<?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-6036557337332765610</id><updated>2011-04-21T23:25:01.775+01:00</updated><category term='blondes'/><title type='text'>Sues Jokes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Susanne Flan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14554527545888287400</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6036557337332765610.post-3275025271730154895</id><published>2007-09-03T18:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T18:06:30.464+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Curry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Tahoma;" lang="EN-US"&gt;For those of you who have lived in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Natal&lt;/st1:City&gt;  (&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;South  Africa&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;), you know how typical this is.  They  actually have a Curry Cook-off about June/July.  It takes up a major portion of  a parking lot at the Royal Show in PMB (Pietermaritzberg).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-US"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Tahoma;" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge #3 was an inexperienced  food critic named Frank, who was visiting from &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;America&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank: "Recently, I  was honored to be selected as a judge at a Curry Cook-off.  The original judge  called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the  judge's table asking for directions to the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Beer&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Garden&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; when the call came in.  I was  assured by the other two judges (Natal Indians) that the curry wouldn't be all  that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting,  so I accepted".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the scorecard notes from the event: &lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CURRY #  1 - SEELAN'S MANIAC MONSTER TOMATO CURRY...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 1 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-- A little too  heavy on the tomato.  Amusing kick. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Nice smooth tomato flavour.   Very mild. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  (Frank) -- Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff?  You could remove dried paint  from your driveway.  Took me two beers to put the flames out.  I hope that's the  worst one. These people are crazy.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHILLI #2 - &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;PHOENIX&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; BBQ CHICKEN  CURRY...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge #  1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Smoky, with a hint of chicken.  Slight chilli tang. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 2 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-- Exciting BBQ  flavour, needs more peppers to be taken seriously. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Keep this out of the reach of  children.  I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain.  I had to wave  off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre!  They had to rush  in more beer w hen they saw the look on my face.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CURRY # 3 - SHAMILA'S FAMOUS "BURN  DOWN THE GARAGE" CURRY...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Excellent firehouse curry.   Great kick. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge #  2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- A bit salty, good use of chilli peppers. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Call 911.   I've located a uranium spill.  My nose feels like I have been snorting Drain  Cleaner.  Everyone knows the routine by now.  Get me more beer before I ignite.   Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my  chest.  I'm getting pissed from all the beer.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHILLI # 4 - BABOO'S BLACK MAGIC BEAN  CURRY... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge #  1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Black bean curry with almost no spice.  Disappointing. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Hint of lime  in the black beans.  Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a  curry. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- I  felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it.  Is it  possible to burn out taste buds?  Shareen, the beer maid, was standing behind me  with fresh refills.  That 200kg woman is starting to look HOT..., just like this  nuclear waste I'm eating!  Is chilli an aphrodisiac?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHILLI # 5 LALL'S  LEGAL LIP REMOVER...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 1 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-- Meaty, strong curry.  Cayenne  peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick.  Very impressive. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Average beef  curry, could use more tomato.  Must admit the chilli peppers make a strong  statement. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 3  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can  no longer focus my eyes.  I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics.   The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chilli had given me  brain damage.  Shareen saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on  it from the pitcher.  I wonder if I'm burning my lips off.  It really pisses me  off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming.  Screw  them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-US"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Tahoma;" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHILLI # 6 - VERISHNEE'S VEGETARIAN  VARIETY... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge  # 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety curry.  Good balance of  spices and peppers. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge #  2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-US"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Tahoma;" lang="EN-US"&gt;-- The best  yet.  Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic.  Superb. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- My intestines  are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames.  I am definitely  going to shit myself if I fart and I'm worried it will eat through the chair.   No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Shareen.  Can't feel my  lips anymore.  I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone ice-cream.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHILLI # 7 - SELINA'S  "MOTHER-IN-LAW'S-TONGUE" CURRY... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 1 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-- A mediocre curry with too much  reliance on canned peppers. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge #  2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of  chilli peppers at the last moment.  (I should take note at this stage that I am  worried about Judge # 3.  He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing  uncontrollably). &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge #  3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I  wouldn't feel a thing.  I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it  is made of rushing water.  My shirt is covered with curry which slid unnoticed  out of my mouth.  My pants are full of lava to match my shirt.  At least, during  the autopsy, they'll know what killed me.  I've decided to stop breathing- it's  too painful.  Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway.   If I need air I'll  just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHILLI # 8 - NAIDOO'S  TOENAIL CURLING CURRY...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- The perfect ending.  This is a  nice blend curry.  Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence. &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -- This final  entry is a good, balanced curry.  Neither mild nor hot.   Sorry to see that most  of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over, and pulled the curry  pot down on top of himself.   Not sure if he's going to make it.  Poor man,  wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot curry? &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge # 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - No Report. