19:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T19:08:47.576+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Airport Customs</title><content type='html'>A distinguished young woman on flight from Switzerland asked the priest sitting beside her, "Father, may I ask a favor?"&lt;br /&gt;"Of course. What may I do for you?" the priest replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I bought an expensive electronic hair dryer that is well over the customs limits and I'm afraid they'll confiscate it. Is there anyway you could carry it through Customs for me? Under your robes perhaps?" the woman asked.&lt;br /&gt;"I would love to help you, but I must warn you: I will not lie!" The priest told her.&lt;br /&gt;"With your honest face, Father, no one will question you," she said.&lt;br /&gt;When they got to Customs, the young woman let the priest go ahead of her.&lt;br /&gt;The Customs official asked, "Father, do you have anything to declare?"&lt;br /&gt;"From the top of my head down to my waist, I have nothing to declare," said the priest.&lt;br /&gt;The officials thought this answer a bit strange, so he asked, "And what to you have to declare from your waist to the floor, Father?"&lt;br /&gt;"I have a marvelous little instrument designed to be used on a woman, but which is, to date, unused," answered the priest.&lt;br /&gt;Roaring with laughter, the official said, "Go ahead, Father. Next!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3174201743194114650?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3174201743194114650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3174201743194114650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3174201743194114650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3174201743194114650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2010/03/airport-customs.html' title='Airport Customs'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7334883663275665995</id><published>2009-12-28T18:49:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T18:49:31.552+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>The Missionary</title><content type='html'>A missionary who had spent years showing a tribe of natives how to farm and build things to be self-sufficient gets word that he is to return home. He realizes that the one thing he never taught the natives was how to speak English, so he takes the chief and starts walking in the forest.&lt;br /&gt;He points to a tree and says to the chief, "This is a tree."&lt;br /&gt;The chief looks at the tree and grunts, "Tree."&lt;br /&gt;The missionary is pleased with the response. They walk a little farther and the padre points to a rock and says, "This is a rock."&lt;br /&gt;Hearing this, the chief looks and grunts, "Rock."&lt;br /&gt;The padre is really getting enthusiastic about the results when he hears a rustling in the bushes. As he peeks over the top, he sees a couple in the midst of heavy sexual activity. The padre is really flustered and quickly responds, "Riding a bike."&lt;br /&gt;The chief looks at the couple briefly, pulls out his blow gun and kills them.&lt;br /&gt;The padre goes ballistic and yells at the chief that he has spent years teaching the tribe how to be civilized and kind to each other, so how could he just kill these people in cold blood that way?&lt;br /&gt;The chief stoically replied, "My bike."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7334883663275665995?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7334883663275665995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7334883663275665995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7334883663275665995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7334883663275665995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/12/missionary.html' title='The Missionary'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5615544916695158536</id><published>2009-12-28T08:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T08:07:17.039+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>The Pickle Packer</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 confessed to his wife that he had terrible compulsion. He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer.&lt;br /&gt;His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill said he would be too&lt;br /&gt;embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.&lt;br /&gt;One day a few weeks later, Bill came home. His wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong. "What's wrong, Bill?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Bill, you didn't."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I did."&lt;br /&gt;"My God, Bill, what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;"I got fired."&lt;br /&gt;"No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?"&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/8639258271054499099-5615544916695158536?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5615544916695158536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5615544916695158536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5615544916695158536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5615544916695158536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/12/pickle-packer.html' title='The Pickle Packer'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2316636389793774933</id><published>2009-12-06T15:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T15:33:20.860+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>I Know What You Did</title><content type='html'>To stop her 4-year old daughter from biting her nails, her mother tells her it'll make her fat. “I won't do it any more, Mom," says the daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day they are out walking when they meet a very fat man. “If I bite my fingernails, I'll be as fat as that, won't I Mom?" “You'll be fatter than that," says her mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They get on a bus, and sitting opposite them is a very pregnant lady. The little girl can't take her eyes off the woman's belly. The pregnant lady feels increasingly uncomfortable under this stare, and finally leans forward and says to the little girl, “Excuse me, but do you know me?" And the little girl says, “No, but I know what you've been doing..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2316636389793774933?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2316636389793774933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2316636389793774933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2316636389793774933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2316636389793774933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-know-what-you-did.html' title='I Know What You Did'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-634593740228382940</id><published>2009-12-03T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T22:38:06.313+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor'/><title type='text'>A Hot Day</title><content type='html'>It was a stifling hot day and a man fainted in the middle of a busy intersection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic quickly piled up in all directions, so a woman rushed to help him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she knelt down to loosen his collar, a man emerged from the crowd, pushed her aside, and said, "It's all right honey, I've had a course in first aid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman stood up and watched as he took the ill man's pulse and prepared to administer artificial respiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point she tapped him on the shoulder and said, "When you get to the part about calling a doctor,I'm already here."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-634593740228382940?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/634593740228382940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=634593740228382940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/634593740228382940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/634593740228382940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/12/hot-day.html' title='A Hot Day'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5242527409214140472</id><published>2009-12-02T21:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T21:32:22.470+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Saving Up for 60 Years</title><content type='html'>The 70-year old groom and the 25-year old bride attracted raised eyebrow attention as they checked into the resort hotel. Next morning at eight sharp, the groom came into the dining room whistling a gay tune, sat down at a table and ordered ham and eggs. The smile on his face and the twinkle in his eye told everybody present that he was happy and confident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen minutes later the young bride slowly trudged into the dining room and seated herself across from her 70-year old. Her face was drawn and her voice weak as she ordered toast and coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groom, now finished, excused himself and strolled into the lobby for his morning cigar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the waitress approached with the bride's toast and coffee, she said, "Honey, I don't understand it. Here you are a young bride with an old husband, looking like you've encountered a buzz saw."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That guy," said the bride, "double crossed me. He told me he saved up for 60 years and I thought he was talking about money!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5242527409214140472?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5242527409214140472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5242527409214140472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5242527409214140472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5242527409214140472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/12/saving-up-for-60-years.html' title='Saving Up for 60 Years'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8076672759550411765</id><published>2009-11-30T22:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T22:35:36.618+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Age'/><title type='text'>Church Bells</title><content type='html'>On hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Katie went straight to her grandparent's house to visit her 95 year old grandmother and comfort her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, "He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horrified, Katie told her grandmother that 2 people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no, my dear, " replied granny. "Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the Ding and out on the Dong."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She paused, wiped away a tear and then continued, "And if that damned ice cream truck hadn't come along, he'd still be alive today!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8076672759550411765?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8076672759550411765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8076672759550411765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8076672759550411765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8076672759550411765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/church-bells.html' title='Church Bells'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8198413473433018013</id><published>2009-11-29T19:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T19:54:53.929+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Age'/><title type='text'>Grandma's Idea</title><content type='html'>A man walks up to his house and notices his grandfather sitting on the porch, in the rocking chair, with nothing on from the waist down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Grandpa, what are you doing?” he exclaims. The old man looks off in the distance without answering. “Grandpa, what are you doing sitting out here with nothing on below the waist?” he asks again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man slowly looks at him and says, “Well, last week I sat out here with no shirt on, and I got a stiff neck. This is your grandma’s idea.