<?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-38435451</id><updated>2012-01-19T09:32:04.745-08:00</updated><category term='Filipino JOkes'/><category term='maid jokes'/><category term='Caddie Jokes'/><category term='Thief Jokes'/><category term='sex jokes'/><category term='court jokes'/><category term='heaven jokes'/><category term='Bank jokes'/><category term='Opportunity Jokes'/><category term='Soldier Jokes'/><category term='Engineer Jokes'/><category term='Liar Jokes'/><category term='boy jokes'/><title type='text'>THE LIGHTER SIDE</title><subtitle type='html'>Easy Living, Health &amp;amp; Money Saving Tips, Fun Jokes. &lt;br&gt; http://dlighterside.blogspot.com</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>172</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8852577845022211618</id><published>2007-11-24T22:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T22:30:00.372-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soldier Jokes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The combat-hardened general was reviewing an elite squadron of paratroopers. "How do you like jumping?" he asked one soldier gruffly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love it, sir," was the reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And you?" asked the general of the next guy in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's the most exhilarating thing I've ever done, sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on down the line, until one soldier replied, "I hate it, sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then why do you jump?" asked the startled officer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because I like being around the kind of men who want to."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8852577845022211618?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8852577845022211618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8852577845022211618&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8852577845022211618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8852577845022211618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/11/combat-hardened-general-was-reviewing.html' title=''/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7155700646004609486</id><published>2007-11-11T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T16:36:59.378-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bank jokes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Gee, Mr. Cripps, we'd really like to give you that loan," chirped the bank officer to the rather seedy character, "but your credit rating isn't exactly...uh...superlative. What assurance can you offer that it'll be paid back on schedule?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Won't a gentleman's word of honor be sufficient?" he asked, in an injured tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Certainly," she said brightly. "When will you be bringing him in?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7155700646004609486?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7155700646004609486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7155700646004609486&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7155700646004609486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7155700646004609486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/11/gee-mr.html' title=''/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3180903809619582841</id><published>2007-11-11T16:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T16:31:52.674-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caddie Jokes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"You must be the worst caddie in the world," said the dejected golfer after a disastrous afternoon on the links.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I doubts it, sir," replied the caddie. "That would be too much of a coincidence."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3180903809619582841?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3180903809619582841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3180903809619582841&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3180903809619582841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3180903809619582841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/11/you-must-be-worst-caddie-in-world-said.html' title=''/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-494478217592384444</id><published>2007-10-11T20:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T06:53:16.425-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Liar Jokes'/><title type='text'>praises</title><content type='html'>Hearing all this praise makes me feel the soul on Judgment Day who rose, looked at words on his tombstone, and remarked, "Either I'm in the wrong hole or someone is a terrible liar."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-494478217592384444?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/494478217592384444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=494478217592384444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/494478217592384444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/494478217592384444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/10/praises.html' title='praises'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7007182113668553525</id><published>2007-10-09T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T06:39:34.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats For Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;There was an elderly man visiting a doctor for his check-up. As he was leaving he asked the doctor if he could recommend a specialist for his wife. "What's wrong with her?" asked the doctor. The old man explained that her hearing was getting so bad that it was almost embarrassing.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;a name="continue" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The&lt;/a&gt; doctor said he knew of several specialists that could help but he wanted the old man to do a little test when he got home to help the doctor determine the severity of her hearing loss. The doctor said "When you get home, make sure your wife's back is turned to you and ask her a question. If she doesn't respond walk closer and ask her again. Keep doing this until she answers and let me know the results". &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;That night when the old man opened the door of his home he could see his wife in the kitchen preparing dinner. She was at the counter with her back to the door. "What's for dinner?" the old man asked. His wife did not respond so he walks to the doorway of the kitchen and asked the question again. Still, he was greeted with silence. This time he walks up just behind her and asks once again "What's for dinner?" His wife spins around a bit agitated and says "For the third time, Fried Chicken!!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7007182113668553525?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7007182113668553525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7007182113668553525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7007182113668553525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7007182113668553525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/10/whats-for-dinner.html' title='Whats For Dinner'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-325431521402363071</id><published>2007-10-04T09:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T06:49:58.121-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thief Jokes'/><title type='text'>So What?</title><content type='html'>The banker Salomon Rothschild was strolling down a crowded street in Vienna when he was jostled by a pickpocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Watch out!" warned his companion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "That fellow's trying to steal your silk handkerchief."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what?" said Rothschild with a shrug. "We all started small."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-325431521402363071?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/325431521402363071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=325431521402363071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/325431521402363071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/325431521402363071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/10/so-what.html' title='So What?'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-4351715300283936076</id><published>2007-09-27T22:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T07:21:37.661-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opportunity Jokes'/><title type='text'>Miss opportunity</title><content type='html'>The problem with chance is that while you're outside looking for a horseshoe or rabbit's foot, you may miss opportunity knocking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-4351715300283936076?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/4351715300283936076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=4351715300283936076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4351715300283936076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4351715300283936076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/miss-opportunity.html' title='Miss opportunity'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1039936932474110616</id><published>2007-09-22T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T17:27:05.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family problems</title><content type='html'>Two men, one American and an Indian were sitting in a bar drinking shot&lt;br /&gt;after shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Indian man said to the American,"You know my parents are forcing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me to get married to this so called homely girl from a village whom I &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haven't even met once.We call this arranged marriage.I don't want to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;marry a woman whom I don't love...I told them that openly and now  have a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hell lot of family problems."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The American said, "Talking about love marriages... I'll tell you my&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I married a widow whom I deeply loved and dated for 3 years.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"After a couple of years, my father fell in love with my step-daughter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so my father became my son-in-law and I became my father's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;father-in-law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter is my mother and my wife my grandmother.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More problems occurred when I had a son. My son is my father's brother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so he my uncle. Situations turned worse when my father had a son. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my father's son i.e. my brother is my grandson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately, I have become my own grand father and I am my own grandson.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you say you have family problems..Gimme a break!!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1039936932474110616?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1039936932474110616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1039936932474110616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1039936932474110616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1039936932474110616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/blog-post_22.html' title='Family problems'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5306360229776605736</id><published>2007-09-14T19:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T06:48:48.405-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='court jokes'/><title type='text'>Court Hearing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Judge: &lt;/span&gt;Mr. Corbin, the police report says you've committed six burglaries in one week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Defendant:&lt;/span&gt; That's right, Your Honor- and if everyone worked as hard as I do, this recession would be behind us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5306360229776605736?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5306360229776605736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5306360229776605736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5306360229776605736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5306360229776605736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/court-hearing.html' title='Court Hearing'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5493927562026179548</id><published>2007-09-05T10:31:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:26:36.649-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex jokes'/><title type='text'>Snowstorm</title><content type='html'>Why is a man like a snowstorm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you don't know when he's coming, how many inches you'll get, or how long it'll stay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5493927562026179548?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5493927562026179548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5493927562026179548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5493927562026179548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5493927562026179548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/snowstorm.html' title='Snowstorm'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2220413450175712385</id><published>2007-09-05T10:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:27:06.935-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex jokes'/><title type='text'>honeymoon postcard</title><content type='html'>A mother has 3 girls, they all got married, but she wants to know how the sex is, so she says that after the night on the honeymoon, they write a postcard saying how it went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 1st girl writes: M&amp;amp;M's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puzzled, the women buys a pack of M&amp;amp;M's and reads the slogan "It melts in your mouth, not in your hand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2nd girl writes: Campbell's soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again the mom buys some cambles soup and reads, "Mmm ... mmm ... good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 weeks pass and the 3rd girl finally writes: Ford&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mom goes to her ford jeep and reads "The best never stop."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2220413450175712385?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2220413450175712385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2220413450175712385&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2220413450175712385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2220413450175712385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/honeymoon-postcard.html' title='honeymoon postcard'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5214703308615231639</id><published>2007-09-05T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:31:39.937-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex jokes'/><title type='text'>Condolences</title><content type='html'>Sadie lost her husband almost four years ago and still has not gotten out of her depression, mourning as if it were only yesterday. Her daughter constantly is calling her and urging her to get back into the world. Finally, Sadie says she'd go out, but didn't know anyone. Her daughter immediately replies, "Mama! I have someone for you to meet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it was an immediate hit. They took to one another and after dating for six weeks he asks her to join him for a weekend in the Catskills. And we know what that meant. Their first night there she undresses, as he does. There she stood, nude, except for a pair of black lacy panties. He in his birthday suit. Looking at her he asks, "Why the black panties?" She replies, "My breasts you can fondle, my body is yours to explore, but down there I am still in mourning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows he's not getting lucky that night. The following night the same scenario. She standing there with the black panties on and he in his birthday suit; except that he has an erection on which he has a black condom. She looks at him and asks, "What's with this ... a black condom?" He replies, "I want to offer my condolences."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5214703308615231639?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5214703308615231639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5214703308615231639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5214703308615231639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5214703308615231639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/condolences.html' title='Condolences'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3489982082399125849</id><published>2007-09-05T10:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:34:23.335-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex jokes'/><title type='text'>Fits</title><content type='html'>&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="jokeA-jo"&gt;Two old ladies were outside their nursing home, having a smoke when it started to rain. One of the ladies pulled out a condom, cut off the end, put it over her cigarette and continued smoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady 1: What's that?&lt;br /&gt;Lady 2: A condom. This way my cigarette doesn't get wet.&lt;br /&gt;Lady 1: Where did you get it?&lt;br /&gt;Lady 2: You can get them at any drugstore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day ... Lady 1 hobbles herself into the local drugstore and announces to the pharmacist that she wants a box of condoms. The guy looks at her kind of strangely (she is, after all, over 80 years of age), but politely asks what brand she prefers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady 1: It doesn't matter as long as it fits a Camel.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3489982082399125849?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3489982082399125849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3489982082399125849&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3489982082399125849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3489982082399125849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/fits.html' title='Fits'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7722998002789747895</id><published>2007-09-05T10:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:34:41.657-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex jokes'/><title type='text'>penis</title><content type='html'>&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="jokeA-jo"&gt;The teacher walked into the classroom to find the word "penis" chalked in small letters on the board. She was a bit embarrassed, so she didn't say anything, but rubbed it out and went on with the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the next day when she came in, she found the same thing again - "penis", this time written slightly larger. So she rubbed it out again, and went on with the lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again next day, in larger letters, there was the word "penis" again. With a red face she rubbed it out and went on with the lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this went on for a whole week, every day the word penis getting bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, on Friday she went into the classroom to find chalked up: "See, the harder you rub it, the bigger it gets!"