<?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-5809653905050574123</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:32:13.221-08:00</updated><category term='Husband'/><category term='Decent - SMS Jokes'/><category term='Shopping Jokes'/><category term='Holi sms'/><category term='Wife'/><category term='Animal Jokes'/><category term='Lawyer jokes'/><category term='Celebrities jokes'/><category term='Marriage Jokes'/><category term='Clean Jokes'/><category term='Adult  - SMS Jokes'/><category term='Bad Taste jokes'/><category term='Love Joke'/><category term='Dating Jokes'/><category term='Hindi Joke'/><category term='Dirty jokes'/><category term='Blonde jokes'/><category term='Little Johnny - Jokes'/><category term='Teenager Jokes'/><category term='School Jokes'/><category term='Adult Jokes'/><category term='Female Jokes'/><category term='Children jokes'/><category term='Gays and Lesbians jokes'/><category term='SMS Jokes'/><category term='Doctor&apos;s  Jokes'/><category term='Hindi Adult Joke'/><category term='Bar jokes'/><category term='Computer jokes'/><category term='Food Jokes'/><title type='text'>Funky Jokes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>hehehehe</name><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>554</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809653905050574123.post-2290748005277991814</id><published>2009-05-21T04:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T04:57:14.077-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde jokes'/><title type='text'>Blonde The Builder</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Two blonde chicks were building a house together. One blonde was cutting the wood and the other was on a ladder nailing. Before hammering in a nail; the blonde on the ladder would reach into her nail pouch, look at it, and either toss it over her shoulder or proceed to hammer it into the wood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The other blonde, confused, watched her do this and after she could take it no longer yelled up, “Why the %@#&amp;amp; are you throwing some of the nails away?!” “Whoa! Don’t yell!” the blonde on the ladder explained, “If it’s pointed toward me when I pull it out of my pouch, I throw it away. If it’s pointed toward the house, then I can use it safely! Duh!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The second blonde became irate at this point and started to call her all kinds of names, referencing how stupid she was and how she was the reason blonde’s get a bad rap for being dumb. She explained the importance of keeping all the nails, “Don’t throw away the nails that are pointed toward you! They’re for the other side of the house! Duh!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2290748005277991814?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2290748005277991814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2290748005277991814&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2290748005277991814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2290748005277991814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/blonde-builder.html' title='Blonde The Builder'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4335551960443508888</id><published>2009-05-21T04:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T04:56:37.577-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde jokes'/><title type='text'>Cigarette Condoms</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A blonde, a brunette and a red head were smoking cigarettes one afternoon. The blonde had Camels, red head had Marlboros, and the brunette had Kools.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It began to pour down raining, so the red head and brunette both pull out a condom and put it on their cigs. The blonde says “what are you doing?” – and they say “we’re saving it for later!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Impressed, and in a hurry, the blonde goes to the nearest store and asks for a condom. The clerk says “What size? small, medium, or large?” She said “I dont know… one to fit a camel?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4335551960443508888?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4335551960443508888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4335551960443508888&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4335551960443508888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4335551960443508888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/cigarette-condoms.html' title='Cigarette Condoms'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1083036309334008476</id><published>2009-05-21T04:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T04:55:51.846-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde jokes'/><title type='text'>The Blonde Painter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;An ambitious young blonde woman, in need of money, decided to hire herself out as a handyman-type. She began, door to door,  canvassing a wealthy neighborhood for work. She went to the front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any jobs for her to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Well, you can paint my porch. How much will you charge?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The blonde said, “How about 50 dollars?” The man agreed and told her that the paint and ladders that she might need were in the garage. A short time later, the blonde came to the door to collect her money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“You’re finished already?” he asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Yes,” the blonde answered, “and I had paint left over, so I gave it two coats.” Impressed, the man reached in his pocket for the $50.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“And by the way,” the blonde added, “that’s not a Porch, it’s a Ferrari.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1083036309334008476?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1083036309334008476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1083036309334008476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1083036309334008476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1083036309334008476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/blonde-painter.html' title='The Blonde Painter'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3139946702910426509</id><published>2009-05-21T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T04:55:05.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde jokes'/><title type='text'>Milk Bath For Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;An older blonde woman heard through a friend that taking a milk bath is good for the skin, will cure stretch marks and make her beautiful again. So she left a note for her milkman to leave 15 gallons of milk instead of the usual amount.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When the milkman arrived, and read the note, he felt there must be a mistake. He thought she probably meant 1.5 gallons so he knocked on her door to clarify the point. The woman came to the door, and the milkman said, “Yes ma’am, I found your note to leave 15 gallons of milk. Did you mean 1.5 gallons?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The blonde said, “I want 15 gallons. I’m going to fill my bathtub up with milk and take a milk bath.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The milkman asked, “Do you want it Pasteurized?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The blonde replied, “Nope, just up to my boobs, I can splash it in my eyes.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3139946702910426509?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3139946702910426509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3139946702910426509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3139946702910426509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3139946702910426509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/milk-bath-for-beauty.html' title='Milk Bath For Beauty'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4357487072676228282</id><published>2009-05-21T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T04:54:14.837-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde jokes'/><title type='text'>A Blonde’s Flight To Chicago</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A commercial airplane is in flight to Chicago, when a blonde woman sitting in economy gets up and moves to an open seat in the first class section. A flight attendant watches her do this, and politely informs the woman that she must return to her seat in the economy class because that’s the type of ticket she paid for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumb BlondeThe blonde woman replies, “I’m blonde, I’m beautiful, I’m going to  Chicago and I’m staying right here.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After repeated attempts and no success convicing the woman to return to economy, the flight attendant goes into the cockpit and informs the pilot and co-pilot that there’s a blonde bimbo sitting in first class who refuses to go back to her proper seat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The co-pilot goes back to the woman and explains why she needs to move, but once again the woman replies by saying, “I’m blonde, I’m beautiful, I’m going to  Chicago and I’m staying right here.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The co-pilot returns to the cockpit and suggests that perhaps they should have the arrival gate call the police and have the woman arrested when they land. The pilot says, “You say she’s blonde? I’ll handle this. I’m married to a blonde. I speak blonde.” He kneels down next to the woman and whispers quietly in her ear, and she says, “Oh, I’m sorry,” then quickly moves back to her seat in economy class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The flight attendant and co-pilot are amazed and ask him what he said to get her to move back to economy without causing any fuss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“I told her first class isn’t going to Chicago.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4357487072676228282?