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8198413473433018013?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8198413473433018013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8198413473433018013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8198413473433018013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8198413473433018013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/grandmas-idea.html' title='Grandma&apos;s Idea'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7295584304988670780</id><published>2009-11-19T14:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T14:46:42.488+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflections'/><title type='text'>Different Views</title><content type='html'>A Brit, a Frenchman and a Russian are viewing a painting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Brit, a Frenchman and a Russian are viewing a painting of Adam and Eve frolicking in the Garden of Eden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look at their reserve, their calm," muses the Brit. "They must be British."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nonsense," the Frenchman disagrees. "They're naked, and so beautiful. Clearly, they are French."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No clothes, no shelter," the Russian points out, "they have only an apple to eat, and they're being told this is paradise. They are Russian."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7295584304988670780?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7295584304988670780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7295584304988670780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7295584304988670780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7295584304988670780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/different-views.html' title='Different Views'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-9063271881951890084</id><published>2009-11-12T23:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T23:55:16.269+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband'/><title type='text'>Her Sexual Problem</title><content type='html'>A woman went to her psychiatrist because she was having severe problems with her sex life.&lt;br /&gt;The psychiatrist asked her many questions but did not seem to be getting a clear picture of her problems. Finally he asked, "Do you ever watch your husband's face while you are having sex?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yes, I did once," the woman replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, how did he look?" coaxed the psychiatrist.&lt;br /&gt;"Very angry," she answered.&lt;br /&gt;At this point the psychiatrist felt that he was really getting somewhere and he said, "Well, that's very interesting, we must look into this further. Now, you say that you have only seen your husband's face once during sex; that seems somewhat unusual. Tell me, how did it occur that you saw his face that time?"&lt;br /&gt;"He was outside, looking through the window at us."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-9063271881951890084?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/9063271881951890084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=9063271881951890084' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9063271881951890084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9063271881951890084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/her-sexual-problem.html' title='Her Sexual Problem'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8072872859253146897</id><published>2009-11-11T23:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T23:33:06.988+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wife'/><title type='text'>The Trucker</title><content type='html'>A trucker who has been out on the road for three weeks stops into a brothel. He walks straight up to the Madam, drops down $500 and says, "I want your ugliest woman and a burnt chop!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Madam is astonished. "But, sir, for that kind of money you could have one of my finest ladies and a lovely three-course meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trucker replies, "I'm not horny . . . . I'm homesick."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8072872859253146897?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8072872859253146897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8072872859253146897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8072872859253146897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8072872859253146897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/trucker.html' title='The Trucker'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3470967868420378995</id><published>2009-11-10T17:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T17:48:50.273+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><title type='text'>The Basement</title><content type='html'>An elderly lawyer was about to die. One day he told his wife he had come up with a way to take all of the money he had with him to heaven. He told his wife to put all of his money in the attic so when he died he could grab it on the way up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks after he died his wife was cleaning out the attic and saw that the money bags were still there. "That old fool," she chuckled. "I told him that we should have put the money in the basement!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3470967868420378995?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3470967868420378995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3470967868420378995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3470967868420378995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3470967868420378995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/basement.html' title='The Basement'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4042154706279718840</id><published>2009-11-07T23:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T23:28:41.298+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Loud Sex</title><content type='html'>A wife went in to see a therapist and said, "I've got a big problem, doctor. Every time we're in bed and my husband climaxes, he lets out this ear splitting yell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My dear," the shrink said, "that's completely natural. I don't see what the problem is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The problem is," she complained, "it wakes me up!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4042154706279718840?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4042154706279718840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4042154706279718840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4042154706279718840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4042154706279718840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/loud-sex.html' title='Loud Sex'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-6317938095681823016</id><published>2009-11-06T22:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T22:05:06.706+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Age'/><title type='text'>The Nudist Colony</title><content type='html'>A man joins a very exclusive nudist colony. On his first day there he takes off his clothes and starts to wander around. A gorgeous petite blonde walks by, and the man immediately gets an erection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman notices his erection, comes over to him and says, "Did you call for me?"&lt;br /&gt;The man replies "No. What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You must be new here," she says. "Let me explain. It's a rule here that if you get an erection it implies  you called for me." Smiling, she then leads him to the side of the swimming pool, lies down on a towel, eagerly pulls him to her and happily lets him have his way with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finished, the man continues to explore the colony's facilities. He enters the sauna and as he sits down, he farts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within minutes a huge, hairy man lumbers out of the steam room toward him. "Did you call for me?" says the hairy man.&lt;br /&gt;"No. What do you mean?" says the newcomer.&lt;br /&gt;"You must be new," says the hairy man. "It's a rule that if you fart, it implies that you called for me." The huge man easily spins the newcomer around, bends him over a bench and has his way with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The newcomer staggers back to the nudist colony office, where he is greeted by the smiling, naked receptionist. "May I help you?" she says.&lt;br /&gt;"Here's my membership card. You can have the key back and you can keep the $500 membership fee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But sir," she replies, "you've only been here  for a few hours. You haven't had the chance to see all our facilities."&lt;br /&gt;"Listen lady," the man replies, "I'm 68 years old. I get an erection once a month, but I fart 15 times a day! I'm outta here!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-6317938095681823016?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6317938095681823016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=6317938095681823016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6317938095681823016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6317938095681823016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/nudist-colony.html' title='The Nudist Colony'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8035816430653574277</id><published>2009-11-06T14:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T14:40:21.845+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>The Blonde Farmer</title><content type='html'>A man is driving down a country road, when he spots a farmer standing in the middle of a huge field of grass. Of course the famer is a blonde. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulls the car over to the side of the road and notices that the farmer is just standing there, doing nothing, looking at nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man gets out of the car, walks all the way out to the farmer and asks him, "Ah excuse me mister, but what are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer replies, "I'm trying to win a Nobel Prize."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How?" asks the man, puzzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I heard they give the Nobel Prize to people who are out standing in their field!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8035816430653574277?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8035816430653574277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8035816430653574277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8035816430653574277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8035816430653574277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/blonde-farmer.html' title='The Blonde Farmer'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-1919174054058964188</id><published>2009-11-05T21:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T21:17:31.928+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Others'/><title type='text'>Cold Winter Night</title><content type='html'>On a very cold winter night, three homeless men huddled up close to keep warm. In the morning, the guy on the right says, "I had a dream that someone was pulling on my dick."&lt;br /&gt;The guy on the left says, "I also had a dream that someone was pulling on my dick."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The guy in the middle says, "I had a dream that I went skiing."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-1919174054058964188?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1919174054058964188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=1919174054058964188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1919174054058964188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1919174054058964188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/cold-winter-night.html' title='Cold Winter Night'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3262317108379129635</id><published>2009-11-04T18:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T18:33:04.422+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>Bragging About 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/8639258271054499099-3262317108379129635?