&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7722998002789747895?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7722998002789747895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7722998002789747895&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7722998002789747895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7722998002789747895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/penis.html' title='penis'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1329759727569371132</id><published>2007-09-05T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:35:16.266-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex jokes'/><title type='text'>Explain</title><content type='html'>There was this couple that had been married for 20 years. Every time they made love the husband always insisted on shutting off the light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, after 20 years the wife felt this was ridiculous. She figured she would break him out of this crazy habit. So one night, while they were in the middle of a wild, screaming, romantic session, she turned on the lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked down. and saw her husband was holding a battery-operated leisure device ... a dildo! Soft, wonderful and larger than a real one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went completely ballistic. "You impotent bastard," She screamed at him, "How could you be lying to me all of these years? You better explain yourself!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband looks her straight in the eyes and says calmly: "I’ll explain the toy ... you explain the kids."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1329759727569371132?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1329759727569371132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1329759727569371132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1329759727569371132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1329759727569371132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/explain.html' title='Explain'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1826201328829235692</id><published>2007-09-05T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:41:00.587-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex jokes'/><title type='text'>Condoms</title><content type='html'>&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="jokeA-jo" colspan="18"&gt;A man goes into a drug store and asks the cashier for some condoms. The cashier asks, "What size?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replies, "Size? I didn't know they came in sizes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, they do," she says, "What size do you want?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, gee, I don't know," the man answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady is used to this, so she tells him to go to the back yard and measure his penis by sticking it into each of the three holes in the fence. While the man is back there, the lady sneaks around to the other side of the fence and spreads her legs behind each hole as the man tests it. When they return, the cashier asks, "What will it be? Small, medium, or large?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replies, "To hell with the condoms, give me a hundred feet of that fence back there!"&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1826201328829235692?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1826201328829235692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1826201328829235692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1826201328829235692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1826201328829235692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/condoms.html' title='Condoms'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8747382710660843871</id><published>2007-09-05T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T06:59:33.443-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Engineer Jokes'/><title type='text'>Engineer</title><content type='html'>&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="jokeA-jo"&gt;Three guys go down to Mexico one night, get drunk and wake up in jail. They find out that they're to be executed for their crimes but none of them can remember what they have done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one is strapped in the electric chair and is asked if he has any last words. He says, "I am a priest and I believe in the almighty power of God to intervene on behalf of the innocent." They throw the switch and nothing happens; so they figure God must not want this guy to die, and let him go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one is strapped in and gives his last words. "I am an attorney and I believe in the eternal power of Justice to intervene on the part of the innocent." The switch is thrown and again nothing happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Figuring the law is on this guy's side, they let him go. The last one is strapped in and say's "I'm an electrical engineer, and I'll tell you right now, you'll never electrocute anybody if you don't connect those two wires." God rest his soul.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8747382710660843871?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8747382710660843871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8747382710660843871&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8747382710660843871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8747382710660843871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/engineer.html' title='Engineer'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3951721265502576116</id><published>2007-09-04T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T07:03:38.603-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maid jokes'/><title type='text'>The Maid</title><content type='html'>&lt;a rel="nofollow" title="Join our Goup Fun and Fun Only (www.mailz.net.tc)" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" href="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fun_and_fun_only"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;A &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;guy dials his home and a              strange woman answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;             &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:red;" &gt;Who is this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;             &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;             &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the maid," answers the woman.&lt;/div&gt;             &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't have a maid," says the  man.&lt;/div&gt;             &lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;The woman says, "I was              hired this morning by the woman of the              house."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "Well, this is her husband. Is              she there?"&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman replies,&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;"She is upstairs in the bed room with someone who I              figured was her husband."&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy is fuming and says to the maid,              "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:green;" &gt;Listen,              would you like to make 50,000?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The maid asks, "What will I have to do?"  &lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man tells her, "I want you to get my gun              from the desk,&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;and shoot the Bitch and the jerk she's with."&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The maid puts the phone down; the man hears              footsteps and then two gun shots.&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The maid comes back to the phone, "What do I              do with the bodies?"&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:red;" &gt;Throw them in the swimming              pool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;color:black;" &gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puzzled, the maid answers, "But you don't              have a pool."&lt;/p&gt;             &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long pause and the man asks, "Oops..! Is              this 2261-1382&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3951721265502576116?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3951721265502576116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3951721265502576116&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3951721265502576116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3951721265502576116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/09/maid.html' title='The Maid'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-190758451694585519</id><published>2007-07-17T14:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T07:06:31.119-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy jokes'/><title type='text'>The Truth</title><content type='html'>At school, a boy is told by a classmate that most adults are hiding at least one dark secret, and that this makes it very easy to blackmail them by saying, “I know the whole truth” -- even when you don't know anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy decides to go home and try it out. As he is greeted by his mother at the front door he says, “I know the whole truth.” His mother quickly hands him $20 and says, “Just don't tell your father.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite pleased, the boy waits for his father to get home from work, and greets him with, “I know the whole truth.” The father promptly hands him $40 and says, “Please don't say a word to your mother.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very pleased, the boy is on his way to school the next day, when he sees the mailman at his front door. The boy greets him by saying, “I know the whole truth.” The mailman drops the mail, opens his arms and says, “Then come give your FATHER a big hug.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-190758451694585519?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/190758451694585519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=190758451694585519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/190758451694585519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/190758451694585519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/truth.html' title='The Truth'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-477919050360620542</id><published>2007-07-03T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T07:08:08.909-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heaven jokes'/><title type='text'>Don't step on a duck!</title><content type='html'>Three women die together in an accident and go to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they get there, St. Peter says, "We only have one rule here in heaven: don't step on the ducks!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they enter heaven, and sure enough, there are ducks all over the place. It is almost impossible not to step on a duck, and although they try their best to avoid them, the first woman accidentally steps on one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along comes St. Peter with the ugliest man she ever saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter chains them together and says, "Your punishment for stepping on a duck is to spend eternity chained to this ugly man!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the second woman steps accidentally on a duck and along comes St. Peter, who doesn't miss a thing. With him is another extremely ugly man. He chains them together with the same admonishment as for the first woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third woman has observed all this and, not wanting to be chained for all eternity to an ugly man, is very, VERY careful where she steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She manages to go months without stepping on any ducks, but one day St. Peter comes up to her with the most handsome man she has ever laid eyes on . very tall, long eyelashes, muscular, and thin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter chains them together without saying a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The happy woman says, "I wonder what I did to deserve being chained to you for all of eternity?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "I don't know about you, but I stepped on a duck!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-477919050360620542?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/477919050360620542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=477919050360620542&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/477919050360620542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/477919050360620542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/dont-step-on-duck.html' title='Don&apos;t step on a duck!'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5262429198863437308</id><published>2007-07-03T14:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:55:20.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>coffin shape</title><content type='html'>A cardiologist was buried in a heartshaped coffin. 1 doctor laughed. when asked why, he said, im just thinking bout my coffin.... Im a GYNECOLOGIST...&lt;br /&gt;laugh.gif&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5262429198863437308?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5262429198863437308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5262429198863437308&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5262429198863437308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5262429198863437308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/coffin-shape.html' title='coffin shape'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3776622509811754086</id><published>2007-07-03T14:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:55:00.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shortest route</title><content type='html'>IF you think that the shortest route to a mans heart is thru his stomach....that' s ancient!...that theory had long been gone when.....BJ was discovered!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3776622509811754086?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3776622509811754086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3776622509811754086&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3776622509811754086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3776622509811754086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/shortest-route.html' title='Shortest route'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-4016270987943755475</id><published>2007-07-03T14:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:54:35.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen carefully</title><content type='html'>LADY visits her doctor again.&lt;br /&gt;DOC: you look more sick and exhausted than before. are you having 3 meals a day as I advised?&lt;br /&gt;LADY: what? I thought 3 MALES a day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-4016270987943755475?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/4016270987943755475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=4016270987943755475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4016270987943755475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4016270987943755475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/listen-carefully.html' title='Listen carefully'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3140923009582130242</id><published>2007-07-03T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:54:10.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Men</title><content type='html'>A very interesting theory:&lt;br /&gt;MENtal illnes&lt;br /&gt;MENtal breakdown&lt;br /&gt;MENstrual cramps&lt;br /&gt;MENopause... .&lt;br /&gt;ever notice how all of women's problems start with.....MEN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3140923009582130242?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3140923009582130242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3140923009582130242&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3140923009582130242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3140923009582130242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/men.html' title='Men'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5595028401520754318</id><published>2007-07-03T14:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:41:37.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation Joke</title><content type='html'>An Arab was interviewed at the US Embassy for a U.S.A. Visa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consul : What is your name?&lt;br /&gt;Arab: Abdul Aziz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consul: Sex?&lt;br /&gt;Arab : Six to ten times a week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consul: I mean, male or female?&lt;br /&gt;Arab : both male and female and sometimes even camels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consul: Holy cow!&lt;br /&gt;Arab : Yes, cows and dogs too!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consul: Man,...isn ' t it hostile?&lt;br /&gt;Arab :Horse style, dog style, any style&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consul: Oh...dear!&lt;br /&gt;Arab : Deer? No deer, they run too fast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5595028401520754318?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5595028401520754318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5595028401520754318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5595028401520754318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5595028401520754318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/conversation-joke.html' title='Conversation Joke'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-4133966309537362471</id><published>2007-07-03T14:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:40:20.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stages of Marriage</title><content type='html'>Year 1: Man goes home, wife gives slippers and dog barks.&lt;br /&gt;Year 2: Man goes home, dog gives slippers and wife barks.&lt;br /&gt;Year 3: At home man and wife barks, slippers hit dog!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-4133966309537362471?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/4133966309537362471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=4133966309537362471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4133966309537362471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4133966309537362471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/stages-of-marriage.html' title='Stages of Marriage'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2979812979817764442</id><published>2007-07-03T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:39:10.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somebody Else</title><content type='html'>A 90-year-old man said to his doctor, "I've never felt better. I have an 18-year-old bride who is pregnant with my child. What do you think about that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor considered his question for a minute and then said, "I have an elderly friend who is a hunter and never misses a season. One day when he was going out in a bit of a hurry, he accidentally picked up his umbrella instead of his gun. When he got to the creek, he saw a beaver sitting beside the stream. He raised his umbrella and went, 'bang, bang' and the beaver fell dead. What do you think of that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 90-year-old said, "I'd say somebody else shot that beaver."