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4357487072676228282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4357487072676228282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4357487072676228282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4357487072676228282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/blondes-flight-to-chicago.html' title='A Blonde’s Flight To Chicago'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2183413819223899124</id><published>2009-05-18T04:00:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T04:01:39.441-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>New Husband</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;In a small town in the old country the Rabbi died. His widow, the Rebbetzin, was so disconsolate that the people of the town decided that she ought to get married again. But the town was so small that the only eligible bachelor was the town butcher. The poor Rebbetzin was somewhat dismayed because she had been wed to a scholar, and the butcher had no great formal education. However, she agreed and they were married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the marriage Friday came. They went to the Mikva. Then home to prepare to light the candles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The butcher leaned over to her and said, “My mother told me that after the Mikva and before lighting he candles, it’s a mitzvah to have sex.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they did. She lit the candles. He leaned over again and said, “My father told me that after lighting the candles it’s good to have sex.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they did. They went to bed after prayers to get ready for Shabbos. When they awoke he said to her, “My grandmother said that before you go to the synagogue it’s a mitzvah to have sex.” So they did. After praying all day, they came home to rest, and again he whispers in her ear, “My grandfather says after praying it’s a mitzvah to have sex.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they did. On Sunday she goes out to shop for food and meets a friend who asks, “So how is the new husband?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replies, “Well, he is no scholar, but he comes from a wonderful family.” &lt;/b&gt;      &lt;!-- / message --&gt;                       &lt;!-- sig --&gt;    &lt;div style="width: 33%; padding-top: 9px;"&gt;&lt;hr style="color: rgb(218, 218, 218); background-color: rgb(218, 218, 218);" size="1"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2183413819223899124?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2183413819223899124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2183413819223899124&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2183413819223899124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2183413819223899124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-husband.html' title='New Husband'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4749890454047887731</id><published>2009-05-18T04:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T04:00:45.633-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Boss's Boss</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sam is a servant boy who every day drinks the wine of his Boss puts water in the bottle to replace what he drank. But the Boss having suspicions as for the quality of the wine, decides to buy pastis (a French wine that changes color if you add water). Sam as usual, takes a mouthful and add water to replace what he drank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;However, soon after he added water the pastis became milky. When the Boss came backed and noticed it, he was sure he had managed to nail Sam as thief!!! At that same moment Sam realized he was in trouble and decided to go into the kitchen. The Boss told his wife that "Cherished, you will see, he will be obliged to acknowledge ". He shouted: "Sam!". Sam answered: "Yes, Boss". "Who drank my pastis?" No answer. The Boss reiterated his question: still no answer. Then the Boss went to find Sam in the kitchen and says to him: "You insane or what? Why when I call you you say "yes boss" but when I ask you a question you don't answer me? "Sam reported that "It is that boss, when you are in the kitchen there, you don't understand anything at all, except the name "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then to prove that Sam lies, the Boss says to him: "You stay beside Madam, me I go in the kitchen, and you ask me a question ". Sam accepted. The Boss went in the kitchen and Sam shouted: "Boss". He answered: "Yes, Sam". Sam continued: "Who goes at the maid bedroom when the Madam is not there?" No answer. Sam shouted again: "Boss, I say who made the maid pregnant?" No answer. Third time: "Boss, I say who made the maid pregnant?" The Boss returns from the kitchen running and says "Sam: It is true, you are right, when one is in the kitchen, one does not hear anything, only the name". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4749890454047887731?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4749890454047887731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4749890454047887731&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4749890454047887731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4749890454047887731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/bosss-boss.html' title='Boss&apos;s Boss'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-6851404390417331325</id><published>2009-05-18T03:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T04:00:04.260-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Who Is The Boss</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;When the body was first made, all the parts wanted to be Boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Brain said, "I should be Boss because I control the whole body's responses and functions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feet said, "We should be Boss as we carry the brain about and get him to where he wants to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hands said, "We should be Boss because we do all the work and earn all the money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it went on and on with the heart, the lungs and the eyes until finally the asshole spoke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the parts laughed at the idea of the asshole being the Boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the asshole went on strike, blocked itself up and refused to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a short time the eyes became crossed, the hands clenched, the Feet twitched, the heart and lungs began to panic and the brain fevered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually they all decided that asshole should be the Boss, so the motion was passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the other parts did all the work while the Boss just sat and passed out the shit!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-6851404390417331325?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6851404390417331325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=6851404390417331325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6851404390417331325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6851404390417331325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/who-is-boss.html' title='Who Is The Boss'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7471939720173729113</id><published>2009-05-18T03:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T03:59:38.481-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Russins´s wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One day a Russian man was walking along a small alleyway of Moscow. As he was walking, he accidentally kicked over a dirty can, and to his amazement a genie popped out. The genie said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You have one wish, what will the wish be?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After thinking for a while, the man was ready to say his wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I wish that I could pee vodka."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"How you wish,"the genie said, and was gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The man was so excited that he rushed home and took out a shot glass. He then peed into the glass, and looked at it. It was very clear, and did not look like pee. Then he took a small sip, and lo and behold, it was the best vodka he had ever tasted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That night he called his wife over and took out two shot glasses, and did his business in them. The wife was very reluctant to drink it, but when she did, she was amazed, and they drunk far into the night. Eventually getting it on with each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The next night they did the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The third night, the man only took out one glass. The woman asked him why he only took out one, and his response was...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Tonight, my dear lady, you drink straight from the bottle!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7471939720173729113?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7471939720173729113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7471939720173729113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7471939720173729113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7471939720173729113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/russinss-wish.html' title='Russins´s wish'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5822889923898270688</id><published>2009-05-15T02:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T02:48:03.483-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Viagra Side Effects</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A woman asks her husband if he'd like some breakfast. "Bacon and eggs, perhaps a slice of toast? Maybe a nice sectioned grapefruit, and a cup of fresh coffee?"&lt;br /&gt;He declines. "It's this Viagra," he says, "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."&lt;br /&gt;At lunch time, she asks if he would like something. "A bowl of home made soup, maybe, with a cheese sandwich? Or how about a plate of snacks and a glass of milk?"&lt;br /&gt;Again he declines. "No, thanks. It's this Viagra," he says, "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."&lt;br /&gt;At dinner time, she asks if he wants anything to eat, offering to go to the cafe and buy him a burger supper. "Or would you rather I make you a pizza from scratch? Or, how about a tasty stir fry? That'll only take a couple of minutes."&lt;br /&gt;Once more, he declines. "Again, thanks, but it's this Viagra. It's really taken the edge off my appetite."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, then", she says, "Would you mind getting off me? I'm STARVING!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5822889923898270688?