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3262317108379129635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3262317108379129635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3262317108379129635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3262317108379129635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/bragging-about-japan.html' title='Bragging About Japan'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-613862391817017306</id><published>2009-10-26T19:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T19:24:28.574+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>Where is God?</title><content type='html'>A couple had two little boys, ages 8 and 10, who were excessively mischievous. They were always getting into trouble and their parents knew that, if any mischief occurred in their town, their sons were probably involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They boys' mother heard that a clergyman in town had been successful in disciplining children, so she asked if he would speak with her boys. The clergyman agreed, but asked to see them individually. So the mother sent her 8-year-old first, in the morning, with the older boy to see the clergyman in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clergyman, a huge man with a booming voice, sat the younger boy down and asked him&lt;br /&gt;sternly, "Where is God?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They boy's mouth dropped open, but he made no response, sitting there with his mouth hanging open, wide-eyed. So the clergyman repeated the question in an even sterner tone, "Where is God!!?" Again the boy made no attempt to answer. So the clergyman raised his voice even more and shook his finger in the boy's face and bellowed, "WHERE IS GOD!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy screamed and bolted from the room, ran directly home and dove into his closet, slamming the door behind him. When his older brother found him in the closet, he asked,  "What happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The younger brother, gasping for breath, replied, "We are in BIG trouble this time, dude. God is missing - and they think WE did it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-613862391817017306?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/613862391817017306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=613862391817017306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/613862391817017306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/613862391817017306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/where-is-god.html' title='Where is God?'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4636668133761455356</id><published>2009-10-22T23:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T23:21:28.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Of Town On Business</title><content type='html'>I checked into a hotel on a business trip and was a bit lonely, so I thought I'd get one of those girls you see advertised in phone booths when you're calling for a cab.&lt;br /&gt;I had grabbed a woman's card when I called a cab to take me from the airport to the hotel. It was an ad for a girl named Erogonique, a lovely girl, bending over in the photo. She had all the right curves in all the right places, beautiful long, wavy hair, long graceful legs that went all the way up to her firm, shapely butt. So I'm in my room and figure, "What the hell, I'll giver her a call."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello?" the woman says. Gawd, she sounded sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi," I began. "I hear you give a great massage and I'd like you to come to my room and give me one. No, wait, I should be straight with you. I'm in town all alone and what I really want is sex. I want it hard, I want it hot and I want it now! I'm talking kinky the whole night long. You name it, we'll do it. Bring implements, toys, everything you've got in your bag of tricks. We'll go hot and heavy all night - tie me up, wear a strap-on, cover me in chocolate syrup and whipped cream - anything you want, baby. Now, how does that sound?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That sounds fantastic," she said, "but for an outside line you need to press 9."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4636668133761455356?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4636668133761455356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4636668133761455356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4636668133761455356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4636668133761455356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/out-of-town-on-business.html' title='Out Of Town On Business'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5887449228580653802</id><published>2009-10-21T19:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T19:05:12.276+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>First Murder Case</title><content type='html'>A blonde walks into the police department looking for a job.&lt;br /&gt;The officer wants to ask her a few questions....&lt;br /&gt;Officer: What's 2+2?&lt;br /&gt;Blonde: Ummmmm... 4!&lt;br /&gt;Officer: What's the square root of 100?&lt;br /&gt;Blonde: Ummmm... 10!&lt;br /&gt;Officer: Good! Now, who killed Abraham Lincoln?&lt;br /&gt;Blonde: Ummmm... I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;Officer: Well, you can go home and think about it. Come back tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;The blonde goes home and calls up one of her friends, who asks her if she got the job. The blonde says, excitedly, "Not only did I get the job, I'm already working on a murder case!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5887449228580653802?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5887449228580653802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5887449228580653802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5887449228580653802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5887449228580653802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/first-murder-case.html' title='First Murder Case'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7026332574402197400</id><published>2009-10-20T18:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T18:47:04.131+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>Delivering A Baby</title><content type='html'>A country doctor went way out to the boondocks to deliver a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so far out, there was no electricity. When the doctor arrived, no one was home except for the laboring mother and her 5-year-old child. The doctor instructed the child to hold a lantern high so he could see, while he helped the woman deliver the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The child did so, the mother pushed and after a little while, the doctor lifted the newborn baby by the feet and spanked him on the bottom to get him to take his first breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor then asked the 5-year-old what he thought of the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hit him again," the 5-year-old said. "He shouldn't have crawled up there in the first place!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7026332574402197400?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7026332574402197400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7026332574402197400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7026332574402197400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7026332574402197400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/delivering-baby.html' title='Delivering A Baby'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3203740639237100205</id><published>2009-10-18T10:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T10:40:04.205+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyer'/><title type='text'>Daddy Action...</title><content type='html'>A grade school teacher was asking students what their parents did for a living. "Tim, you be first," she said. "What does your mother do all day?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim stood up and proudly said, "She's a doctor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's wonderful. How about you, Amie?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amie shyly stood up, scuffed her feet and said, "My father is a mailman."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you, Amie," said the teacher. "What about your father, Billy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy proudly stood up and announced, "My daddy murders people, steals from them, and drinks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher was aghast and promptly changed the subject to geography. Later that day she went to Billy's house and rang the bell. Billy's father answered the door. The teacher explained what his son had said and asked if there might be some logical explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy's father said, "I'm actually an attorney. But how can I explain a thing like that to a seven-year-old?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3203740639237100205?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3203740639237100205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3203740639237100205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3203740639237100205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3203740639237100205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/daddy-action.html' title='Daddy Action...'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5588615073826412791</id><published>2009-10-14T23:25:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T23:25:51.849+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Age'/><title type='text'>Decisions</title><content type='html'>A married couple was celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary. At the party everybody wanted to know how they managed to stay married so long in this day and age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband responded "When we were first married we came to an agreement. I would make all the major decisions and my wife would make all the minor decisions. And in 60 years of marriage we have never needed to make a major decision."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5588615073826412791?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5588615073826412791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5588615073826412791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5588615073826412791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5588615073826412791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/decisions.html' title='Decisions'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7205189836006003004</id><published>2009-10-13T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T18:11:23.681+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mother'/><title type='text'>The Rookie</title><content type='html'>A young man decided to join the police force. As a recruit he was asked during the exam, "What would you do if you had to arrest your own mother?"&lt;br /&gt;"Call for backup," he answered.&lt;br /&gt;He made the force.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7205189836006003004?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7205189836006003004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7205189836006003004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7205189836006003004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7205189836006003004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/rookie.html' title='The Rookie'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3903151536304128636</id><published>2009-10-12T19:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T19:28:55.966+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short Jokes'/><title type='text'>Five Quickies</title><content type='html'>1. He said: "I don't know why you wear a bra; you've got nothing to put in it."