&lt;br /&gt;The doctor replied, "My point exactly."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2979812979817764442?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2979812979817764442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2979812979817764442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2979812979817764442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2979812979817764442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/somebody-else.html' title='Somebody Else'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3737397250019067301</id><published>2007-07-03T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T14:38:19.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Vows</title><content type='html'>During the wedding rehearsal, the groom approached the pastor with an unusual offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, I'll give you $100 if you'll change the wedding vows. When you get to me and the part where I'm to promise to "love, honor and obey" and "forsaking all others, be faithful to her forever," I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave that part out." He passed the minister a $100 bill and walked away satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now the day of the wedding, and the bride and groom have moved to that part of the ceremony where the vows are exchanged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes time for the groom's vows, the pastor looks the young man in the eye and says, "Will you promise to prostrate yourself before her, obey her every command and wish, serve her breakfast in bed every morning of your life and swear eternally before God and your lovely wife that you will not ever even look at another woman, as long as you both shall live?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groom gulped and looked around, and said in a tiny voice, "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groom leaned toward the pastor and hissed, "I thought we had a deal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor put the $100 bill into his hand and whispered back, "She made me a much better offer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3737397250019067301?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3737397250019067301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3737397250019067301&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3737397250019067301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3737397250019067301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/07/wedding-vows.html' title='Wedding Vows'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1294475273265640348</id><published>2007-06-28T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T15:09:18.330-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino JOkes'/><title type='text'>More Jokes</title><content type='html'>BISAYA 1  :   Gara ng kutsi, siguro kay Miyur yan?&lt;br /&gt;BISAYA 2  :   Dili Bay!&lt;br /&gt;BISAYA 1  :   kay HIPI.&lt;br /&gt;BISAYA 2  :   Ayyy...tuntu ka man! kay Father iyan. kita mo gisulat nya man sa likud u, "SAFARI"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; Lasing(takot)  :  may multo sa banyo natin.&lt;br /&gt;Wife  :  ha?! Bakit?&lt;br /&gt;Lasing  :  kasi bumubukas yung banyo pag pumapasok ako ng banyo.&lt;br /&gt;Wife  :  AHA! ikaw pala ang umiihi sa REF natin ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANAK  :  Itay, ano po ba kaibahan ng CONFIDENT sa CONFIDENTIAL?&lt;br /&gt;ITAY  :  Anak kita. CONFIDENT ako dyan. Yung best friend mong is tikboy, anak ko din...CONFIDENTIAL yan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MRS 1  :  Suko na ako sa Mister ko, lagi na lang ako binubugbog bago romansahin.&lt;br /&gt;MRS 2  :  Mas grabe yung Mister ko. Binubugbog ako tapos si Inday ang roromansahin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; ***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; MADRE   :  Ano apelyido mo iho?&lt;br /&gt;SAKRISTAN  :  Alam nyo na po yon sister, lagi nyo po yun hinahawakan.&lt;br /&gt;MADRE  :  Susme! Bayag ang apelyido mo?!!&lt;br /&gt;SAKRISTAN  :  Sister naman...Rosario po.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PUPIL  :  Mam, bumubukol po ba ang utot?&lt;br /&gt;TITSER  :  No! Definitely not! Kasi hangin lang yan. Remember hindi bumubukol ang utot.&lt;br /&gt;PUPIL  :  Naku patay! Tae na to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; ***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lumilindol ng malakas noon...&lt;br /&gt;Nagkagulo ang mga tao at nag-panic...&lt;br /&gt;Sumigaw ang isang lalaki..."Katapusan na! Katapusan na!"&lt;br /&gt;sumagot ang isang lalaki..."Tanga! akinse pa lang!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TINDERO  :  Sir bili na kayo ng kurtina!&lt;br /&gt;ERAP  :  Sige bibili ako para sa computer ko.&lt;br /&gt;TINDERO  :  Bakit po para sa computer?&lt;br /&gt;ERAP  :  Haler!!! May Windows din kaya yun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1294475273265640348?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1294475273265640348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1294475273265640348&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1294475273265640348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1294475273265640348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/more-jokes.html' title='More Jokes'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-6384718315751943255</id><published>2007-06-28T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T15:06:04.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Ex- HUbby/ Dear Ex- Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;From Wife&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Husband:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing you this letter to tell you that I'm leaving you for good. I've&lt;br /&gt;been a good woman to you for seven years and I have nothing to show for it.&lt;br /&gt;These last two weeks have been hell... Your boss called to tell me that you&lt;br /&gt;had quit your job today and that was the last straw. Last week, you came&lt;br /&gt;home and didn't notice that I had gotten my hair and nails done, cooked your&lt;br /&gt;favorite meal and even wore a brand new negligee. You came home and ate in&lt;br /&gt;two minutes, and went straight to sleep after watching the game. You don't&lt;br /&gt;tell me you love me anymore, you don't touch me or any thing. Either&lt;br /&gt;you'recheating or you don't love me anymore, whatever the case is, I'm&lt;br /&gt;gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If you're trying to find me, don't. Your BROTHER and I are moving away&lt;br /&gt;to West Virginia together! Have a great life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your EX-Wife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;From Husband&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Ex-Wife:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It's true that you&lt;br /&gt;and I have been married for seven years, although a good woman is a far cry&lt;br /&gt;from what you've been. I watch sports so much to try to drown out your&lt;br /&gt;constant nagging. Too bad that doesn't work. I did notice when you cut off&lt;br /&gt;all of your hair last week, the first thing that came to mind was "You look&lt;br /&gt;just like a man!" My mother raised me to not say anything if you can't say&lt;br /&gt;anything nice. When you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me&lt;br /&gt;confused with MY BROTHER, because I stopped eating pork seven years ago. I&lt;br /&gt;went to sleep on you when you had on that new negligee because the price tag&lt;br /&gt;was still on it. I prayed that it was a coincidence that my brother had just&lt;br /&gt;borrowed fifty dollars from me that morning and your negligee was $49.99.&lt;br /&gt;After all of this, I still loved you and felt that we could work it&lt;br /&gt;out. So when I discovered that I had hit the lotto for ten million dollars,&lt;br /&gt;I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Hawaii. But when I got home you&lt;br /&gt;were gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything happens for a reason I guess. I hope you have the fulfilling life&lt;br /&gt;you always wanted. My lawyer said with your letter that you wrote, you won't&lt;br /&gt;get a dime from me. So take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I don't know if I ever told you this but Carl, my brother was born&lt;br /&gt;Carla. I hope that's not a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rich As Hell and Free!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-6384718315751943255?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/6384718315751943255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=6384718315751943255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6384718315751943255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6384718315751943255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/dear-ex-hubby-dear-ex-wife.html' title='Dear Ex- HUbby/ Dear Ex- Wife'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7299306385011248328</id><published>2007-06-28T15:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T15:03:41.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gender of Computer</title><content type='html'>A Spanish teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish,&lt;br /&gt;unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;''House'' for instance, is feminine: ''la casa.'' ''Pencil,'' however, is&lt;br /&gt;masculine: "el lapiz.''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A student asked, "What gender is 'computer'?''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups,&lt;br /&gt;male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether&lt;br /&gt;''computer'' should be a masculine or a feminine noun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The men's group decided that ''computer'' should definitely be of the&lt;br /&gt;feminine gender (''la computer''), because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is&lt;br /&gt;incomprehensible to everyone else;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible&lt;br /&gt;later&lt;br /&gt;retrieval; and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending&lt;br /&gt;half your&lt;br /&gt;paycheck on accessories for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(No chuckling... this gets better!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine&lt;br /&gt;(''el computer''), because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they&lt;br /&gt;ARE the&lt;br /&gt;problem; and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a&lt;br /&gt;little longer, you&lt;br /&gt;could have gotten a better model.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE WOMEN WON.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7299306385011248328?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7299306385011248328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7299306385011248328&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7299306385011248328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7299306385011248328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/gender-of-computer.html' title='Gender of Computer'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-6974823397244001817</id><published>2007-06-28T15:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T15:00:32.409-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino JOkes'/><title type='text'>Kung Marunong...(sana)</title><content type='html'>"Kung marunong ka lang magluto, 'di sana nakakatipid na tayo ng isanlibong piso isang buwan kaysa kumuha tayo ng tagaluto," reklamo ng asawang lalaki.&lt;br /&gt;"Kung marunong ka lang sa kama, 'di sana nakakatipid na tayo ng dalawanlibo isang buwan kaysa kumuha tayo ng driver," balik ng babae.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-6974823397244001817?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/6974823397244001817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=6974823397244001817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6974823397244001817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6974823397244001817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/kung-marunongsana.html' title='Kung Marunong...(sana)'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2055275320322064948</id><published>2007-06-28T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T14:59:40.993-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino JOkes'/><title type='text'>Castration</title><content type='html'>"Sigurado ka rin bang gusto mong magpa-castrate?"&lt;br /&gt;tanong ulit ng doktor sa isa pang guwapong pasyente.&lt;br /&gt;"Opo, napag-usapan na namin ito ng misis ko," sagot ng nakangiting guwapong lalaki.&lt;br /&gt;"Sigurado ka talaga ha?"&lt;br /&gt;"Opo, gusto ko ng castration!"&lt;br /&gt;Natuloy ang pagputol ng ari ng lalaki. Kinabukasan, ang misis naman ng lalaki ang tumawag sa ospital.&lt;br /&gt;"Love, okay ba ang circumcision?"&lt;br /&gt;Bumalikwas ang lalaki.&lt;br /&gt;"T*ngina, sabi ko na nga ba, iba ang dinig ko, eh!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2055275320322064948?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2055275320322064948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2055275320322064948&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2055275320322064948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2055275320322064948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/castration.html' title='Castration'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2258838743360693004</id><published>2007-06-28T14:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T14:54:39.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Test Mark</title><content type='html'>Three men who were lost in the forest were captured by&lt;br /&gt;cannibals. The cannibal king told the prisoners that they could&lt;br /&gt;live if they pass a trial. The first step of the trial was to go&lt;br /&gt;to the forest and get ten pieces of the same kind of fruit. So&lt;br /&gt;all three men went separate ways to gather fruits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one came back and said to the king, "I brought ten&lt;br /&gt;apples." The king then explained the trial to him. "You have to&lt;br /&gt;shove the fruits up your butt without any expression on your&lt;br /&gt;face or you'll be eaten."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first apple went in... but on the second one he winced out&lt;br /&gt;in pain, so he was killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one arrived and showed the king ten berries. When the&lt;br /&gt;king explained the trial to him he thought to himself that this&lt;br /&gt;should be easy. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8... and on the&lt;br /&gt;ninth berry he burst out in laughter and was killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first guy and the second guy met in heaven. The first one&lt;br /&gt;asked, "Why did you laugh, you almost got away with it?" The&lt;br /&gt;second one replied, "I couldn't help it, I saw the third guy&lt;br /&gt;coming with pineapples."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2258838743360693004?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2258838743360693004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2258838743360693004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2258838743360693004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2258838743360693004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/test-mark.html' title='The Test Mark'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8212212291639896569</id><published>2007-06-28T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T14:53:01.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner with the Girlfriend's Parents</title><content type='html'>A girl asks her boyfriend to come over Friday night and have&lt;br /&gt;dinner with her parents. Since this is such a big event, the&lt;br /&gt;girl announces to her boyfriend that after dinner, she would&lt;br /&gt;like to go out and make love for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the boy is ecstatic, but he has never had sex before, so&lt;br /&gt;he takes a trip to the pharmacist to get some condoms. The&lt;br /&gt;pharmacist helps the boy for about an hour. He tells the boy&lt;br /&gt;everything there is to know about condoms and sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the register, the pharmacist asks the boy how many condoms he'd like to buy, a 3-pack, 10-pack, or family pack. The boy insists on the family pack because he thinks he will be rather busy, it being his first time and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, the boy shows up at the girl's parents house and&lt;br /&gt;meets his girlfriend at the door. "Oh, I'm so excited for you to&lt;br /&gt;meet my parents, come on in!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy goes inside and is taken to the dinner table where the girl's parents are seated. The boy quickly offers to say grace and bows his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minute passes, and the boy is still deep in prayer, with his&lt;br /&gt;head down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 minutes pass, and still no movement from the boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after 20 minutes with his head down, the girlfriend&lt;br /&gt;leans over and whispers to the boyfriend, "I had no idea you&lt;br /&gt;were this religious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy turns, and whispers back, "I had no idea your father was a pharmacist."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8212212291639896569?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8212212291639896569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8212212291639896569&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8212212291639896569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8212212291639896569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/dinner-with-girlfriends-parents.html' title='Dinner with the Girlfriend&apos;s Parents'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7890869315985086618</id><published>2007-06-28T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T08:01:09.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex Brag</title><content type='html'>"Last night I made love to my wife four times," the Englishman brags, "and this morning she couldn't stop telling me how much she adored me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Last  night  I made love to my wife six times," the American replies, "and today  she said she could never love another man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Filipino remains silent, and the Englishman smugly asks, "How many times did you make love to your wife last night?" "Once," says the Filipino. "Only once?" the American snorts arrogantly. "And what did she say to you this morning?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "'Don't stop.'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7890869315985086618?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7890869315985086618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7890869315985086618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7890869315985086618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7890869315985086618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/sex-brag.html' title='Sex Brag'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3355085219761066946</id><published>2007-06-28T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:54:39.171-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino JOkes'/><title type='text'>Population policies of countries</title><content type='html'>China: Stop at 1 child.&lt;br /&gt;Singapore: Stop at 2 children&lt;br /&gt;Philippines: STOP AT 4 A.M.!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3355085219761066946?