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5822889923898270688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5822889923898270688&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5822889923898270688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5822889923898270688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/viagra-side-effects.html' title='Viagra Side Effects'/><author><name>Admin</name><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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809653905050574123.post-2096466435833651696</id><published>2009-05-15T02:46:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T02:47:10.878-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>A Donkey Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A king wanted to improve the mood of his favorite donkey, who was depressed, so he put out a proclamation that he would pay anyone in the kingdom 200 gold pieces if they could make his donkey happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many tried, all failed. Then a jester went in to see the donkey, and when he came out, the donkey was indeed happy - so happy in fact, that he was laughing heartily. The jester got the gold, but a few days passed and the king couldn''t make the donkey stop laughing. So he put out another proclamation saying he would pay 500 gold pieces to anyone who could make the donkey stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The jester returned, went in to see the donkey for a few seconds, and when he came out, the donkey was crying. The king asked the jester how he did it. The jester said, "I will tell you for another 200 gold pieces."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the jester had received his gold, he revealed, "On my first visit, I told the donkey that my dick was bigger than his.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2096466435833651696?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2096466435833651696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2096466435833651696&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2096466435833651696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2096466435833651696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/donkey-joke.html' title='A Donkey Joke'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5326575612055723286</id><published>2009-05-15T02:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T02:46:34.579-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Sleepy Mary</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Mary was in Sunday School but she didn't get enough sleep so one day her Teacher thought she could get Mary's attention by asking her a question&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mary who is Jesus Christ's father?"&lt;br /&gt;Mary didn't answer so her friend Jimmy poked her in the butt with a pencil and&lt;br /&gt;Mary says. GOD!!!&lt;br /&gt;and she falls back asleep and her teacher noticed and came back and asked her&lt;br /&gt;"Who is our Lord and Savior?"&lt;br /&gt;and then Jimmy pokes her in the butt again and Mary yells Jesus Christ and falls back alseep and then the teacher comes back and asked&lt;br /&gt;"What did Eve say too Adam after the had their 23rd child?"&lt;br /&gt;so yet again Jimmy pokes her in the butt and yells &lt;span style="color:DarkRed;"&gt;IF YOU KEEP POKING ME IM GOING TOO BREAK IT IN HALF!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5326575612055723286?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5326575612055723286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5326575612055723286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5326575612055723286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5326575612055723286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/sleepy-mary.html' title='Sleepy Mary'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8669057864250398754</id><published>2009-05-15T02:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T02:46:02.188-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>In the same Room</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A man and a woman, who have never met before, find themselves assigned to the same sleeping room on a transcontinental train.&lt;br /&gt;Though initially embarrassed and uneasy over sharing a room, the two retired and fell asleep quickly...he in the upper bunk and she in the lower.&lt;br /&gt;At 1:00 AM, he leans over and gently wakes the woman saying, "Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you be willing to reach into the closet to get me a second blanket? I'm awfully cold."&lt;br /&gt;"I have a better idea," she replies. "Just for tonight, let's pretend that we're married." "Wow! That's a great idea!!" he xclaims.&lt;br /&gt;"Good," she replies. "Get your own fucking blanket!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8669057864250398754?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8669057864250398754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8669057864250398754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8669057864250398754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8669057864250398754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-same-room.html' title='In the same Room'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5095932689778604412</id><published>2009-05-09T00:46:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T00:47:22.117-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Sex On The Beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A guy is walking along the beach, when he meets a girl with no legs, crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why are you crying?" he asks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I've never been hugged," she says. The guy hugs her, but she continues crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why are you crying?" he asks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I've never been kissed," she says. The guy kisses her, but she continues crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why are you crying?" he asks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I've never been screwed," she says. The guy picks her up and throws her into the water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"There," he says. "Now you're screwed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5095932689778604412?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5095932689778604412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5095932689778604412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5095932689778604412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5095932689778604412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/sex-on-beach.html' title='Sex On The Beach'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7359656801148509950</id><published>2009-05-09T00:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T00:46:54.242-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Fiscal Policy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2007 Tax Code&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The only thing that the Government has not taxed yet is the male penis. This is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;due to the fact that 69% of the time it is hanging around unemployed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10% of the time it is hard up, 20% of the time it is pissed off and 1%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;of the time it is in the hole. On top of that, it has two dependents and they are both nuts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOWEVER, effective January 1st, 2007, the penis will now be taxed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;according to size.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The brackets are as follows:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 - 12" Luxury Tax $300.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8 - 10" Pole Tax $250.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5 - 8" Privilege Tax $150.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3 - 5" Nuisance Tax $30.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Males exceeding 12" must file capital gains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anyone under 4 inches is eligible for a tax refund.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PLEASE DO NOT ASK FOR AN EXTENSION &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7359656801148509950?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7359656801148509950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7359656801148509950&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7359656801148509950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7359656801148509950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/fiscal-policy.html' title='Fiscal Policy'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8262044928992824351</id><published>2009-05-09T00:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T00:46:01.948-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Oral awakening</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A woman was in a coma. She had been in it for months. Nurses were in her room giving her a sponge bath. One of them was washing her private area and noticed that there was a slight response on the monitor when she touched her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They tried it again and sure enough there was definite movement. They went to her husband and explained what happened, telling him, "As crazy as this sounds, maybe a little oral sex will do the trick and bring her out of the coma."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband was skeptical, but they assured him that they'd close the curtains for privacy. The husband finally agreed and went into his wife's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes the woman's monitor flat lined, no pulse, no heart rate. The nurses run back into the room. "What happened!?" they cried. The husband said, "I'm not sure - I think maybe she choked."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8262044928992824351?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8262044928992824351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8262044928992824351&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8262044928992824351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8262044928992824351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/oral-awakening.html' title='Oral awakening'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-540482585196370211</id><published>2009-05-09T00:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T00:45:04.749-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>How To Enlarge Breasts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fresh from her shower, a woman stands in front of the mirror, complaining to her husband that her breasts are too small.