&lt;br /&gt;She said: "You wear pants, don't you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. On a wall in a ladies room: "My husband follows me everywhere!"&lt;br /&gt;Written just below it: "I do not!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Why are blonde jokes so short?&lt;br /&gt;So men can remember them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. How many men does it take to change a roll of toilet paper?&lt;br /&gt;We don't know; it has never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.What do you call a woman who knows where her husband is every night?&lt;br /&gt;A widow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3903151536304128636?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3903151536304128636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3903151536304128636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3903151536304128636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3903151536304128636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/five-quickies.html' title='Five Quickies'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7131424454842725926</id><published>2009-10-11T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T23:19:04.138+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Army'/><title type='text'>Military Humor</title><content type='html'>The commanding general had a female major for his adjutant. Because of this, whenever he had to respond to a call of nature instead of telling her he was off to the latrine he would say, "I'm off to inspect the barracks."&lt;br /&gt;One day, the general comes out of his office and says to the major, "I'm off to inspect the barracks."&lt;br /&gt;The major nodded knowingly but, when the general returned, she noticed he had left his fly open. Thinking quickly, she said, "Excuse me, general, but you left the barracks door open on that last inspection."&lt;br /&gt;The general looks down and, slightly embarrassed, zips up his fly and goes into his office. Two minutes later, he comes back out and says to his adjutant, "Pardon me, major, but when you looked into that open barracks door did you happen to handsome recruit standing at attention."&lt;br /&gt;"No, sir," the major replied. "All I saw was a tired, old career officer passed out on a pair of half empty duffle bags."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7131424454842725926?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7131424454842725926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7131424454842725926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7131424454842725926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7131424454842725926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/military-humor.html' title='Military Humor'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7906185462600714419</id><published>2009-10-09T18:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T18:12:28.033+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>Brains</title><content type='html'>A Three-year-old little boy was examining his testicles while taking a bath.&lt;br /&gt;"Mama," he asked, "Are these my brains?"&lt;br /&gt;"Not yet," Mama answered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7906185462600714419?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7906185462600714419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7906185462600714419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7906185462600714419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7906185462600714419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/brains.html' title='Brains'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-530175374367296734</id><published>2009-10-07T17:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T17:21:58.103+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teenagers'/><title type='text'>Car Privileges</title><content type='html'>The mother and father had just given their teenage daughter family-car privileges. On Saturday night she returned home very late from a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning her father went out to the driveway to get the newspaper and came back into the house frowning. At 11:30 AM the girl sleepily walked into the kitchen, and her father asked her, "Sweetheart, what time did you get in last night?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not too late, Dad." she replied nervously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dead-panned, her father said, "Then, my precious one, I'll have to talk with the paperboy about putting my paper under the front tire of the car."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-530175374367296734?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/530175374367296734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=530175374367296734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/530175374367296734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/530175374367296734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/10/car-privileges.html' title='Car Privileges'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-9019252095573706699</id><published>2009-09-30T21:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T21:21:25.408+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Signs'/><title type='text'>Top Sex Bumper Stickers</title><content type='html'>1. Legalize prostitution. Ugly people want to have sex, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Safe sex is in the palm of your hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sex on TV is great ... until I fall off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My other ride is your mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I gave up drinking, smoking and sex. Worst 15 minutes of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I need someone really bad. Are you really bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Please tell your pants it's not polite to point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I'm not perfect, but parts of me are incredible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-9019252095573706699?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/9019252095573706699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=9019252095573706699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9019252095573706699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9019252095573706699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/top-sex-bumper-stickers.html' title='Top Sex Bumper Stickers'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3624462555910539630</id><published>2009-09-29T16:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T16:09:06.333+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Lingerie Shopping</title><content type='html'>A man walked into the Women's Department of Macy's in New York City and told the saleslady, "I would like a Baptist bra for my wife, size 36B."&lt;br /&gt;With a quizzical look the saleslady asked? "What kind of bra?"&lt;br /&gt;"A Baptist Bra," he repeated. "She said to tell you that she wanted a Baptist Bra, and that you would know what she wanted."&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, now I remember" said the saleslady. "We don't get as many requests for them as we used to. Mostly our customers lately want the Catholic bra, or the Salvation Army bra, or the Presbyterian type."&lt;br /&gt;Confused, and a little flustered, the man asked, "So, what are the differences?"&lt;br /&gt;"It is all really quite simple," replied the sales lady. "The Catholic type supports the masses, the Salvation Army lifts up the fallen, and the Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright."&lt;br /&gt;He mused on that information for a minute, then asked "So, what is the Baptist type for?"&lt;br /&gt;"They", she replied, "make mountains out of molehills."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3624462555910539630?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3624462555910539630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3624462555910539630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3624462555910539630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3624462555910539630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/lingerie-shopping.html' title='Lingerie Shopping'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7951968765887874702</id><published>2009-09-25T23:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T23:01:20.394+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor'/><title type='text'>My Own Funeral</title><content type='html'>A famous heart specialist doctor died and everyone was gathered at his funeral. A regular coffin was displayed in front of a huge heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the minister finished with the sermon and after everyone said their good-byes, the heart was opened, the coffin rolled inside, and the heart closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just at that moment one of the mourners started laughing.&lt;br /&gt;The guy next to him asked: "Why are you laughing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was thinking about my own funeral" the man replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's so funny about that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a gynecologist."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7951968765887874702?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7951968765887874702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7951968765887874702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7951968765887874702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7951968765887874702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-own-funeral.html' title='My Own Funeral'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2305168177632643629</id><published>2009-09-20T00:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T00:35:02.211+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men And Women'/><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>"What? You say you love her, and yet, when you saw her with another man, you did nothing?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm waiting," said Jeb.&lt;br /&gt;"Waiting for what, Jeb?"&lt;br /&gt;"Waiting to catch her with a smaller guy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2305168177632643629?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2305168177632643629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2305168177632643629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2305168177632643629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2305168177632643629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5094919378649877150</id><published>2009-09-20T00:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T00:33:46.585+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short Jokes'/><title type='text'>The Last Word</title><content type='html'>By definition, the woman always has the last word in any argument.&lt;br /&gt;Anything a man says after her is the beginning of a new argument!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5094919378649877150?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5094919378649877150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5094919378649877150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5094919378649877150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5094919378649877150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/last-word.html' title='The Last Word'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8250916957171738158</id><published>2009-09-16T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T21:36:13.755+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><title type='text'>The Soccer Stars</title><content type='html'>A teacher at a school for blind kids is taking his school's soccer team to an "away game". They stop for a rest break, and to let the kids work off some energy with a little impromptu practice in a nearby pasture. The teacher is sitting in a nearby diner, explaining to another patron how it is that blind kids can play soccer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We made a special ball, with a bell in it, so the kids can keep track of where the ball is and what it's doing by listening for it. They're pretty good at it too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very clever!" remarks the other patron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then they are interrupted as another patron, who is looking out the window, says, "Hey! Are you the guy with those darn blind kids from the bus?