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3355085219761066946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3355085219761066946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3355085219761066946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3355085219761066946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/population-policies-of-countries.html' title='Population policies of countries'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8538640155306465708</id><published>2007-06-28T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:53:31.772-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino JOkes'/><title type='text'>Advice</title><content type='html'>A couple placed an ad: "Have 4 sons, need advice on how to get a daughter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Respondent:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yank: Keep trying!&lt;br /&gt;Briton: Change doctor!&lt;br /&gt;Aussie: Follow a special diet.&lt;br /&gt;Indian: Practice Yoga!&lt;br /&gt;Pinoy: LET ME TRY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8538640155306465708?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8538640155306465708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8538640155306465708&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8538640155306465708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8538640155306465708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/advice.html' title='Advice'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-9180202680389043611</id><published>2007-06-28T07:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:51:50.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>till death?</title><content type='html'>a married couple died in a car crash... in heaven, wife sees her husband w/ another girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wife: "what r u doing w/ that girl?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;husband: "huh! it was only 'til death do us part, right?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-9180202680389043611?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/9180202680389043611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=9180202680389043611&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/9180202680389043611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/9180202680389043611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/till-death.html' title='till death?'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1995951454245735790</id><published>2007-06-28T07:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:50:30.046-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino JOkes'/><title type='text'>Materialistic Pinoy</title><content type='html'>A Filipino man parked his brand-new BMW in front of his office building, ready to show it off to his Filipino colleagues. As he got out, a truck passed too close and completely tore off the door on the driver's side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The filipino immediately grabbed his cell phone, dialed the police, and within minutes a policeman pulled up. Before the policeman had a chance to ask any questions, the Filipino started screaming hysterically as some of his office colleagues reached the scene too. His BMW, which he had just picked up the day before, was now completely ruined and would never be the same, no matter what the body shop&lt;br /&gt;did to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Filipino finally calmed down from his ranting and raving, the policeman shook his head in disgust and disbelief. "I can't believe how materialistic you Filipino people are," he said. "You are so focused on your possessions that you don't notice anything else." "How can you say such a thing?" asked the Filipino. The policeman replied, "Don't you know that your left arm is missing from the elbow down? It must have been torn off when the truck hit you." "Oh my God!" screamed the Filipino. "My Rolex is gone!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1995951454245735790?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1995951454245735790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1995951454245735790&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1995951454245735790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1995951454245735790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/materialistic-pinoy.html' title='Materialistic Pinoy'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2223527155601245916</id><published>2007-06-28T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:49:13.584-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino JOkes'/><title type='text'>Lagi Away!</title><content type='html'>Husband: Parati na lang tayo away! Maghiwalay na lang tayo!&lt;br /&gt;Wife: Sige, maghati tayo ng mga anak!&lt;br /&gt;Husband: Akin ang mga guwapo at maganda!&lt;br /&gt;Wife: Sus! Pinili pa yung hindi kanya!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2223527155601245916?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2223527155601245916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2223527155601245916&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2223527155601245916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2223527155601245916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/lagi-away.html' title='Lagi Away!'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3417877828234633273</id><published>2007-06-28T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:46:02.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gay</title><content type='html'>Lying down on the psychiatrist's couch, the young man said to the doctor,&lt;br /&gt; "I wanted to see you because I think I am gay."......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh?" said the doctor. "And what makes you think that?" ......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my grandfather was gay, and so was my father." ......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't mean you're gay," said the psychiatrist. "We don't believe that homosexuality is hereditary." ......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not, but my two brothers are also gay." ......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really?" said the doctor, intrigued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's right. And so are my two uncles and my cousin, they're all gay!" .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That is weird," said the psychiatrist, "Tell me, is there anyone in your family who had sex with women?" .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, sir," the young man said. "My sister..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3417877828234633273?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3417877828234633273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3417877828234633273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3417877828234633273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3417877828234633273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/gay.html' title='Gay'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2386327077143504687</id><published>2007-06-28T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:44:03.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Man's Body?</title><content type='html'>which part of a man's body has no bone, full of veins, loves pumping and responsible for making LOVE................&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;answer:: HEART,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i like the way you think :;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2386327077143504687?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2386327077143504687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2386327077143504687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2386327077143504687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2386327077143504687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/mans-body.html' title='Man&apos;s Body?'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3311255257025724751</id><published>2007-06-26T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T23:46:10.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Concise Sentence</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;An English university creative writing class was asked to write a&lt;br /&gt; concise essay containing the following elements:&lt;br /&gt; 1) Religion 2) Royalty 3) Sex 4) Mystery&lt;br /&gt; The prize-winner wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "My God," said the Queen, "I'm pregnant. I wonder who the father&lt;br /&gt;is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3311255257025724751?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3311255257025724751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3311255257025724751&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3311255257025724751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3311255257025724751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/concise-sentence.html' title='Concise Sentence'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-899088174976480613</id><published>2007-06-26T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T23:25:48.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Company Policy : Effective Immediately</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Dress Code:&lt;/span&gt; It is advised that you come to work dressed according to your salary. If we see you wearing Prada shoes and carrying a Gucci bag, we assume you are doing well financially and therefore do not need a raise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you dress poorly, you need to learn to manage your money better, so that you may buy nicer clothes, and therefore you do not need a raise. If you dress just right, you are right where you need to be and therefore you do not need a raise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sick Days:&lt;/span&gt; We will no longer accept a doctor's statement as proof of sickness. If you are able to go to the doctor, you are able to come to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Personal Days: &lt;/span&gt;Each employee will receive 104 personal days a year. They are called Saturday &amp; Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bereavement Leave:&lt;/span&gt; This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing you can do for dead friends, relatives or co-workers. Every effort should be made to have non-employees attend to the arrangements. In rare cases where employee involvement is necessary, the funeral should be scheduled in the late afternoon. We will be glad to allow you to work through your lunch hour and subsequently leave one hour early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Toilet Use: &lt;/span&gt;Entirely too much time is being spent in the toilet. There is now a strict three-minute time limit in the stalls. At the end of three minutes, an alarm will sound, the toilet paper roll will retract, the stall door will open, and a picture will be taken. After your second offense, your picture will be posted on the company bulletin board under the "Chronic Offenders Category". Anyone caught smiling in the picture will be sanctioned under the company's mental health policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lunch Break:&lt;/span&gt; -Skinny people get 30 minutes for lunch, as they need to eat more, so that they can look healthy. -Normal size people get 15 minutes for lunch to get a balanced meal to maintain their average figure. -Chubby people get 5 minutes for lunch, because that's all the time needed to drink a Slim-Fast. _____________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your loyalty to our company. We are here to provide a positive employment experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-899088174976480613?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/899088174976480613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=899088174976480613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/899088174976480613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/899088174976480613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/company-policy-effective-immediately.html' title='Company Policy : Effective Immediately'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1271602111005898508</id><published>2007-06-26T23:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T23:22:48.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Imprisoned</title><content type='html'>"a man was sentenced just for changing a girl's size"&lt;br /&gt;really,why"&lt;br /&gt;he changed her sized from 36"-28"-36" to 36"-40" -36" !"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1271602111005898508?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1271602111005898508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1271602111005898508&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1271602111005898508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1271602111005898508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/imprisoned.html' title='Imprisoned'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7640145753885720806</id><published>2007-06-26T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T23:03:47.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Blond goes to the library</title><content type='html'>Once a blonde went to the library to get a book. A few days later, she returns and says to librarian at the counter, "This book was very boring. It had too many characters and too many numbers, so i would like to return it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The librarian says to the other librarian, "So here is the person who took our phone book!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7640145753885720806?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7640145753885720806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7640145753885720806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7640145753885720806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7640145753885720806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/blond-goes-to-library.html' title='A Blond goes to the library'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-476206696281881952</id><published>2007-06-26T22:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T22:15:28.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wedding Gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;She had a wedding to go to, and needed a wedding gift. Aha, thought she, I have that monogrammed silver tray from my wedding that I never use. I’ll just take it to a silversmith and have him remove my monogram and put hers on it. Voila, one cheap wedding present.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, she took it to the silversmith and asked him to remove her monogram and put the new one on. The silversmith took a look at the tray, shook his head and said, “Lady, this has been done so many times!”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-476206696281881952?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/476206696281881952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=476206696281881952&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/476206696281881952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/476206696281881952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/wedding-gift.html' title='The Wedding Gift'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-910530951161836074</id><published>2007-06-26T22:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T22:14:56.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go to Bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Cousin Elly is the world’s worst at getting instructions mixed up. When she got married her husband bought her one of those fancy, electric coffee makers. It had all the latest&lt;br /&gt;gadgets on it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Salesman Riley carefully explained how everything worked, how to plug it in, set the timer, go back to bed, and upon rising, the coffee is ready.”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;A few weeks later Elly was back in the store and Riley asked her how she liked the coffee maker. “Wonderful!” she replied, “However, there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why do I have to go to bed every time I want to make a pot of coffee?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-910530951161836074?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/910530951161836074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=910530951161836074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/910530951161836074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/910530951161836074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/go-to-bed.html' title='Go to Bed'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-633292096693685016</id><published>2007-06-26T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T22:13:14.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going to be A father</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;You looked troubled,” I told my friend, “what’s your problem?”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;He replied, “I’m going to be a father.”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“But that’s wonderful,” I said.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“What’s wonderful ? My wife doesn’t know about it yet.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-633292096693685016?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/633292096693685016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=633292096693685016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/633292096693685016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/633292096693685016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/going-to-be-father.html' title='Going to be A father'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2866218584318705128</id><published>2007-06-23T12:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T12:06:47.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Love Somebody....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Original Version:&lt;/span&gt; "If you love somebody, Set her free… If she comes back, she’s yours, If she doesn’t, she never was.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; The New Versions: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessimist: If you love somebody, Set her free… If she ever comes back, she’s yours, If she doesn’t, well, as expected, she never was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Optimist: If you love somebody, Set her free… Don’t worry, she will come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suspicious: If you love somebody, Set her free… If she ever comes back, ask her why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Impatient: If you love somebody, Set her free… If she doesn’t come back within some time limit, forget her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patient: If you love somebody, Set her free… If she doesn’t come back, continue to wait until she comes back…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playful: If you love somebody, Set her free…*If she comes back, and if you love her still, set her free again, repeat*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Animal-Rights Activist: If you love somebody, Set her free… In fact, all living creatures deserve to be free!