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Instead of characteristically telling her it's not so, her husband uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between your breasts for a few seconds."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Willing to try anything, the wife fetches a piece of toilet paper and stands in front of the mirror, rubbing it between her breasts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"How long will this take?" she asks..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"They will grow larger over a period of years," he replies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife stops. "Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?" Without missing a beat the husband says, "Worked for your butt, didn't it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-540482585196370211?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/540482585196370211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=540482585196370211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/540482585196370211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/540482585196370211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-to-enlarge-breasts.html' title='How To Enlarge Breasts'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2724168704885689395</id><published>2009-05-05T01:48:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:49:12.672-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>A Confession</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;One day there were four nuns in line for confessional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first nun said, "Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said "I saw a man's private part." He told her to wash her eyes with holy water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second nun comes in and says, "Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I touched a man's private parts." He told her to wash her hands in holy water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he heard the third and fourth nun fighting. He asked why they were fighting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fourth nun said, "I'm not going to wash my mouth in the holy water if she is going to sit in it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2724168704885689395?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2724168704885689395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2724168704885689395&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2724168704885689395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2724168704885689395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/confession.html' title='A Confession'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-518744021885567783</id><published>2009-05-05T01:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:48:45.114-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>The result of anal sex</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A woman went to her doctor for advice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She told him that her husband had developed a penchant for anal sex, and she was not sure that it was such a good idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Do you enjoy it?" The doctor asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Actually, yes, I do."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Does it hurt you?" he asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"No. I rather like it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, then," the doctor continued, "there's no reason that you shouldn't practice anal sex, if that's what you like, so long as you take care not to get pregnant."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The woman was mystified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What? You can get pregnant from anal sex?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Of course," the doctor replied, "Where do you think politicians come from?"..... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-518744021885567783?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/518744021885567783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=518744021885567783&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/518744021885567783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/518744021885567783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/result-of-anal-sex.html' title='The result of anal sex'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4648413243479893276</id><published>2009-05-05T01:47:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:48:16.800-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Cruise on the Pacific</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A cruise on the Pacific goes all wrong, the ship sinks, and there are only 3 Survivors; Bob, Tom and Debbie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They manage to swim to a small island and they live there for a couple of years doing what's natural for men and women to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After several years of casual sex, all the time, Debbie felt absolutely horrible about what she was doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She felt having sex with both Bob and Tom was so immoral and bad that she killed herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was tragic, but Bob and Tom managed to get through it. After awhile, Bob and Toms resistance to natures urgings waned, and the inevitable happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well, a couple more years went by and Bob and Tom began to feel absolutely horrible about what they were doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So they buried Debbie..... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4648413243479893276?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4648413243479893276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4648413243479893276&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4648413243479893276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4648413243479893276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/cruise-on-pacific.html' title='Cruise on the Pacific'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-881429360375612892</id><published>2009-05-05T01:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:47:49.785-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Grab my breasts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She goes into Wal-Mart and tells the clerk she wants a refund for the toaster she bought because it doesn't work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The clerk tells her that he can't give her a refund because she bought it on special.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All of a sudden, the woman throws her arms up in the air and starts screaming!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"GRAB MY BREASTS! GRAB MY BREASTS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The clerk, not knowing what to do, runs to get the store manager. The manager comes up to the Woman and asks, "What's wrong?" !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She explains the situation with the toaster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He tells her that he can't give her a refund because she bought it on special.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Once again, the woman throws her arms up in the air and starts screaming,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"GRAB MY BREASTS! GRAB MY BREASTS!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In shock, the store manager pleads, "Ma'am, why are saying you that?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In a huff, the woman says,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"BECAUSE, I LIKE TO HAVE MY BREASTS GRABBED WHEN I'M GET TING SCREWED!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-881429360375612892?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/881429360375612892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=881429360375612892&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/881429360375612892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/881429360375612892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/grab-my-breasts.html' title='Grab my breasts'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2874043623571443316</id><published>2009-05-05T01:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:47:02.637-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Skin transplant surgery</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A married couple was in a terrible accident where the woman's face was severely burned. The doctor told the husband that they couldn't graft any skin from her body because she was too skinny. So the husband offered to donate some of his own skin. However, the only skin on his body that the doctor felt was suitable would have to come from his buttocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband and wife agreed that they would tell no one about where the skin came from, and requested that the doctor also honor their secret. After all, this was a very delicate matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the surgery was completed, everyone was astounded at the woman's new beauty. She looked more beautiful than she ever had before! All her friends and relatives just went on and on about her youthful beauty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, she was alone with her husband, and she was overcome with emotion at his sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Dear, I just want to thank you for everything you did for me. There is no way I could ever repay you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My darling," he replied, "think nothing of it. I get all the thanks I need every time I see your mother kiss you on the cheek."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2874043623571443316?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2874043623571443316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2874043623571443316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2874043623571443316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2874043623571443316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/skin-transplant-surgery.html' title='Skin transplant surgery'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-6951723786161055855</id><published>2009-05-02T03:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T03:07:34.480-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Irish prostitute</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;An Irish daughter had not been home for over 5 years. Upon her return, her father cursed her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where have ye been all this time? Why did ye not write to us, not even a line? Why didn't ye call? Can ye not understand what ye put yer old mum thru?