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," says the teacher, stung by the way "his" kids are being refered to, "what about it? You got something against blind kids?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing, ordinarily," says the guy, still scowling out the window, "but you better get them rounded up quick! They're kicking the heck out of my best milk cow!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8250916957171738158?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8250916957171738158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8250916957171738158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8250916957171738158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8250916957171738158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/soccer-stars.html' title='The Soccer Stars'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2873140747688245442</id><published>2009-09-15T21:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T21:48:55.572+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunk'/><title type='text'>Drunk Driver</title><content type='html'>A police officer pulls over this guy who had been weaving in and out of the lanes. He goes up to the guy's window and says "Sir, I need you to blow into this breathalyzer tube."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "Sorry officer I can't do that. I am an asthmatic. If I do that I'll have a really bad asthma attack."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, fine. I need you to come down to the station to give a blood sample."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't do that either. I am a hemophiliac. If I do that, I'll bleed to death."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, then we need a urine sample."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry officer I can't do that either. I am also a diabetic. If I do that I'll get really low blood sugar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright then I need you to come out here and walk this white line."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't do that, officer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why not?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because I'm too drunk to do that."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2873140747688245442?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2873140747688245442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2873140747688245442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2873140747688245442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2873140747688245442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/drunk-driver.html' title='Drunk Driver'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-1430592063724963502</id><published>2009-09-13T20:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T20:55:12.732+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Things You May Hear Just Before Unemployment.....</title><content type='html'>-- I don't know what we'll do without you, but we are certainly going to try!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- We told everyone you are leaving because of illness. The truth is, I'm sick of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Its not that you aren't a responsible worker. In fact, you've been responsible for more disasters than any one else in the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Today I'm going to mix business and pleasure. You're fired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- I've got good news for you. You won't have to worry about being late for work 'ever again'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Tell me - how long have you been with us not counting tomorrow?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-1430592063724963502?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1430592063724963502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=1430592063724963502' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1430592063724963502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1430592063724963502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/things-you-may-hear-just-before.html' title='Things You May Hear Just Before Unemployment.....'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8000664222789299773</id><published>2009-09-12T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T22:46:56.622+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Age'/><title type='text'>Life Begins At 50 Q &amp; A</title><content type='html'>Q1. Where can a 50-year-old woman find young sexy men who will be interested in her?&lt;br /&gt;A1. Try a bookstore …under fiction!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q2. What should a man do while his wife is going through menopause?&lt;br /&gt;A2. Stay busy. Try finishing the basement. When you're done, you'll have a place to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q3. How can you increase your 50-year-old husband's heart rate?&lt;br /&gt;A3. Tell him you're pregnant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q4. How can I avoid seeing wrinkles when I pass a mirror?&lt;br /&gt;A4. Take off your glasses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q5. Why should 50-year-olds use valet parking?&lt;br /&gt;A5. Valets remember where they park your car.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q6. Do most 50-year-olds have problems with short term memory storage?&lt;br /&gt;A6. Memory storage is no problem; the problem is memory retrieval!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q7. Do 50-year-olds sleep more soundly?&lt;br /&gt;A7. Yes; usually in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q.8. What is the most common remark made by a 50-year-olds in an antique store?&lt;br /&gt;A8. "I remember these!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8000664222789299773?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8000664222789299773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8000664222789299773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8000664222789299773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8000664222789299773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/life-begins-at-50-q.html' title='Life Begins At 50 Q &amp; A'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-9055881716454107033</id><published>2009-09-11T06:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T06:19:42.762+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wife'/><title type='text'>Extra Cash</title><content type='html'>After many months of trying to make ends meet, a couple decided that the only way they were going to get any extra cash was to have the old lady start hooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early the next morning the wife came home looking very haggard and worn out. The husband guiltily asked how she did, to which the wife replied that she earned two hundred dollars and 50 cents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That’s great!“ the husband replies. “But who gave you the 50 cents?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Everybody!” replied the wife.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-9055881716454107033?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/9055881716454107033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=9055881716454107033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9055881716454107033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9055881716454107033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/extra-cash.html' title='Extra Cash'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-584391750729126866</id><published>2009-09-08T18:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T18:01:27.308+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher'/><title type='text'>Unlawful And Illegal</title><content type='html'>A  teacher was asking her class: "What is the difference between 'unlawful'  and 'illegal'?" Only one hand shot up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, answer,  Joan" said the teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'Unlawful' is when you do something the law  doesn't allow and 'illegal' is a sick  eagle."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-584391750729126866?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/584391750729126866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=584391750729126866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/584391750729126866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/584391750729126866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/unlawful-and-illegal.html' title='Unlawful And Illegal'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-757125482940612293</id><published>2009-09-07T12:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T12:58:52.304+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Eggplants</title><content type='html'>A grocer put up a sign that read "Eggplants, 25¢ each -- three for a dollar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day long, customers came in exclaiming: "Don't be ridiculous! I should get four for a dollar!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meekly the grocer capitulated and packaged four eggplants. The tailor next door had been watching these antics and finally asked the grocer, "Aren't you going to fix the mistake on your sign?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What mistake?" the grocer asked. "Before I put up that sign no one ever bought more than one eggplant."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-757125482940612293?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/757125482940612293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=757125482940612293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/757125482940612293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/757125482940612293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/eggplants_07.html' title='Eggplants'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-615109221238398743</id><published>2009-09-07T12:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T12:58:44.892+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Eggplants</title><content type='html'>A grocer put up a sign that read "Eggplants, 25¢ each -- three for a dollar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day long, customers came in exclaiming: "Don't be ridiculous! I should get four for a dollar!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meekly the grocer capitulated and packaged four eggplants. The tailor next door had been watching these antics and finally asked the grocer, "Aren't you going to fix the mistake on your sign?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What mistake?" the grocer asked. "Before I put up that sign no one ever bought more than one eggplant."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-615109221238398743?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/615109221238398743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=615109221238398743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/615109221238398743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/615109221238398743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/eggplants.html' title='Eggplants'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2121671107414616378</id><published>2009-09-05T18:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T18:42:42.944+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wife'/><title type='text'>Paradise Lost</title><content type='html'>Two men who haven't seen each other for many years meet on the street. One asks the other how things have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wonderful, for a while," the other says. "I had it all: money, a magnificent house, a fast car, the love of a beautiful woman. Then, one day, poof! It was all gone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What a shame," the friend says. "What on Earth happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Says the other man: "My wife found out."