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6036557337332765610-3275025271730154895?l=suejokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3275025271730154895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6036557337332765610&amp;postID=3275025271730154895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/3275025271730154895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/3275025271730154895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/2007/09/hot-curry.html' title='Hot Curry'/><author><name>Susanne Flan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14554527545888287400</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6036557337332765610.post-8298942218939727955</id><published>2007-08-31T23:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T23:54:52.254+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex Lotto</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt; &lt;td class="msgleft" rowspan="4" width="1%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td class="wintiny"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td height="8"&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td class="msgtxt"&gt;&lt;span style="color:blue;"&gt;A gas station owner in Mississippi was trying  to increase his sales.  So he put up a sign that read, "Free Sex Lotto with  Fill-Up." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon  a local redneck pulled in, filled his tank and asked  for his free sex chance.  The  owner told him to pick a number from 1 to 10.  If  he guessed correctly he would get his free sex.  The redneck guessed 8, and the  proprietor said, "You were close.  The number was 7.  Sorry, no sex this time." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later, the same redneck, along with a buddy, Bubba, pulled in for  another fill-up.  Again, he asked for his free sex.  The proprietor again asked  him to guess the correct number.  The redneck guessed 2 this time.   The proprietor said; "Sorry, it was 3. You were close, but no free sex  this time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they were driving away, the redneck said to his buddy; "I  think that game is rigged and he doesn't really give away  free sex."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba replied; "No it ain't rigged.  My wife won twice last  week."&lt;/span&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/6036557337332765610-8298942218939727955?l=suejokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8298942218939727955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6036557337332765610&amp;postID=8298942218939727955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/8298942218939727955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/8298942218939727955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/2007/08/sex-lotto_31.html' title='Sex Lotto'/><author><name>Susanne Flan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14554527545888287400</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6036557337332765610.post-3532260713138541662</id><published>2007-08-24T10:02:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T10:03:39.165+01:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Chimps and a blonde</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A blonde lady motorist was about two hours from  San Diego when she was&lt;br /&gt;flagged down by a man whose truck had broken down. The  man walked up to&lt;br /&gt;the car and asked, "Are you going to San  Diego?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," answered the blonde, "do you need a lift?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not  for me. I'll be spending the next three hours fixing my truck. My&lt;br /&gt;problem is  I've got two chimpanzees in the back, which have to be taken to&lt;br /&gt;the San Diego  Zoo. They're a bit stressed already so I don't want to keep&lt;br /&gt;them on the road  all day. Could you possibly take them to the zoo for me?&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you $100  for your trouble."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd be happy to," said the blonde. So the two  chimpanzees were ushered&lt;br /&gt;into the back seat of the blonde's car and carefully  strapped into their&lt;br /&gt;seat belts. Off they went. Five hours later, the truck  driver was driving&lt;br /&gt;through the heart of San Diego when suddenly he was  horrified! There was&lt;br /&gt;the blonde walking down the street and holding hands  with the two chimps,&lt;br /&gt;much to the amusement of a big crowd. With a screech of  brakes he pulled&lt;br /&gt;off the road and ran over to the blonde. "What the heck are  you doing&lt;br /&gt;here?" he demanded, "I gave you $100 to take these chimpanzees to  the zoo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I know you did," said the blonde," but we had money left  over – so&lt;br /&gt;now we're going to Sea World."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6036557337332765610-3532260713138541662?l=suejokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3532260713138541662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6036557337332765610&amp;postID=3532260713138541662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/3532260713138541662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/3532260713138541662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/2007/08/2-chimps-and-blonde.html' title='2 Chimps and a blonde'/><author><name>Susanne Flan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14554527545888287400</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6036557337332765610.post-8079241816686589636</id><published>2007-08-11T21:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T21:53:00.500+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't pee in her flower bed</title><content type='html'>A little old lady is walking down the street, dragging two  plastic&lt;br /&gt;garbage bags, one in each  hand.&lt;br /&gt;There's a hole in one of the bags, and once  in a while a $20 bill flies&lt;br /&gt;out of it onto the  pavement.&lt;br /&gt;Noticing this, a policeman stops  her.&lt;br /&gt;"Ma'am, there are $20 bills falling out of  that bag..."&lt;br /&gt;"Darn!" says the little old  lady....."I'd better go back and see if I can&lt;br /&gt;find some of them.  Thanks for the warning!"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, now, not so  fast," says the cop. "How did you get all that money?&lt;br /&gt;Did you  steal it?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no", says the little old lady.  "You see, my back yard backs up to&lt;br /&gt;the parking lot of the  football stadium.&lt;br /&gt;Each time there's a game, a lot  of fans come and pee in the bushes, right&lt;br /&gt;into my flower  beds!"&lt;br /&gt;So, I go and stand behind the bushes with  a big hedge clipper, and each&lt;br /&gt;time someone sticks his thingie  through the bushes, I say '$20 or off it&lt;br /&gt;comes!'  "&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, not a bad idea!" laughs the cop. "Good  luck!" By the way, what's in&lt;br /&gt;the other  bag?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well", says the little old lady, "Not all  of them pay."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6036557337332765610-8079241816686589636?l=suejokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8079241816686589636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6036557337332765610&amp;postID=8079241816686589636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/8079241816686589636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/8079241816686589636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/2007/08/dont-pee-in-her-flower-bed.html' title='Don&apos;t pee in her flower bed'/><author><name>Susanne Flan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14554527545888287400</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6036557337332765610.post-5052311887575444270</id><published>2007-08-02T20:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T20:22:53.157+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blondes'/><title type='text'>A Blonde Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;A married couple were asleep when  the phone rang at 2 in the morning.  The wife (undoubtedly blonde), picked up  the phone, listened a moment and said, "How should I know, that's 200 miles from  here!" and hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband said, "Who was that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife said, "I don't  know, some woman wanting to know if the coast  is clear."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6036557337332765610-5052311887575444270?l=suejokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/feeds/5052311887575444270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6036557337332765610&amp;postID=5052311887575444270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/5052311887575444270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6036557337332765610/posts/default/5052311887575444270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suejokes.blogspot.com/2007/08/blonde-moment.html' title='A Blonde Moment'/><author><name>Susanne Flan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14554527545888287400</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