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lawyers: If you love somebody, Set her free… Clause 1a of Paragraph 13a-1 in the second amendment of the Matrimonial Freedom Act clearly states that…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill Gates: If you love somebody, Set her free… If she comes back, I think we can charge her for re-installation fees and tell her that she’s also going to get an upgrade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Schwarzenegger’s Fan: If you love somebody, Set her free… SHE’LL BE BACK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over Possessive: If you love somebody don’t set her free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HR Specialist: If you love somebody set her free… By offering her VRS and other benefits, then outsource her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psychologist: If you love somebody set her free… If she comes back, her super ego is dominant; If she doesn’t come, back her id is supreme; If she doesn’t go, she must be crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somnabulist: If you love somebody set her free… If she comes back, it’s a nightmare; If she doesn’t, you must be dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finance Expert: If you love somebody set her free… If she comes back, its time to look for fresh loans; If she doesn’t, write her off as an asset gone bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marketing Expert: If you love somebody set her free… If she comes back, she has brand loyalty; If she doesn’t, reposition the brand in new markets. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2866218584318705128?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2866218584318705128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2866218584318705128&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2866218584318705128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2866218584318705128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/if-you-love-somebody.html' title='If You Love Somebody....'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-517080489487405373</id><published>2007-06-20T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T17:48:03.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;The sharing of marriage&lt;br /&gt;The old man placed order for one hamburger, French fries and a drink.&lt;br /&gt;He unwrapped the plain hamburger and carefully cut it in half, placing one half in front of his wife.&lt;br /&gt;He then carefully counted out the French fries, dividing them into two piles and neatly placed one pile in front of his wife.&lt;br /&gt;He took a sip of the drink, his wife took a sip and then set the cup down between them. As he began to eat his few bites of hamburger, the people around them were looking over and whispering.&lt;br /&gt;Obviously they were thinking, "That poor old couple - all they can afford is one meal for the two of them.."&lt;br /&gt;As the man began to eat his fries a young man came to the table and politely offered to buy another meal for the old couple. The old man said, they were just fine - they were used to sharing everything.&lt;br /&gt;People closer to the table noticed the little old lady hadn't eaten a bite. She sat there watching her husband eat and occasionally taking turns sipping the drink.&lt;br /&gt;Again, the young man came over and begged them to let him buy another meal for them. This time the old woman said "No, thank you, we are used to sharing everything."&lt;br /&gt;Finally, as the old man finished and was wiping his face neatly with the napkin, the young man again came over to the little old lady who had yet to eat a single bite of food and asked "What is it you are waiting for?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She answered .&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"THE TEETH."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-517080489487405373?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/517080489487405373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=517080489487405373&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/517080489487405373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/517080489487405373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/sharing.html' title='Sharing'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7674637153859219497</id><published>2007-06-20T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T17:45:19.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Fair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Teacher:If 1+1=2 and 2+2=4 then 4+4=?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student:Mam,it is not fair that u answer the easy ones and leave the hard ones for us!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7674637153859219497?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7674637153859219497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7674637153859219497&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7674637153859219497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7674637153859219497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/not-fair.html' title='Not Fair'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8402427120860335232</id><published>2007-06-20T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T17:39:16.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loyalty in marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;A woman's husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for&lt;br /&gt;several months, yet she had stayed by his bedside every single day. One&lt;br /&gt;day, he motioned for her to come nearer. As she sat by him, he whispered, eyes&lt;br /&gt;full of tears, "You know what? You have been with me all through the bad times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got fired, you were there to support me. When my business failed,&lt;br /&gt;you were there.. When I got shot, you were by my side. When we lost the&lt;br /&gt;house, you stayed right here. When my health started failing, you were&lt;br /&gt;still by my side.....You know what?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What dear?" she gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think you're bad luck, get the f#ck away from me." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8402427120860335232?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8402427120860335232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8402427120860335232&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8402427120860335232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8402427120860335232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/loyalty-in-marriage.html' title='Loyalty in marriage'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8205245127236858530</id><published>2007-06-20T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T17:37:37.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What does it tell?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Watson ponders for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe. What does it tell you, Holmes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holmes is silent for a moment. 'Watson, you idiot!" he says. "Someone has stolen our tent!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8205245127236858530?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8205245127236858530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8205245127236858530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8205245127236858530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8205245127236858530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-does-it-tell.html' title='What does it tell?'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8891760075076702736</id><published>2007-06-20T17:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T17:35:56.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sure?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt; A couple of New Jersey hunters are out in the woods when one of them falls to the ground. He doesn't seem to be breathing, his eyes are rolled back in his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls the emergency services. He gasps to the operator: "My friend is dead! What can I do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The operator, in a calm, soothing voice, says: "Just take it easy. I can help. First, let's make sure he's dead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a silence, then a shot is heard. The guy's voice comes back on the line. He says: "Okay, now what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8891760075076702736?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8891760075076702736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8891760075076702736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8891760075076702736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8891760075076702736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/06/sure.html' title='Sure?'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7075116815296954544</id><published>2007-05-16T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T21:44:49.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stable</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="mem"&gt;Jim and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital. One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool, Jim suddenly jumped into the deep end. He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there.  Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled Jim out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Head Nurse Director became aware of Edna's heroic act she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now considered her to be mentally stable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she went to tell Edna the news she said, "Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you're being discharged; since you  were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of another patient, I have concluded that your act displays sound mindedness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad news is that Jim, the patient you saved, hung himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he's dead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edna replied, "He didn't hang himself, I put him there to dry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How soon can I go home?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7075116815296954544?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7075116815296954544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7075116815296954544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7075116815296954544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7075116815296954544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/stable.html' title='Stable'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8975653079207856875</id><published>2007-05-16T21:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T21:37:54.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What did you steal?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="mem"&gt;This 80 year old woman was arrested for&lt;br /&gt;shoplifting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she went before the judge in Cincinnati,&lt;br /&gt;he asked her, "What did you steal?"&lt;br /&gt;She replied, "A can of peaches."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge then asked her why she had stolen&lt;br /&gt;the can of peaches and she replied that she was hungry.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge then asked her how many peaches&lt;br /&gt;were in the can. She replied 6.&lt;br /&gt;The judge then said, "I will then give you 6&lt;br /&gt;days in jail."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the judge could actually pronounce the&lt;br /&gt;punishment, the woman's husband spoke up and asked the judge if he could say something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge said, "What is it?"&lt;br /&gt;The husband said, "She also stole a can of&lt;br /&gt;peas."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8975653079207856875?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8975653079207856875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8975653079207856875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8975653079207856875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8975653079207856875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/what-did-you-steal.html' title='What did you steal?'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3126779627310358025</id><published>2007-05-16T21:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T21:23:37.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Longivity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="mem"&gt;Married men live longer than single men do, but married men are a lot more willing to die.  &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3126779627310358025?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3126779627310358025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3126779627310358025&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3126779627310358025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3126779627310358025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/longivity.html' title='Longivity'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3376042901392711617</id><published>2007-05-16T21:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T21:22:54.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="mem"&gt;To be happy with a man, you must understand him a lot and love him a little.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be happy with a woman, you must love her a lot and not try to understand her at all.&lt;b&gt;   &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3376042901392711617?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3376042901392711617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3376042901392711617&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3376042901392711617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3376042901392711617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/happiness.html' title='Happiness'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1286098582722259882</id><published>2007-05-16T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T21:22:13.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GENERAL EQUATIONS &amp; STATISTICS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="mem"&gt;A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.  &lt;br /&gt;A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.  &lt;br /&gt;A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.  ! &lt;br /&gt;A successful woman is one who can find such a man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1286098582722259882?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1286098582722259882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1286098582722259882&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1286098582722259882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1286098582722259882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/general-equations-statistics.html' title='GENERAL EQUATIONS &amp; STATISTICS'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-152124242902435580</id><published>2007-05-16T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T21:17:11.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Husband</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="mem"&gt;Several men are in the locker room of a golf club. A cell phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands free speaker-function and begins to talk. Everyone else in the room stops to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN:  "Hello"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "Honey, it's me. Are you at the club?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Yes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "I am at the mall now and found this beautiful leather coat. It's only $1,000. Is it OK if I buy it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Sure,...go ahead if you like it that much."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN:...."I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the new 2007&lt;br /&gt;models. I saw one I really liked"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "How much?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN:  "$90,000"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "OK, but for that price I want it with all the options"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "Great! Oh, and one more thing ...The  house I wanted last year is back on the market. They're asking  $950,000"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer of $900,000. They will probably take it. If not, we can go the extra 50 thousand. If it's&lt;br /&gt;really a pretty good  price."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "OK. I'll see you later! I love you so  much!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Bye! I love you, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man hangs up. The other men in the locker room are staring at him in astonishment, mouths agape.....He smiles and asks: "Anyone know who&lt;br /&gt;this phone belongs to?..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-152124242902435580?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/152124242902435580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=152124242902435580&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/152124242902435580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/152124242902435580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/perfect-husband.html' title='The Perfect Husband'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1044692554307002285</id><published>2007-05-10T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T22:14:15.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like most</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;A wife asked her husband: "What do you like most in me - my pretty face or my sexy body?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at her from head to toe and replied: "I like your sense of humour."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1044692554307002285?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1044692554307002285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1044692554307002285&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1044692554307002285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1044692554307002285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/like-most.html' title='Like most'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7491232952829011094</id><published>2007-05-10T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T22:07:22.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Problem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wife: &lt;/span&gt;You always carry my photo in your handbag to the office, why?&lt;br /&gt;Hubby: When there is a problem, no matter how impossible, I look at your picture and the problem disappears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Wife:&lt;/span&gt; You see, how miraculous and powerful I am for you?&lt;br /&gt;Hubby: Yes, I see your picture and say to myself, "What other problem can there be greater than this one"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7491232952829011094?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7491232952829011094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7491232952829011094&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7491232952829011094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7491232952829011094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/problem.html' title='Problem'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3100355490703562826</id><published>2007-05-10T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T22:03:23.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Man to wife on wedding night: "Are you sure I'm the first man you are sleeping with?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife replied: "Of course honey, I stayed awake with all the others!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3100355490703562826?