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2121671107414616378?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2121671107414616378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2121671107414616378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2121671107414616378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2121671107414616378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/paradise-lost.html' title='Paradise Lost'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-909169611795435903</id><published>2009-09-04T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T22:46:20.693+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Butcher Shop</title><content type='html'>A lady goes into the butcher shop and as she is walking around the store, she spies a beef tongue in the butcher's counter. The lady asks, "What in the world is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beef tongue," replies the butcher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady gives a little involuntary shudder, "No way would I put anything in my mouth that came out of an animal's mouth!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The butcher nods sympathetically while peeking into the woman's shopping cart, "I see you're buying a dozen eggs!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-909169611795435903?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/909169611795435903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=909169611795435903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/909169611795435903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/909169611795435903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/butcher-shop.html' title='Butcher Shop'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3056204328763692594</id><published>2009-09-03T20:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T20:46:40.221+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wife'/><title type='text'>Frying Eggs</title><content type='html'>The wife was busy frying eggs, when her husband came home. He walked into the kitchen and immediately started yelling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"CAREFUL!!! CAREFUL!!! MORE OIL!!! TURN THEM!!! TURN THEM NOW!!! WE NEED MORE OIL!!! THEY ARE GOING TO STICK!!! CAREFUL!!! CAREFUL!!! TURN THEM!!! TURN THEM!!! HURRY UP!!! ARE YOU CRAZY!!!! THE OIL IS GOING TO SPILL!!! USE MORE SALT!!! THE SALT!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife was very upset, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you yelling like this? Do you think I don't know how to fry an egg?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband calmly replied, "This is to show you what it feels like for me when I am driving and you sit next to me..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3056204328763692594?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3056204328763692594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3056204328763692594' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3056204328763692594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3056204328763692594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/09/frying-eggs.html' title='Frying Eggs'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8086982408041045749</id><published>2009-08-30T22:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T22:25:30.742+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Unlocking The Door</title><content type='html'>One night, a man and his lady friend were about to enter his apartment, when, before he could open the door, she said, “Wait a minute, I can tell how a man makes love by how he unlocks his door.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, “Well, give me some examples.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady explains, “Well, if a guy shoves his key in the lock, and opens the door hard, then that means he is a rough lover and that isn't for me. If a man fumbles around and can’t seem to find the hole, then that means he is inexperienced, and that isn’t for me either.” Then she said, “How do you unlock your door?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man answered, “Well, before I do anything else, I lick the lock…”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8086982408041045749?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8086982408041045749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8086982408041045749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8086982408041045749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8086982408041045749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/unlocking-door.html' title='Unlocking The Door'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-1975166573559726655</id><published>2009-08-29T21:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T21:55:54.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You might be an Accountant if...</title><content type='html'>- you refer to your child as Deduction 214.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- you deduct Exlax as "Moving expenses".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- you have no idea that GAP is also a clothing store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- at the movie "Indecent Proposal" you did a NPV calculation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- getting to sleep is an exciting event that you look forward to all day long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- your idea of trashing your hotel room is refusing to fill out the guest comment card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- you are doing it now because you checked the file and found that you did it last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- you decide to change your name to a symbol and you choose the double underline "======".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-1975166573559726655?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1975166573559726655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=1975166573559726655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1975166573559726655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1975166573559726655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-might-be-accountant-if.html' title='You might be an Accountant if...'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2187143643648053313</id><published>2009-08-29T06:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T06:51:54.856+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Having An Affair</title><content type='html'>Mary was having an affair during the day while her husband was at work. One day, she was in bed with her boyfriend Ralph, when she heard her husband's car pull in the driveway. She yelled at Ralph, "Hurry! grab your clothes and jump out the window, my husband is home early!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph looked out the window and said, "I can't jump out the window! It's raining like hell out there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary cried, "If my husband catches us in here, he will kill both of us!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Ralph grabbed his clothes and jumped out the window. When he landed outside he found himself in the middle of a marathon race, so he started running along side the others, only he was still in the nude, carrying his clothes on his arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the runners asked him, "Do you always run in the nude?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph answered, while gasping for air, "Oh yes, it feels so free having the air blow over your skin while you are running."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then another runner asked, "Do you always run carrying your clothes on your arm?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph answered breathlessly, "Oh yes, that way I can get dressed at the end of the run and get in my car to go home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then another runner asked, "Do you always wear a condom when you run?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph answered, "Only if it's raining."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2187143643648053313?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2187143643648053313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2187143643648053313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2187143643648053313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2187143643648053313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/having-affair.html' title='Having An Affair'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-8034179346704658941</id><published>2009-08-27T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T21:12:12.853+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Books For College</title><content type='html'>A blonde student was in his the college campus bookstore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questioning the store clerk about a book for one of his classes, the clerk responded, "This book will do half the job for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good," the blonde replied, "I'll take two."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-8034179346704658941?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8034179346704658941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=8034179346704658941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8034179346704658941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/8034179346704658941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/books-for-college.html' title='Books For College'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-6449427963361525607</id><published>2009-08-26T18:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T18:26:41.630+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mother'/><title type='text'>A Mother at 65!</title><content type='html'>With the help of a fertility specialist, a 65 year old woman has a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All her relatives come to visit and meet the newest member of their family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they ask to see the baby, the 65 year old mother says "Not yet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little later they ask to see the baby again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again the mother says "Not yet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally they say, "When can we see the baby?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the mother says, "When the baby cries."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they ask, "Why do we have to wait until the baby cries?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new mother says, "because I forgot where I put it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-6449427963361525607?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6449427963361525607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=6449427963361525607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6449427963361525607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6449427963361525607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/mother-at-65.html' title='A Mother at 65!'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4424960541125835399</id><published>2009-08-25T07:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T07:18:24.281+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband'/><title type='text'>A Missing Person</title><content type='html'>Recently, a distraught wife went to the local police station, along with her next-door neighbor, to report that her husband was missing. The policeman asked for a description of the missing man.The wife said, "He is 35 years old, 6-foot 4-inches, has dark eyes, dark wavy hair, an athletic build, weighs 185 pounds, is soft-spoken, and is good to the children."The next-door neighbor protested, "Your husband is 5-foot 8-inches, chubby, bald, has a big mouth, and is mean to your children."The wife replied, "Yes, but who wants HIM back?