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The girl, crying, replied, "Sniff, sniff....dad....I became a prostitute...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Ye what!!? Out of here, ye shameless harlot! Sinner! You're a disgrace to this family."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"OK, dad-- as ye wish. I just came back to give mum this luxurious fur coat, title deed to a ten bedroom mansion plus a savings certificate for $5 million."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"For me little brother, this gold Rolex and for ye daddy, the sparkling new Mercedes limited edition convertible that's parked outside plus a membership to the country club....(takes a breath)....and an invitation for ye all to spend New Years' Eve on board my new yacht in the Riviera, and...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Now what was it ye said ye had become?" says dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Girl, crying again, "Sniff, sniff....a prostitute dad! Sniff, sniff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Oh! Be Jesus! Ye scared me half to death, girl! I thought ye said a Protestant. Come here and give yer old man a hug.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-6951723786161055855?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6951723786161055855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=6951723786161055855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6951723786161055855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6951723786161055855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/irish-prostitute.html' title='Irish prostitute'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-9087699639977256109</id><published>2009-05-02T03:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T03:06:59.391-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Blonde Teacher</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A blonde gets a job as a teacher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Watching the kids play she notices a boy in the field stood by himself while all the other kids are running around having fun with a ball.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She takes pity on him and decides to speak to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Are you ok?" she says&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Yes" he replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You do know that you can go and play with the other kids", she says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Its best I stay here" he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"But why?" says the blonde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The boys says&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Because I'm the f#cking goalie"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-9087699639977256109?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/9087699639977256109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=9087699639977256109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/9087699639977256109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/9087699639977256109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/blonde-teacher.html' title='Blonde Teacher'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3467977053600344553</id><published>2009-05-02T03:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T03:05:24.386-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>The flying dick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A guy was driving his truck along the interstate, when he admitted to his wife that he had screwed around on her. She proceeded to cut his penis off with a hunting knife, and throw it out the window.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The penis whizzed through the air and landed momentarily with a "SPLAT" on the windshield of the car behind, before sliding off. The little girl who was riding with her father yelled, "Daddy! Ew, what was that? I'm scared."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Her father said, "Don't worry honey, it was only a bug."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;His daughter said, "Wow, that bug really had a huge dick!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3467977053600344553?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3467977053600344553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3467977053600344553&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3467977053600344553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3467977053600344553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/flying-dick.html' title='The flying dick'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3070128696294311451</id><published>2009-05-02T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T03:04:04.315-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Serious Swimming</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There was a competition to swim from Santa Monica to Catalina doing only the breaststroke, and the three women who entered the race were a brunette, a redhead and a blonde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After approximately 14 hours, the brunette staggered up on the shore and was declared the fastest breaststroker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;About 40 minutes later, the redhead crawled on shore and was declared the second place finisher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nearly 8 hours after that, the blonde finally came ashore and promptly collapsed in front of the worried onlookers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When the reporters asked why it took her so long to complete the race, she replied:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't want to sound like a sore loser, but I think those two other girls were using their arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3070128696294311451?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3070128696294311451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3070128696294311451&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3070128696294311451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3070128696294311451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/serious-swimming.html' title='Serious Swimming'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4440482943496983166</id><published>2009-05-02T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T03:03:30.256-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Adult Joke'/><title type='text'>Poor Bablu &amp; Pappu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt; There is a classroom of some small children (5-7yrs),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a genius boy ( Bablu ) and a smart one (Pappu).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dialogue between the two and the teacher goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bablu: "Teacher, teacher! Is Bus male or female?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher : Thinking.... ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappu: "Teacher, teacher! It is female"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bablu : "Kyon?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappu: "Kyon ki sab log uspe chadte hain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher is pareshan. While Bablu gets in doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bablu: "Agar bus female hai aur sab uspe chadte hain to uske bacche kyon nahin hote?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher is more pareshan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappu: "Kyon ki sab us par peeche se chadte hain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher is now hiding her face.Bablu gets another doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bablu: "Maana sabhi peeche se chadte hain, but driver aur conductor to aagay se chadte hain. Phir bachche kyon nahin hote?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher is sweating as it is getting too much to handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappu replies : "Kyon ki who dono topi pehanke chadte hain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher faints !!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4440482943496983166?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4440482943496983166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4440482943496983166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4440482943496983166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4440482943496983166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/poor-bablu-pappu.html' title='Poor Bablu &amp; Pappu'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2225933981425171991</id><published>2009-05-02T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T02:59:53.745-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Superheros</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One day Superman was feeling horny. So, he began to ask his super hero friends for ideas on where he could get a bit of action. "Hey Batman! Who's good in the sack?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well Superman, everyone knows that Wonder Woman is the best sex in Comicland. Why don't you try her?" replied Batman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I'd love to, but Wonder Woman and I are friends so don't want to take advantage of her."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Damn shame," said Batman as he waved goodbye to Superman and drove off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ten minutes later Superman was flying low over a city when he saw the Green Lantern patching up a building. He flew down. "Hey Hal, I'm looking for a little action. You're a swinging bachelor; who's the best babe in Comicland?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Hey, Superman! Everyone knows that Wonder Woman is far and away the best lay in Comicland; why don't you try her?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, we're friends," Superman said, "but I didn't realize she had gotten around so much" and he flew off in frustration. Twenty minutes later Superman was flying over a field when he saw Wonder Woman lying naked, in the middle of the field with her legs part. Superman thought to himself, "I'm faster than a speeding bullet, I can be in and out of there before she even knows it." So with a blur and a sonic boom he was down, in, and gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wonder Woman stared up into the sky with a dazed _expression. "What the hell was that??" she exclaimed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't know," said Invisible Man as he rolled off, "but my ass is killing me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2225933981425171991?