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3100355490703562826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3100355490703562826&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3100355490703562826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3100355490703562826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/wedding-night.html' title='Wedding Night'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5826457496779089411</id><published>2007-05-10T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T22:00:01.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Report Card</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Father to son after exam: "Let me see your report card."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "My friend just borrowed it. He wants to scare his parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5826457496779089411?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5826457496779089411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5826457496779089411&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5826457496779089411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5826457496779089411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/report-card.html' title='Report Card'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5374901939037339107</id><published>2007-05-10T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:59:16.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Share</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Girl: When we get married, I want to share all your worries, troubles and lighten your burden.&lt;br /&gt;Boy: It's very kind of you, darling, But I don't have any worries or troubles.&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Well that's because we aren't married yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5374901939037339107?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5374901939037339107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5374901939037339107&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5374901939037339107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5374901939037339107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/share.html' title='Share'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7085583356394021659</id><published>2007-05-10T21:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:52:49.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Son: Mom, when I was on the bus with Dad this morning, he told me to five up my seat to a lady.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Well, you have done the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;Son: But mom, I was sitting on daddy's lap!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7085583356394021659?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7085583356394021659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7085583356394021659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7085583356394021659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7085583356394021659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/sit.html' title='Sit'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-6459689906098761242</id><published>2007-05-10T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:47:21.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Airport Mistletoe</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;It was the beginning of December. The trip had gone reasonably well, and he was ready to go back. The airport on the other hand had turned a tacky red and green, and loudspeakers blared annoying elevator renditions of cherished Christmas carols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being someone who took Christmas very seriously, and being slightly tired, he was not in a particularly good mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to check in his luggage (which, for some reason, had become one suitcase with entirely new clothes), he saw hanging mistletoe. Not real mistletoe, but very cheap plastic with red paint on some of the rounder parts and green paint on some of the flatter and "pointier" parts, that could be taken for mistletoe only in a very Picasso sort of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a considerable degree of irritation and nowhere else to vent it, he said to the lady attendant, "Even if I were not married, I would not want to kiss you under such a ghastly mockery of mistletoe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, look more closely at where the mistletoe is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, I see that it's above the luggage scale, which is the place you'd have to step forward for a kiss."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not why it's there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, I give up. Why is it there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's there so you can kiss your luggage goodbye."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-6459689906098761242?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/6459689906098761242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=6459689906098761242&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6459689906098761242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6459689906098761242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/airport-mistletoe.html' title='Airport Mistletoe'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-4777497566643635304</id><published>2007-05-10T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:45:04.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Polish Air Lines flight 113</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Polish Air Lines flight 113 was descending for a landing at an airport they had never been to before. The pilot looked out the windshield and suddenly exclaimed to the copilot, "Holy cow! Look how short the runway is! I`ve never seen one that short!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The copilot looked out the windshield. "Wow! you`re right! That`s incredible! Are you sure we can make it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well we better, were almost out of fuel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the captain got on the intercom and notified the passengers to put their heads between their knees and prepare for an emergency landing. Then he set the flaps to full down and slowed the plane to just over stall speed. The big jumbo jet came screaming in, on the&lt;br /&gt;ragged edge of control. The pilot`s hands were sweating, the copilot was praying. They touched down and came screeching to a halt JUST before the edge of the runway, the tires smoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHEW! That was CLOSE!" yelled the captain."That runway was SHORT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah!" said the copilot,"and WIDE too!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-4777497566643635304?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/4777497566643635304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=4777497566643635304&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4777497566643635304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4777497566643635304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/polish-air-lines-flight-113.html' title='Polish Air Lines flight 113'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-684105680149298977</id><published>2007-05-07T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:48:03.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde goes flying</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;A blonde went to a flight school insisting that she wanted to learn to fly. As all the planes were currently in use, the owner agreed to instruct her by radio on how to pilot the solo helicopter. He took her out, showed her how to start it and gave her the basics, and sent her on her way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she climbed 1000 feet, she radioed in. "I'm doing great! I love it! The view is so beautiful, and I'm starting to get the hang of this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 2000 feet, she radioed again, saying how easy it was to fly. The instructor watched her climb over 3000 feet, and was beginning to worry that she hadn't radioed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later, he watched in horror as she crashed about half a mile away. He ran over and pulled her from the wreckage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he asked what happened, she said, "I don't know! Everything was going fine, but as I got higher, I was starting to get cold. I can barely remember anything after I turned off the big fan!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-684105680149298977?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/684105680149298977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=684105680149298977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/684105680149298977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/684105680149298977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/blonde-goes-flying.html' title='Blonde goes flying'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3745624753088977143</id><published>2007-05-07T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T20:50:06.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wife</title><content type='html'>Husband asks , "Do u know the meaning of WIFE??&lt;br /&gt;"Without Information Fighting Everytime" Wife replies,"&lt;br /&gt;No, It means ,"With Idiot For Ever !!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3745624753088977143?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3745624753088977143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3745624753088977143&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3745624753088977143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3745624753088977143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/wife.html' title='Wife'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-9083947253501432768</id><published>2007-05-04T15:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:16:12.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Airport Mix-Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;During the 'rush hour' at Houston's Hobby Airport, a flight was delayed due to a mechanical problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since they needed the gate for another flight, the aircraft was backed away from the gate while the maintenance crew worked on it. The passengers were then told the new gate number, which was some distance away. Everyone moved to the new gate, only to find a third gate had been designated for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some further shuffling, everyone got on board, and as they were settling in, the flight attendant made the standard announcement, 'We apologise for the inconvenience of this last-minute gate change. This flight is going to Washington, D.C. If your destination is not Washington, D.C., then you should 'deplane' at this time.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very confused-looking and red-faced pilot emerged from the cockpit, carrying his bags. 'Sorry,' he said, wrong plane.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-9083947253501432768?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/9083947253501432768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=9083947253501432768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/9083947253501432768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/9083947253501432768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/airport-mix-up.html' title='Airport Mix-Up'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2305661190350582682</id><published>2007-05-03T18:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T20:49:00.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Period</title><content type='html'>Teacher: u know the importance of period?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid: Ya, once my sister said she has missed one, my mom fainted, dad got heart attack &amp;amp; our driver ran away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2305661190350582682?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2305661190350582682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2305661190350582682&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2305661190350582682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2305661190350582682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/period.html' title='Period'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8896022798232545875</id><published>2007-05-02T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T17:31:09.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things aren't always as they appear</title><content type='html'>A man was flying from Seattle to San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;Unexpectedly, the plane stopped in Sacramento along the way. The flight attendant explained that there would be a delay, and if the passengers wanted to get off the aircraft, the plane would re-board in 50 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody got off the plane except one gentleman who was blind.&lt;br /&gt;A man had noticed him as he walked by and could tell the gentleman was blind because his Seeing Eye dog lay quietly underneath the seats in front of him throughout the entire flight.&lt;br /&gt;He could also tell he had flown this very flight before because the pilot approached him, and calling him by name, said, "Keith, we're in Sacramento for almost an hour. Would you like to get off and stretch your legs?"The blind man replied, "No thanks, but maybe my dog would like to stretch his legs."Picture this: All the people in the gate area came to a complete standstill when they looked up and saw the pilot walk off the plane with a Seeing Eye dog!&lt;br /&gt;The pilot was even wearing sunglasses. People scattered. They not only tried to change planes, but they were trying to change airlines!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8896022798232545875?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8896022798232545875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8896022798232545875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8896022798232545875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8896022798232545875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/things-arent-always-as-they-appear.html' title='Things aren&apos;t always as they appear'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8902960904812346213</id><published>2007-05-02T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T17:21:01.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Kick Rules</title><content type='html'>A big city lawyer went duck hunting in rural Alabama. He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer’s field on the other side of a fence. As the lawyer climbed over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing.&lt;br /&gt;The litigator responded, “I shot a duck and it fell in this field and now I’m going to retrieve it.”&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer replied, “This is my property, and you are not coming over here.”&lt;br /&gt;The indignant lawyer said, “I am one of the best trial attorneys in the United States and if you don’t let me get that duck, I’ll sue you and take everything you own.&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said, “Apparently, you don’t know how we settle disputes in the country. We settle small disagreements like this with the “Three Kick Rule”.&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer asked, “What is the ‘Three Kick Rule’?”&lt;br /&gt;The Farmer replied, “Well, because the dispute occurs on my land, first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on back and forth until someone gives up.”&lt;br /&gt;The attorney quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old codger. After all, how hard could he kick, So, he agreed to abide by the local custom.&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the attorney. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy work boot into the lawyer’s groin and dropped him to his knees. His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer’s last meal gushing from his mouth. The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer’s third kick to his rear end sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie.&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer summoned every bit of his will and managed to get onto feet. Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, “Okay, old man,.. Now it’s my turn.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said, “Naw, I give up. You can have the duck…!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8902960904812346213?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8902960904812346213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8902960904812346213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8902960904812346213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8902960904812346213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/05/three-kick-rules.html' title='Three Kick Rules'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1445995298469667785</id><published>2007-03-16T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T14:14:16.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Physical</title><content type='html'>70-year-old George went for this annual physical. He told the doctor that he felt fine, but often had to go to the bathroom during the night. Then he said, "But you know Doc, i'm blessed. God knows my eyesight is going, so he puts on the light when i pee, and turns if off when i'm done!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little later in the day, Dr. Smith called George's wife and said, "Your husband's test results were fine, but he said something strange that has been bugging me. He claims that God turns the light on and off for him when uses the bathroom at night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thelma exclaimed, "that old fool! He's been peeing in the refrigerator Again!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1445995298469667785?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1445995298469667785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1445995298469667785&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1445995298469667785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1445995298469667785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/physical.html' title='Physical'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8332661705423091407</id><published>2007-03-15T15:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T15:25:28.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A man's wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Dear LORD, I go to work everyday and put in 8 hours while my wife merely stays at home. I want her to know what I go through, so please create a trade in our bodies."God in his infinite wisdom, granted the man's wish.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, sure enough, the man awoke as a woman. He arose, cooked breakfast for his mate, awakened the kids, set out their school clothes, fed them breakfast, packed their lunches, drove them to school, came home and picked up the dry cleaning, took it to the cleaners and stopped at the bank to draw out money to pay the power company and the phone bill. Went grocery shopping, came home put away the groceries.&lt;br /&gt;He cleaned out the litter box and bathed the dog. Then it was already 1p.m. and he hurried to make the beds, do the laundry, vacuum, dust, and sweep and mop teh kitchen floor. Ran to school to pick up the kids and got into an argument with them on the way home. Set out cookies and milk.&lt;br /&gt;At 4:30p.m. he started to prepare dinner, while doing the laundry and bathing the kids. After dinner he cleaned the kitchen. About 9p.m. got ready for bed and was expected to make love although he was exhausted he didn't complain.