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4424960541125835399?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4424960541125835399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4424960541125835399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4424960541125835399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4424960541125835399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/missing-person.html' title='A Missing Person'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7139615548962078553</id><published>2009-08-23T18:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T18:40:18.546+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wife'/><title type='text'>Car Problem</title><content type='html'>A man's wife came home and said, "Honey, the car won't start, but I know what the problem is."&lt;br /&gt;He asked her what it was, and she told him there was water in the carburetor. Her husband thought for a moment, then said, "You know, I don't mean this offensively, but you don't know the carburetor from the accelerator."&lt;br /&gt;"No," she insisted, "there's definitely water in the carburetor."&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, honey, that's fine," he said. "I'll go take a look... where is it?"&lt;br /&gt;"In the lake," she replied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7139615548962078553?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7139615548962078553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7139615548962078553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7139615548962078553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7139615548962078553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/car-problem.html' title='Car Problem'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3596767803641631410</id><published>2009-08-22T22:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T22:33:00.133+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Postman Retiring</title><content type='html'>The neighborhood postman was retiring after 30 years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The neighborhood postman was retiring after 30 years. On his last day of delivering mail, all of the people on his route left him something in the mail box in honor of his retirement. Some left money, some left small gifts, and some met him at the door and invited him in for a drink.&lt;br /&gt;As he was putting the mail in the mailbox of the last house, the door opened, and the woman of the house stood there in beautiful lingerie. She invited him inside and lead him upstairs where she made mad passionate love to him. After their lovemaking she lead him downstairs where she prepaired an exquisite dinner for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He found a dollar bill under his plate as he ate and asked her about it. She explained, "When I called my husband to tell ask him what we should give you for your retirement, he said, 'screw him, give him a dollar.' Dinner was my idea."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3596767803641631410?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3596767803641631410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3596767803641631410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3596767803641631410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3596767803641631410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/postman-retiring.html' title='Postman Retiring'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3031406614839393498</id><published>2009-08-22T10:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T10:22:20.568+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Parachute Jumping</title><content type='html'>On the first day of training for parachute jumping, a blonde listened intently to the instructor. He told them to start preparing for landing when they are at 300 feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blonde asked, "How am I supposed to know when I'm at 300 feet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's a good question. When you get to 300 feet, you can recognize the faces of people on the ground."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After pondering his answer, she asked, "What happens if there's no one there I know?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3031406614839393498?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3031406614839393498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3031406614839393498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3031406614839393498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3031406614839393498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/parachute-jumping.html' title='Parachute Jumping'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7884538458020369897</id><published>2009-08-20T07:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T07:37:00.652+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>The Wedding Night</title><content type='html'>A married couple is about to have sex for the first time on their wedding night.&lt;br /&gt;They start to undress, and the husband removes his shoes. The wife notices something frightful about his feet. "Oh my goodness! What happened to your toes?" she exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;"I have tolio," he said.&lt;br /&gt;"You mean polio?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Well," the husband explained, "it's kind of like polio except it only affects your toes."&lt;br /&gt;The husband then removes his pants.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my gosh!" the wife exclaimed again. "What happened to your knees?"&lt;br /&gt;"I have kneesles," replied the husband. "It's kind of like measles except it only affects your knees."&lt;br /&gt;The husband finally takes off his underwear.&lt;br /&gt;The wife says, "Wait, let me guess - smallcox."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7884538458020369897?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7884538458020369897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7884538458020369897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7884538458020369897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7884538458020369897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/wedding-night.html' title='The Wedding Night'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-9006251787775988524</id><published>2009-08-17T13:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T13:31:47.560+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>The Gift</title><content type='html'>After being away on business, Tim thought it would be nice to bring his wife a little gift, so he stopped at a department store on his way home.&lt;br /&gt;"How about some perfume?" he asked the cosmetics clerk.&lt;br /&gt;She showed him a $50.00 bottle.&lt;br /&gt;"That's a bit much," said Tim, so she returned with a smaller bottle for $30.00.&lt;br /&gt;"That's still quite a bit," Tim complained.&lt;br /&gt;Growing annoyed, the clerk brought out a tiny $15.00 bottle.&lt;br /&gt;"What I mean," said Tim, "is I'd like to see something really cheap."&lt;br /&gt;The clerk handed him a mirror.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-9006251787775988524?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/9006251787775988524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=9006251787775988524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9006251787775988524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/9006251787775988524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/gift.html' title='The Gift'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3040201459996424995</id><published>2009-08-16T08:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T08:04:03.867+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Hen Thief</title><content type='html'>A minister in a little church had been having trouble with the collections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Sunday he announced, "Now, before we pass the collection plate, I would like to request that the person who stole the chickens from Farmer Condill's henhouse please refrain from giving any money to the Lord. The Lord doesn't want money from a thief!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The collection plate was passed around, and for the first time in months everybody gave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3040201459996424995?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3040201459996424995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3040201459996424995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3040201459996424995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3040201459996424995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/hen-thief.html' title='Hen Thief'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-4830482853970961310</id><published>2009-08-15T18:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T19:00:26.978+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Sin Of Lying</title><content type='html'>A minister told his congregation, "Next week I plan to preach about the sin of lying. To help you understand my sermon, I want you all to read Mark 17."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following Sunday, as he prepared to deliver his sermon, the minister asked for a show of hands. He wanted to know how many had read Mark 17. Every hand went up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minister smiled and said, "Mark has only sixteen chapters. I will now proceed with my sermon on the sin of lying."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-4830482853970961310?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/4830482853970961310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=4830482853970961310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4830482853970961310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/4830482853970961310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/sin-of-lying.html' title='Sin Of Lying'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-7957288059501068226</id><published>2009-08-13T22:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T22:43:25.764+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Late for Work</title><content type='html'>Jones came into the office an hour late for the third time in one week and found the boss waiting for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the story this time, Jones?" he asked sarcastically. "Let's hear a good excuse for a change."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jones sighed, "Everything went wrong this morning, Boss. The wife decided to drive me to the station. She got ready in ten minutes, but then the drawbridge got stuck. Rather than let you down, I swam across the river -- look, my suit's still damp -- ran out to the airport, got a ride on Mr. Thompson's helicopter, landed on top of Radio City Music Hall, and was carried here piggyback by one of the Rockettes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll have to do better than that, Jones," said the boss, obviously disappointed. "No woman can get ready in ten minutes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-7957288059501068226?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/7957288059501068226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=7957288059501068226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7957288059501068226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/7957288059501068226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/late-for-work.html' title='Late for Work'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-2311640675826870716</id><published>2009-08-12T19:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T19:05:14.905+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Viagra'/><title type='text'>I Am Starving</title><content type='html'>A woman asks her husband, "Would you like some bacon and eggs? A slice of toast and maybe some grapefruit and coffee?" He declines. "Thanks for asking, but I'm not hungry right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's this Viagra," he says. "it's really taken the edge off my appetite...!