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2225933981425171991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2225933981425171991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2225933981425171991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2225933981425171991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/05/superheros.html' title='Superheros'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1303416467373045877</id><published>2009-04-30T09:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:40:04.142-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>The funeral</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A funeral service is being held for a woman who has just passed away. As the pallbearers are carrying out the casket, they accidentally bump into a wall. Hearing a faint moan from inside, the woman’s husband opens the casket and finds that his wife is actually alive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She dies again, 10 years later, at which point her husband has to go through another funeral. This time when the pallbearers carry the casket toward the door, the husband yells out, "Watch out for that f*cking wall!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1303416467373045877?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1303416467373045877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1303416467373045877&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1303416467373045877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1303416467373045877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/funeral.html' title='The funeral'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2941353478869200831</id><published>2009-04-30T09:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:39:41.630-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Girls night out</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Two women friends had gone out for a Girls Night Out, and had been decidedly over-enthusiastic on the cocktails. Incredibly drunk and walking home they suddenly realized they both needed to pee. They were very near a graveyard and one of them suggested they do their business behind a headstone or something. The first woman had nothing to wipe with so she took off her panties, used them and threw them away. Her friend however was wearing an expensive underwear set and didn't want to ruin hers, but was lucky enough to salvage a large ribbon from a wreath that was on a grave and proceeded to wipe herself with it. After finishing, they made their way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the first woman's husband phones the other husband and said, "These damn girls nights out have got to stop. My wife came home last night without her panties." "That's nothing," said the other. "Mine came back with a sympathy card stuck between the cheeks of her butt that said, 'From all of us at the Fire Station, Well never forget you!'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2941353478869200831?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2941353478869200831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2941353478869200831&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2941353478869200831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2941353478869200831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/girls-night-out.html' title='Girls night out'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-6796004696902777956</id><published>2009-04-30T09:38:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:39:14.799-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Naked underneath</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; A young man moved into a new apartment on his own, and went to the lobby to put his name on his mailbox. While there, an attractive young lady came out of the apartment next to the mailboxes wearing a robe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy smiled at the young woman and she started a conversation with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they talked, her robe slipped open, and it was obvious that she had nothing else on. The poor kid broke into a sweat trying to maintain eye contact. After a few minutes, she placed her hand on his arm and said, "Let's go to my apartment, I hear someone coming."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He followed her into her apartment; she closed the door and leaned against it, allowing her robe to fall off completely. Now nude, she purred at him, "What would you say is my best feature?" Flustered and embarrassed, he finally squeaked, "It's got to be your ears!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astounded, and a little hurt she asked, "My ears? Look at these breasts; they are full and 100% natural! I work out every day! My butt is firm and solid! Look at my skin - no blemishes anywhere! How can you think that the best part of my body is my ears?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearing his throat, he stammered, "Outside, when you said you heard someone coming? That was me."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-6796004696902777956?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6796004696902777956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=6796004696902777956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6796004696902777956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6796004696902777956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/naked-underneath.html' title='Naked underneath'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1400838645805580988</id><published>2009-04-30T09:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:38:44.241-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Special Coma</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A woman was in a coma. She had been in it for months. Nurses were in her room giving her a sponge bath. One of them was washing her private area and noticed that there was a slight response on the monitor when she touched her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They tried it again and sure enough there was definite movement. They went to her husband and explained what happened, telling him, "As crazy as this sounds, maybe a little oral sex will do the trick and bring her out of the coma."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband was skeptical, but they assured him that they'd close the curtains for privacy. The husband finally agreed and went into his wife's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes the woman's monitor flat lined, no pulse, no heart rate. The nurses run back into the room. "What happened!?" they cried. The husband said, "I'm not sure - I think maybe she choked."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1400838645805580988?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1400838645805580988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1400838645805580988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1400838645805580988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1400838645805580988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/special-coma.html' title='Special Coma'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8967200460082954545</id><published>2009-04-30T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:38:16.686-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Premature Ejaculation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A man was having problems with premature ejaculation so he decided to go to the doctor. He asked the doctor what could he do to cure his problem ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In response the doctor said, "When you feel like you are getting ready to ejaculate try startling yourself". That same day the man went to the store and bought himself a starter pistol. All excited to try this suggestion out he runs home to his wife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At home his wife is in bed, naked and waiting on her husband. As the two begin, they find themselves in the '69' position. The man, moments later, feels the sudden urge to come and fires the starter pistol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The next day, the man went back to the doctor. The doctor asked, "How did it go?". The man answered, "Not that well ... when I fired the pistol my wife shit on my face, bit 3 inches off my penis and my neighbor came out of the closet with his hands in the air!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8967200460082954545?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8967200460082954545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8967200460082954545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8967200460082954545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8967200460082954545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/premature-ejaculation.html' title='Premature Ejaculation'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7927442177338882589</id><published>2009-04-27T05:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T05:34:41.372-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>Poor Donkey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A king wanted to improve the mood of his favorite donkey, who was depressed, so he put out a proclamation that he would pay anyone in the kingdom 200 gold pieces if they could make his donkey happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Many tried, all failed. Then a jester went in to see the donkey, and when he came out, the donkey was indeed happy - so happy in fact, that he was laughing heartily. The jester got the gold, but a few days passed and the king couldn''t make the donkey stop laughing. So he put out another proclamation saying he would pay 500 gold pieces to anyone who could make the donkey stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The jester returned, went in to see the donkey for a few seconds, and when he came out, the donkey was crying. The king asked the jester how he did it. The jester said, "I will tell you for another 200 gold pieces."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When the jester had received his gold, he revealed, "On my first visit, I told the donkey that my dick was bigger than his. This time I showed him."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7927442177338882589?