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning he got on his knees and said "LORD" I don't know what I was thinking, I was so wrong to envy my wife. Please, oh please let us change back."My Son, I feel you have learned your lesson and will change you back but you will have to wait 9 months. You got pregnant last night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8332661705423091407?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8332661705423091407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8332661705423091407&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8332661705423091407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8332661705423091407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/mans-wish.html' title='A man&apos;s wish'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2563107780892552676</id><published>2007-03-15T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T15:14:14.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Newly Weds</title><content type='html'>On their wedding night, the very naive, blonde virgin bride slipped into a sexy but sweet nightie, and, with great anticipation, climbed into bed, only to find her new husband had settled down on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she asked why he was not ready to make love with her, he replied, "Because, Honey, it's Lent."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost in tears, she said, "Well that's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!&lt;br /&gt;To who did you lend it and for how long?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2563107780892552676?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2563107780892552676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2563107780892552676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2563107780892552676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2563107780892552676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/newly-weds.html' title='Newly Weds'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2552625095074297943</id><published>2007-03-15T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T15:08:12.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A real ball buster</title><content type='html'>"Doc," says Steve, "I want to be castrated."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What on earth for?" asks the doctor in amazement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's something I've been thinking about for a long time and I want to have it done" replies Steve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But have you thought it through properly?" asks the doctor, "It's a very serious operation and once it's done, there's no going back. It will change your life forever!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm aware of that and you're not going to change my mind -- either you book me in to be castrated or I'll simply go to another doctor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, OK.", says the doctor, "But it's against my better judgment!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Steve has his operation, and the next day he is up and walking very slowly, legs apart, down the hospital corridor with his drip stand. Heading towards him is another patient, who is walking exactly the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi there," says Steve,"It looks as if you've just had the same operation as me.""Well," said the patient, "I finally decided after 37 years of life that I would like to be circumcised."Steve stared at him in horror and screamed, "Crap! THAT'S the word!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2552625095074297943?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2552625095074297943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2552625095074297943&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2552625095074297943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2552625095074297943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/real-ball-buster.html' title='A real ball buster'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1656375607294364089</id><published>2007-03-15T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T15:05:30.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Las Vegas</title><content type='html'>A man goes to vegas and he is going to meet some of his friends there for a business meeting.&lt;br /&gt;During his first night, he won a bunch of money at the casino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked the bar tender if he knew of any hookers in town. The bartender gives him this phone number and tells him (you`ve got to call this girl she is really hot). So he called her and told her to meet him in front of this casino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender was right she is hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker:  what can i do for you tonight&lt;br /&gt;Guy: I would like a blow job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker: Ok.. but that will be five hundred dollars.&lt;br /&gt;Guy: FIVE hundred dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker: Before you say anything do you see that cadalac parked right there? i payed cash for that because i give the best head in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy : ok..( paid her five hundred dollars)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night he won more money at the casino and calls the hooker back up. She meets him in front of the same casino and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker:  what can i do for you tonight?&lt;br /&gt;Guy:  i just want to fuck you in the ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker:  ok that will be fifteen hundred dollars&lt;br /&gt;Guy: FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker: before you say any thing,  do you see that pent house up there? i payed cash for that because ive got the best ass in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the guy pays her fifteen hundred dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third and final night the guy wins a lot of money at this casino like trippled all of his money feeling real good he calls the hooker up and she meets him in front of the casino  and..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker:  "what can i do for you tonight?"&lt;br /&gt;Guy:  you know im feeling real good tonight and i would like some pussy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker: says ok that will be five thousand dollars&lt;br /&gt;Guy: ( stunningly) FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker:  says before you say anything do you see that casino over there?&lt;br /&gt;Guy: says dont tell me you own the casino too ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooker says ...."NO but if i had a pussy,  i would. hehehe!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1656375607294364089?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1656375607294364089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1656375607294364089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1656375607294364089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1656375607294364089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/las-vegas.html' title='Las Vegas'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5205033689228927712</id><published>2007-03-15T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T14:52:07.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marriage Counseling</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;A husband and wife came for counseling after 15 years of marriage. When&lt;br /&gt;asked what the problem was, the wife went into a passionate, painful&lt;br /&gt;tirade listing every problem they had ever had in the 15 years they had&lt;br /&gt;been married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went on and on and on: neglect, lack of intimacy, emptiness,&lt;br /&gt;loneliness, feeling unloved and unlovable, an entire laundry list of&lt;br /&gt;un-met needs she had endured over the course of their marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after allowing this to go on for a sufficient length of time,&lt;br /&gt;the therapist got up, walked around the desk and, after asking the wife&lt;br /&gt;to stand, embraced, and kissed her passionately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman shut up and quietly sat down as though in a daze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The therapist turned to the husband and said, "This is what your wife&lt;br /&gt;needs at least three times a week. Can you do this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband thought for a moment and replied, "Well, I can drop her&lt;br /&gt;off here on Mondays and Wednesdays, but on Fridays, I go fishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5205033689228927712?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5205033689228927712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5205033689228927712&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5205033689228927712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5205033689228927712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/marriage-counseling.html' title='Marriage Counseling'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1186614845274164147</id><published>2007-03-15T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T14:46:18.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hot Shot</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;A young business man had just started his own firm. He had just rented a beautiful office and had it furnished with antiques.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He saw a man come into the outer office. Wishing to appear the hot shot, the businessman picked up the phone and started to pretend he had a big deal working. He threw huge figures around and made giant commitments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally he hung up and asked the visitor, "Can i help you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;The man answered,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;''Yeah, i've come to activate your phone lines."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQPostPhoto"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQPostPhotoText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="ratings" style="width: 15%;" valign="bottom"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbRatings"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="ratings" align="right"&gt;&lt;div id="ron_Nv4CJ2%2bgU2EnT%2bU0JKeG5lP4%2bc8%2frER%2bPpHknTCLWOA%3d"&gt;&lt;span title="Rate this discussion positive."&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylot.com/w/discussions/884925.aspx#up_Nv4CJ2%2bgU2EnT%2bU0JKeG5lP4%2bc8%2frER%2bPpHknTCLWOA%3d" onclick="doRate('Nv4CJ2%2bgU2EnT%2bU0JKeG5vhMVCoQC4tMM8EfZT4nNdU%3d', 'Nv4CJ2%2bgU2EnT%2bU0JKeG5lP4%2bc8%2frER%2bPpHknTCLWOA%3d');"&gt;+&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span title="Rate this discussion negative."&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylot.com/w/discussions/884925.aspx#down_Nv4CJ2%2bgU2EnT%2bU0JKeG5lP4%2bc8%2frER%2bPpHknTCLWOA%3d" onclick="doRate('Nv4CJ2%2bgU2EnT%2bU0JKeG5rRYBmz9epzUnZ1aDp02rbw%3d', 'Nv4CJ2%2bgU2EnT%2bU0JKeG5lP4%2bc8%2frER%2bPpHknTCLWOA%3d');"&gt;-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span title="Report abuse."&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylot.com/nr/reportabuse.aspx?resId=884925&amp;amp;resType=3"&gt;!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td height="10"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1186614845274164147?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1186614845274164147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1186614845274164147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1186614845274164147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1186614845274164147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/hot-shot.html' title='The Hot Shot'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5598227977447378098</id><published>2007-03-15T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T14:35:52.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lawyers Negotiating</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;Two lawyers were walking along, negotiating a case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look," said one to the other, "let's be honest with each other."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, you first," replied the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;( Silence........)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;(That was the end of the discussion.)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQPostPhoto"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQPostPhotoText"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5598227977447378098?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5598227977447378098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5598227977447378098&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5598227977447378098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5598227977447378098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/lawyers-negotiating.html' title='Lawyers Negotiating'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5466899361139857641</id><published>2007-03-13T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T08:18:13.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 things NOT to say to parents when picking up a date.</title><content type='html'>10. "Sorry I'm a little late. I had to stop by the drugstore."&lt;br /&gt;9. "Show me how you used to spank her."&lt;br /&gt;8. "Please come inside? Wow, you sound just like your daughter."&lt;br /&gt;7. "Do you think she would put out if I told her that I loved her?"&lt;br /&gt;6. "I just got my license today."&lt;br /&gt;5. "I believe being sexually active since I was 12 has helped me mature."&lt;br /&gt;4. "Five bucks says she's a D-cup."&lt;br /&gt;3. "Hey do you have an empty pop can and some matches?"&lt;br /&gt;2. "Hi. I'm Robert, but my friends call me 'Back Door Bob.'"&lt;br /&gt;1. "So, does your wife just lay there during sex too?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5466899361139857641?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5466899361139857641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5466899361139857641&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5466899361139857641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5466899361139857641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/top-10-things-not-to-say-to-parents.html' title='Top 10 things NOT to say to parents when picking up a date.'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-6839462819135590393</id><published>2007-03-13T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T08:16:16.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets Behind The Kids</title><content type='html'>Every time Gerry and Zeny made love, Gerry insisted on turning the lights off. And so, after twenty years, Zeny decided to turn on the lights and found her husband holding a vibrator.&lt;br /&gt;ZENY: You impotent bastard! How could you have lied to me all these years??&lt;br /&gt;Gerry Looks her straight in the eyes and calmly said: " I can explain the vibrator but you have to explain the KIDS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-6839462819135590393?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/6839462819135590393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=6839462819135590393&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6839462819135590393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/6839462819135590393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/secrets-behind-kids.html' title='Secrets Behind The Kids'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-7156931479643591106</id><published>2007-03-12T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T14:15:23.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Morning Sex</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;On hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Susan went straight to her grandparent's house to visit her 95-year-old grandmother and comfort her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&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;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt; Horrified, Susan told her grandmother that two people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt; "Oh no, my dear," replied granny. "Many years ago, realising 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;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&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;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-7156931479643591106?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/7156931479643591106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=7156931479643591106&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7156931479643591106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/7156931479643591106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/sunday-morning-sex.html' title='Sunday Morning Sex'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-729271562769466994</id><published>2007-03-12T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T07:14:16.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AtTthe Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt;One day an out of work mime is visiting the zoo and attempts to earn some money as a street performer. As soon as he starts to draw a crowd, a zoo keeper grabs him and drags him into his office. The zoo keeper explains to the mime that the zoo's most popular attraction, a gorilla, has died suddenly and the keeper fears that attendance at the zoo will fall off. He offers the mime a job to dress up as the gorilla until they can get another one. The mime accepts.&lt;br /&gt;So the next morning the mime puts on the gorilla suit and enters the cage before the crowd comes. He discovers that it's a great job. He can sleep all he wants, play and make fun of people and he draws bigger crowds than he ever did as a mime. However, eventually the crowds tire of him and he tires of just swinging on tires. He begins to notice that the people are paying more attention to the lion in the cage next to his. Not wanting to lose the attention of his audience, he climbs to the top of his cage, crawls across a partition, and dangles from the top to the lion's cage. Of course, this makes the lion furious, but the crowd loves it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day the zoo keeper comes and gives the mime a raise for being such a good attraction. Well, this goes on for some time, the mime keeps taunting the lion, the crowds grow larger, and his salary keeps going up. Then one terrible day when he is dangling over the furious lion he slips and falls. The mime is terrified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lion gathers itself and prepares to pounce. The mime is so scared that he begins to run round and round the cage with the lion close behind. Finally, the mime starts screaming and yelling, "Help, Help me!", but the lion is quick and pounces. The mime soon finds himself flat on his back looking up at the angry lion and the lion says, "Shut up you idiot! Do you want to get us both fired?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-729271562769466994?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/729271562769466994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=729271562769466994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/729271562769466994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/729271562769466994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/attthe-zoo.html' title='AtTthe Zoo'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8378353642689850800</id><published>2007-03-10T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T18:09:11.558-08:00</updated><title type='text'>But Doctor, You said...