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At lunchtime she asked if he would like something. "A bowl of soup, homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?" He declines. "The Viagra," he says, "really trashes my desire for food."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come dinner time, again she asks if he wants anything to eat. "Would you like a juicy rib-eye steak and scrumptious apple pie? Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He declines again. "No," he says, "it's got to be the Viagra... I'm still not hungry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," she says, "would you mind getting off me now? I'm starving!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-2311640675826870716?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2311640675826870716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=2311640675826870716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2311640675826870716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/2311640675826870716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-am-starving.html' title='I Am Starving'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-5332389544828877436</id><published>2009-08-11T00:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T00:22:40.355+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult'/><title type='text'>Special Sauce</title><content type='html'>A guy walks into a bar and sees a sign that reads hamburger: $1; cheeseburger: $2; hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;job: $10. He beckons to an attractive blonde behind the counter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can I help you?” she asks with a knowing smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I was wondering,” whispers the man. “Are you the one who gives the hand jobs?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” she purrs. “I am.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, wash your hands,” he says. “I want a cheeseburger.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-5332389544828877436?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5332389544828877436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=5332389544828877436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5332389544828877436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/5332389544828877436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/special-sauce.html' title='Special Sauce'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-1983827850943674309</id><published>2009-08-08T18:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T18:44:16.507+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>CEO's Speech</title><content type='html'>The CEO was scheduled to speak at an important convention, so he asked one of his employees to write him a punchy, 20-minute speech. When the CEO returned from the big event, he was furious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the idea of writing me an hour-long speech?" he demanded to know. "Half the audience walked out before I finished."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The employee was baffled. "I wrote you a 20-minute speech," he replied. "I also gave you the two extra copies you asked for".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-1983827850943674309?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1983827850943674309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=1983827850943674309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1983827850943674309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/1983827850943674309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/ceos-speech.html' title='CEO&apos;s Speech'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-6371417903086653428</id><published>2009-08-06T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T23:36:16.099+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Others'/><title type='text'>Russian Roulette</title><content type='html'>An African leader makes an official trip to Russia. At the end of the trip, the Russian leader tells the African that in Russia they have a custom performed at farewells called "Russian Roulette" to demonstrate one's courage. The Russian whips out a revolver, loads one chamber, gives the cylinder a spin, puts the gun to his head and pulls the trigger.....CLICK.....empty chamber. He hands the revolver to his African guest, and says, "Your turn." Not to be outdone, the African repeats the ritual....CLICK.....empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next year, the Russian visits the African country. At the end of the trip, the African tells his Russian peer that he was very impressed with "Russian Roulette" and that he has spent the last year devising an African ritual to demonstrate one's courage. The African then disappears through a door only to reappear a few minutes later smiling, and says, "Your turn."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The African escorts the Russian through the door. In the room are six of the most beautiful, naked women he has ever seen. The African explains that he is to choose one of the women, who will perform oral sex on him. Absolutely dumbfounded, the Russian asks, "What kind of test of courage is this?! "The African calmly answers...."One of them is a cannibal."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-6371417903086653428?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6371417903086653428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=6371417903086653428' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6371417903086653428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/6371417903086653428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/russian-roulette.html' title='Russian Roulette'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-329951441504356080</id><published>2009-08-06T05:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T05:08:09.058+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor'/><title type='text'>Nice House</title><content type='html'>A man goes to the doctor with a long history of migraine headaches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man goes to the doctor with a long history of migraine headaches. When the doctor does his history and physical, he discovers that his poor patient has had practically every therapy known to man for his migraines and STILL no improvement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Listen,' says the Doc, 'I have migraines, too and the advice I'm going to give you isn't really anything I learned in medical school, but it's advice that I've gotten from my own experience. When I have a migraine, I go home, get in a nice hot bathtub, and soak for a while. Then I have my wife sponge me off with the hottest water I can stand, especially around the forehead. This helps a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I get out of the tub, take her into the bedroom, and even if my head is killing me, I force myself to have sex with her. Almost always, the headache is immediately gone. Now, give it a try, and come back and see me in six weeks.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six weeks later, the patient returns with a big grin. 'Doc! I took your advice and it works! It REALLY WORKS! I've had migraines for 17 years and this is the FIRST time anyone has ever helped me!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Well,' says the physician, 'I'm glad I could help.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'By the way, Doc,' the patient adds, 'You have a REALLY nice house.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-329951441504356080?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/329951441504356080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=329951441504356080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/329951441504356080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/329951441504356080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/nice-house.html' title='Nice House'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-3070372765301966824</id><published>2009-08-04T23:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T23:31:11.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Night's Rest</title><content type='html'>By the time Chuck pulled into a little town every hotel room was taken. He finally pulled up to the very last hotel and went into the office.&lt;br /&gt;"You've got to have a room somewhere," he pleaded. "Or just a bed, I don't care where, I'm too exhausted to go any farther."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I do have a double room with one occupant,"  admitted the manager, "and he might be glad to split the cost but, to tell you the truth, he snores so loudly that people in adjoining rooms have complained in the past. I'm not sure it's worth it to you."&lt;br /&gt;"No problem," Chuck assured him, "I'll take it."&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Chuck came down to breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.&lt;br /&gt;"How'd you sleep?" asked the manager.&lt;br /&gt;"Never better," said Chuck. "Thanks for helping me out."&lt;br /&gt;The manager was impressed. "No problem with the other guy snoring then?"&lt;br /&gt;"Nope. I shut him up in no time," Chuck replied.&lt;br /&gt;"How'd you manage that?" asked the manager.&lt;br /&gt;"He was already in bed, snoring away, when I came in the room," Chuck explained. "I went over, gave him a kiss on the cheek, said, 'Goodnight, beautiful.' He sat up all night watching me sleep."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-3070372765301966824?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3070372765301966824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=3070372765301966824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3070372765301966824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/3070372765301966824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/good-nights-rest.html' title='A Good Night&apos;s Rest'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639258271054499099.post-573244394408774671</id><published>2009-07-31T07:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T07:53:03.555+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde'/><title type='text'>Ventriloquist</title><content type='html'>A young ventriloquist is touring the clubs and stops to entertain at a bar in a small town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's going through his usual run of silly blonde jokes when a big blonde woman in the fourth row stands on her chair and says, "OK jerk, I've heard just about enough of your denigrating blonde jokes. What makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What do a person's physical attributes have to do with their worth as a human being? It's guys like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in my community, of reaching my full potential as a person...because you and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes but women at large... all in the name of humor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flustered, the ventriloquist begins to apologize, when the blonde pipes up, "You stay out of this mister, I'm talking to that little boy on your knee!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8639258271054499099-573244394408774671?l=xeniajokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/feeds/573244394408774671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8639258271054499099&amp;postID=573244394408774671' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/573244394408774671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8639258271054499099/posts/default/573244394408774671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xeniajokes.blogspot.com/2009/07/ventriloquist.html' title='Ventriloquist'/><author><name>Klambat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04576544547282197266</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zuYQ3f-34xI/SY1tg5t_ViI/AAAAAAAAAD8/BrWk1k3-JTQ/S220/klambat.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