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7927442177338882589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7927442177338882589&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7927442177338882589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7927442177338882589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/poor-donkey.html' title='Poor Donkey'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4717639423994284811</id><published>2009-04-27T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T05:34:12.567-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Viagra Side Effects</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A woman asks her husband if he'd like some breakfast. "Bacon and eggs, perhaps a slice of toast? Maybe a nice sectioned grapefruit, and a cup of fresh coffee?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He declines. "It's this Viagra," he says, "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At lunch time, she asks if he would like something. "A bowl of home made soup, maybe, with a cheese sandwich? Or how about a plate of snacks and a glass of milk?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Again he declines. "No, thanks. It's this Viagra," he says, "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At dinner time, she asks if he wants anything to eat, offering to go to the cafe and buy him a burger supper. "Or would you rather I make you a pizza from scratch? Or, how about a tasty stir fry? That'll only take a couple of minutes."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Once more, he declines. "Again, thanks, but it's this Viagra. It's really taken the edge off my appetite."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, then", she says, "Would you mind getting off me? I'm STARVING!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4717639423994284811?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4717639423994284811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4717639423994284811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4717639423994284811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4717639423994284811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/viagra-side-effects.html' title='Viagra Side Effects'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3067232043538799389</id><published>2009-04-27T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T05:33:33.340-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>Poor Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A husband, one bright sunny morning, turns to his lovely wife, "Wife, we're going fishing this weekend, you, me and the dog."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife grimaces, "But I don't like fishing!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Look! We're going fishing and that's final."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Do I have to go fishing with you... I really don't want to go!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Right I'll give you three choices... 1 You come fishing with me and the dog... 2 You give me a BLOW JOB.... 3 or you take it up the ass!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife grimaces again, "But I don't want to do any of those things!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Wife I've given you three options.. You'll HAVE to do one of them! I'm going to the garage to sort out my fishing tackle, when I come back I expect you to have made up your mind!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife sits and thinks about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Twenty minutes later her husband comes back, "Well! What have you decided? FISHING with me and the dog, BLOW JOB, or ass?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife complains some more and finally makes up her mind, "O.K. I'll give you a blow job!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Great!" He says and drops his pants. The wife is on her knees doing the business. Suddenly she stops, looks up at her Husband, "Oh! It tastes absolutely disgusting... It tastes all shitty!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Yes!" says her husband "The dog didn't want to go fishing either."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3067232043538799389?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3067232043538799389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3067232043538799389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3067232043538799389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3067232043538799389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/poor-dog.html' title='Poor Dog'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8389300373602407540</id><published>2009-04-27T05:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T05:31:43.143-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Husband'/><title type='text'>Husband, Wife and Gorilla</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's a beautiful, warm, spring morning and a man and his wife are spending the day at the zoo. She's wearing a cute, loose fitting, almost see through, pink spring dress, sleeveless with straps. The zoo is not very busy this morning and as they walk through the Ape exhibit, they pass in front of a very large, hairy gorilla. Noticing the girl, the gorilla goes ape. He jumps up on the bars, and holding on with one hand(and 2 feet), he grunts and pounds his chest with his free hand. He is obviously excited at the pretty woman in the wavy dress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The husband,noticing the excitement thinks this is funny. He suggests that his wife tease the poor fellow some more. The husband suggests she pucker her lips, wiggle her bottom at him, and play along.She does, and Mr.Gorilla gets even more excited, making noises that would wake the dead.Then the husband suggests that she let one of her straps fall to show a little more skin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She does, and Mr. Gorilla is about to tear the bars down "Now try lifting your dress up and flashing your beaver." he says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This drives the gorilla absolutely crazy, and now he's doing flips and has a hard-on like a baseball bat.Then the husband grabs his wife, rips open the door to the cage, flings her in with the gorilla and slams the cage door shut and says "Now, tell HIM you've got a f--kin' headache.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8389300373602407540?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8389300373602407540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8389300373602407540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8389300373602407540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8389300373602407540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/husband-wife-and-gorilla.html' title='Husband, Wife and Gorilla'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2640374817776172789</id><published>2009-04-25T03:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T03:24:18.623-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Superheros Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One day Superman was feeling horny. So, he began to ask his super hero friends for ideas on where he could get a bit of action. "Hey Batman! Who's good in the sack?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well Superman, everyone knows that Wonder Woman is the best sex in Comicland. Why don't you try her?" replied Batman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I'd love to, but Wonder Woman and I are friends so don't want to take advantage of her."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Damn shame," said Batman as he waved goodbye to Superman and drove off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ten minutes later Superman was flying low over a city when he saw the Green Lantern patching up a building. He flew down. "Hey Hal, I'm looking for a little action. You're a swinging bachelor; who's the best babe in Comicland?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Hey, Superman! Everyone knows that Wonder Woman is far and away the best lay in Comicland; why don't you try her?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, we're friends," Superman said, "but I didn't realize she had gotten around so much" and he flew off in frustration. Twenty minutes later Superman was flying over a field when he saw Wonder Woman lying naked, in the middle of the field with her legs part. Superman thought to himself, "I'm faster than a speeding bullet, I can be in and out of there before she even knows it." So with a blur and a sonic boom he was down, in, and gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wonder Woman stared up into the sky with a dazed _expression. "What the hell was that??" she exclaimed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't know," said Invisible Man as he rolled off, "but my ass is killing me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2640374817776172789?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2640374817776172789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2640374817776172789&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2640374817776172789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2640374817776172789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/superheros-joke.html' title='Superheros Joke'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8213721137769371514</id><published>2009-04-25T03:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T03:23:22.292-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little Johnny - Jokes'/><title type='text'>Peanut penis</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little Johnny comes home one day and says, "Mom! Little Mark next door has a penis like a peanut!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What do you mean, Johnny? Is it shaped like a peanut?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"No," says Johnny. "It's salty."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8213721137769371514?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8213721137769371514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8213721137769371514&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8213721137769371514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8213721137769371514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/peanut-penis.html' title='Peanut penis'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5183066555272924978</id><published>2009-04-25T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T03:22:05.225-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Joke'/><title type='text'>Doubt about Mahabharata</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In a remote village of India, the teacher was telling the Mahabharata story to the 6th class students. He is at the Krishna's birth part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher:"Kansa heard from the skies that his sister's 8th child was going to kill him. He was furious. He ordered to put Vasudeva and Devki behind bars. First son is born, and Kansa killed him by poisoning...Second one was born, and Kansa threw him off the mountain peak. Third one was born.