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana,Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Below are some actual quotes by doctors doing actual dictation on patients' records (with some comments by me). Could YOUR doctor sound like these? This is really scary! If I have to go to the emergency room and hear my doctor dictating like some of these, I'm going to RUN!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patient denies pregnancy. (And I certainly think he should.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She does a lot of work around the house. It is kind of localized in the left buttock area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was not to lift or drive his car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last 48 hours, the patient was carrying a refrigerator up the stairs. (L-O-O-ONG stairs.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An ultrasound was ordered on admission of the left foot. (and the patient came back to visit his foot almost evey day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father is currently deceased. (So he may come back???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is a small-appearing elderly female. (She only appears small; she's actually 6 foot 2.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patient has no temperature today. (Really?? The planet Pluto has a temperature!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patient has a questionable cousin with colitis. (Yeah, I have a questionable cousin, too.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She slid on some oil and her feet flew out from under her, landing on her left arm and back. (Try to picture that!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was a restrained driver in the back seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bulldog clamp was removed from the mammary artery and allowed to run for about a minute. (Very active clamp!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patient is confused, but the family states that she has been intermittently confused for some time and particularly about...she has been intermittently, intermittently been increasingly confused over the last 3 months. (WHO is confused??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excess debris was removed. (And the necessary debris remained.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He feels just as tired when he goes to bed as when he gets up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She complains of no hearing loss. (Well, I don't mind not having a hearing loss.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Mothers, you will love this one.) The patient takes care of four children, does not work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has one brother and two half-female siblings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8378353642689850800?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8378353642689850800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8378353642689850800&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8378353642689850800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8378353642689850800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/but-doctor-you-said.html' title='But Doctor, You said...'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5378822829807408365</id><published>2007-03-10T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T18:07:00.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Honeymoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana,Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A newlywed couple were spending their honeymoon in a remote log cabin resort way up the mountains. They had registered on Saturday and had not been seen for five days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly couple ran the resort, and they were getting concerned about the welfare of these newlyweds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man decided to go and see if they were all right. He knocked on the door of the cabin and a weak voice from inside answered. The old man asked if they were OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, we're fine. We're living on the fruits of love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man replied, "I thought so ... would you mind not throwing the peelings out the window? They're choking the shit out of my ducks!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5378822829807408365?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5378822829807408365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5378822829807408365&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5378822829807408365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5378822829807408365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/honeymoon.html' title='The Honeymoon'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-9146062124777678864</id><published>2007-03-10T18:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T18:02:36.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>His Last Wishes</title><content type='html'>Sometime after Sidney died, his widow, Tillie, was finally able to speak about what a thoughtful and wonderful man her late husband had been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sidney thought of everything," she told them. "Just before he died, Sidney called me to his bedside. He handed me three envelopes. 'Tillie,' he told me, 'I have put all my last wishes in these three envelopes. After I am dead, please open them and do exactly as I have instructed. Then, I can rest in peace'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What was in the envelopes?" her friends asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The first envelope contained $5,000 with a note, 'Please use this money to buy a nice casket.' So I bought a beautiful mahogany casket with such a comfortable lining that I know Sidney is resting very comfortably."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The second envelope contained $10,000 with a note, 'Please use this for anice funeral 'I arranged Sidney a very dignified funeral and bought all his favorite foods for everyone attending."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And the third envelope?" asked her friends.&lt;br /&gt;"The third envelope contained $25,000 with a note, 'Please use this to buy a nice stone.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding her hand in the air, Tillie said...&lt;br /&gt;"So, do you like my stone?" showing off her 10 carat diamond ring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-9146062124777678864?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/9146062124777678864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=9146062124777678864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/9146062124777678864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/9146062124777678864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/his-last-wishes.html' title='His Last Wishes'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-5300222645001033184</id><published>2007-03-10T17:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T18:10:27.215-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Female hormones in beer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman,helvetica;"&gt;Yesterday, scientists in the United States revealed that beer contains small traces of female hormones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To prove their theory, they fed one hundred men twelve pints of beer and observed that 100% of them started talking nonsense and couldn't drive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-5300222645001033184?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/5300222645001033184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=5300222645001033184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5300222645001033184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/5300222645001033184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/female-hormones-in-beer.html' title='Female hormones in beer'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-699140543098395944</id><published>2007-03-05T07:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T07:07:36.712-08:00</updated><title type='text'>75th anniversary</title><content type='html'>A very elderly couple is having an elegant dinner to celebrate their 75th wedding anniversary. The old man leans forward and says softly to his wife, "Dear, there is something that I must ask you. It has always bothered me that our tenth child never quite looked like the rest of our children. Now I want to assure you that these 75 years have been the most wonderful experience I could have ever hoped for, and your answer cannot take that all that away. But, I must know, did he have a different father?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife drops her head, unable to look her husband in the eye, she paused for moment and then confessed. "Yes. Yes he did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man is very shaken, the reality of what his wife was admitting hit him harder than he had expected. With a tear in his eye he asks, "Who? Who was he? Who was the father?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, the old woman drops her head, saying nothing at first as she tried to muster the courage to tell the truth to her husband. Then, finally, she says: "You."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-699140543098395944?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/699140543098395944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=699140543098395944&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/699140543098395944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/699140543098395944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/75th-anniversary.html' title='75th anniversary'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-1221380387487414419</id><published>2007-03-05T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T07:01:45.642-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mental health diagnoses</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_cphMainContent_lbQuestion"&gt; The psychology instructor had just finished a lecture on mental health and was giving an oral test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking specifically about manic depression, she asked, "How would you diagnose a patient who walks back and forth screaming at the top of his lungs one minute, then sits in a chair weeping uncontrollably the next?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young man in the rear raised his hand and answered, "A basketball coach?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 100%;" class="description"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-1221380387487414419?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/1221380387487414419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=1221380387487414419&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1221380387487414419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/1221380387487414419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/mental-health-diagnoses.html' title='mental health diagnoses'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2560047956133694949</id><published>2007-03-02T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T18:14:10.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freshmen versus seniors</title><content type='html'>Freshman: Is never in bed past noon.&lt;br /&gt;Senior: Is never out of bed before noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freshman: Reads the syllabus to find out what classes he can cut.&lt;br /&gt;Senior: Reads the syllabus to find out what classes he needs to attend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freshman: Would walk ten miles to get to class.&lt;br /&gt;Senior: Drives to class if it's more than three blocks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freshman: Memorizes the course material to get a good grade.&lt;br /&gt;Senior: Memorizes the professor's habits to get a good grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freshman: Shows up at a morning exam clean, perky, and fed.&lt;br /&gt;Senior: Shows up at a morning exam in sweats with a cap on and a box of pop tarts in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freshman: Is proud of his A+ on Calculus I midterm&lt;br /&gt;Senior: Is proud of not quite failing his Complex Analysis midterm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2560047956133694949?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2560047956133694949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2560047956133694949&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2560047956133694949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2560047956133694949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/freshmen-versus-seniors.html' title='Freshmen versus seniors'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-8711389855407146179</id><published>2007-03-02T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T18:13:08.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>newly wed</title><content type='html'>A newly wed girl was being welcomed at the husband's home in a traditional manner. She was asked to give a little speech. She addressed as follows: "My dear family members, I thank you for welcoming me in my new home and family", she said "Firstly, with my presence I would not want to create any inconveniences by my being here. I mean that I don't want you all to change your way of life, your routine." "What do you mean my child?" asked the patriarch of the family. What I mean dad is: Those who used to wash dishes must carry on washing them. Those who used to do the laundry must carry on doing it. Those who cooked shouldn't stop on my account. Those who used to clean should clean. As for me, I am here just to control your son!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-8711389855407146179?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/8711389855407146179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=8711389855407146179&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8711389855407146179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/8711389855407146179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/newly-wed.html' title='newly wed'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-3480816391831293595</id><published>2007-03-02T10:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T10:25:43.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>policeman</title><content type='html'>A salesman, tired of his job, gave it up to become a policeman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several months later, a friend asked him how he liked his new role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," he replied, "the pay is good and the hours aren't bad, but what I like the best is that the customer is always wrong."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-3480816391831293595?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/3480816391831293595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=3480816391831293595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3480816391831293595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/3480816391831293595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/policeman.html' title='policeman'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-483163426789327133</id><published>2007-03-02T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T10:24:48.358-08:00</updated><title type='text'>devotion</title><content type='html'>Dave went on a business trip for a few days. When he returned, his wife reported that the dog really missed him. "She spent every night at the front door, waiting for you to come home,"she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What an example of devotion," Dave replied, "I wonder if you'd be that concerned about me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey," she replied, "if you were gone overnight, and i didn't know where you were, you can be sure I'd waiting for you at the front door."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-483163426789327133?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/483163426789327133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=483163426789327133&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/483163426789327133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/483163426789327133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/devotion.html' title='devotion'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-2301715129667762941</id><published>2007-03-02T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T10:06:12.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>appendectomy</title><content type='html'>Five year old Becky answered the door when the Census taker came by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told the Census taker that her daddy was a doctor and wasn't home, because he was performing an appendectomy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My", said the Census taker, "that sure is a big word for a little girl. Do you know what it means?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure. Fifteen hundred bucks, and that doesn't even include the anaesthesiologist."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-2301715129667762941?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/2301715129667762941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=2301715129667762941&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2301715129667762941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/2301715129667762941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/03/appendectomy.html' title='appendectomy'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38435451.post-4079521621554314968</id><published>2007-02-27T05:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T05:05:49.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bet</title><content type='html'>The local bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man around that they offered a standing $1000 bet. The bartender would squeeze a lemon until all the juice ran into a glass, and hand the lemon to a patron. Anyone who could squeeze one more drop of juice out would win the money. Many people had tried over time (weight-lifters, longshoremen, etc.) but nobody could do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day this scrawny little man came into the bar, wearing thick glasses and a polyester suit, and said in a tiny squeaky voice " I'd like to try the bet" After the laughter had died down, the bartender said OK, grabbed a lemon,&lt;br /&gt;and squeezed away. Then he handed the wrinkled remains of the rind to the little man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the crowd's laughter turned to total silence as the man clenched his fist around the lemon and six drops fell into the glass. As the crowd cheered, the bartender paid the $1000, and asked the little man "what do you do for a living? Are you a lumberjack, a weight-lifter, or what?" The man replied "I work for the IRS."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38435451-4079521621554314968?l=dlighterside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/feeds/4079521621554314968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38435451&amp;postID=4079521621554314968&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4079521621554314968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38435451/posts/default/4079521621554314968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dlighterside.blogspot.com/2007/02/bet.html' title='bet'/><author><name>Vivian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cry18SotXm0/TxhTXoPZK_I/AAAAAAAAD_4/FSqAodS-ysk/s220/10392455.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