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramu: I have a doubt (sounding nervous and confused).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Ramu, my dear! The whole of India doesn't have any doubt in Mahabharata, then how come you have one?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramu: Sir, if Kansa knew that Devki's 8th child was going to kill him, why the hell did he put Vasudeva and Devki in the same cell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher fainted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5183066555272924978?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5183066555272924978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5183066555272924978&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5183066555272924978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5183066555272924978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/doubt-about-mahabharata.html' title='Doubt about Mahabharata'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4630943045090958876</id><published>2009-04-25T03:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T03:20:00.495-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>A helping hand</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Harry and his wife are having hard financial times, so they decide that she'll become a hooker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She's not quite sure what to do, so Harry says, "Stand in front of that bar and pick up a guy. Tell him that you charge a hundred bucks. If you got a question, I'll be parked around the corner."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She's standing there for 5 minutes when a guy pulls up and asks, "How much?" She says, "A hundred dollars."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He says, "All I got is thirty". She says, "Hold on," and runs back to Harry and asks, "What can he get for thirty?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"A hand job", Harry reply.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She runs back and tells the guy all he gets for thirty dollar is a hand job. He agrees. She gets in the car. He unzips his pants, and out pops this HUGE ......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She stares at it for a minute, and then says, "I'll be right back." She runs back to Harry, and asks, "Can you loan this guy seventy bucks?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4630943045090958876?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4630943045090958876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4630943045090958876&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4630943045090958876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4630943045090958876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/helping-hand.html' title='A helping hand'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-205190171467666173</id><published>2009-04-23T02:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T02:52:24.209-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Adult Joke'/><title type='text'>Misunderstanding</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr. Sharma comes home one night, and his wife throws her arms around his&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;neck:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I have great news: I'm a month overdue. I think we're going to have a baby!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The doctor gave me a test today, but until we find out for sure, we can't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tell anybody."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The next day, Mrs. Sharma receives a telephone call from Reliance Energy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;because the electricity bill has not been paid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;" Am I speaking to Mrs. Sharma? "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Yes... speaking"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Reliance guy, "You're a month overdue, you know!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"How do YOU know?" stammers the young woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, ma'am, it's in our files!" says the Reliance guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What are you saying? It's in your files ...HOW?????"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;" Yes ............ . We have a system of finding out who's overdue "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;" GOD!!!!!!... ...... This is too much........ .."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Madam, I am sorry... I am following orders.... I have to inform you are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;overdue"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I know that ... let me talk to my husband about this tonight. .... He will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;speak to your company tomorrow "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That night, she tells her husband about the incident, and he, mad as a bull,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rushes to Reliance office the next day morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What's going on? You have it on file that my wife is a month overdue?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What business is that of yours?" the husband shouts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Just calm down," says the lady at the reception at Reliance, "it's nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;serious. All you have to do is pay us."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"PAY you? And if I refuse?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, in that case, sir, we'd have no option but to cut yours off."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"And what would my wife do then?" the husband asks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't know. I guess she'd have to use a candle."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-205190171467666173?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/205190171467666173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=205190171467666173&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/205190171467666173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/205190171467666173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/misunderstanding.html' title='Misunderstanding'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5510839252822318853</id><published>2009-04-23T02:50:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T02:51:28.423-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult  - SMS Jokes'/><title type='text'>What shall i do</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Girl : What shall i do, if my boy friend touches my bra&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; Mum : Say stop&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; Girl : What shall i do, If he touches panty&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; Mum : Say DONT&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; Girl : Mum! I said dont stop becauz he touched both&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5510839252822318853?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5510839252822318853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5510839252822318853&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5510839252822318853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5510839252822318853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-shall-i-do.html' title='What shall i do'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-752588092911828267</id><published>2009-04-23T02:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T02:50:41.604-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Honest Father</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A distinguished young woman on a flight from Switzerland asked the priest beside her, "Father, may I ask a favor?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Of course. What may I do for you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, I bought an expensive! Electronic hair dryer that is well over the Customs limits and I'm afraid they'll confiscate it. Is there any way you could carry it through customs for me? Under your robes perhaps?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I would love to help you, dear, but I must warn you: I will not lie."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"With your honest face, Father, no one will question you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When they got to Customs, she let the priest go ahead of her. The official asked, "Father, do you have anything to declare?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"From the top of my head down to my waist, I have nothing to declare."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The official thought this answer strange, so asked, "And what do you have to declare from your waist to the floor?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I have a marvelous little instrument designed to be used on a woman, but which is, to date, unused."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Roaring with laughter, the official said, "Go ahead, Father - - Next!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-752588092911828267?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/752588092911828267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=752588092911828267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/752588092911828267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/752588092911828267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/honest-father.html' title='Honest Father'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-9189233503068083084</id><published>2009-04-23T02:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T02:50:01.882-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Adult Joke'/><title type='text'>Akbar ke Darbar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ek baar, Akbar ke darbar mein ek randi ne mujra kiya. Woh item badi hi KANTEELI NACHANIYA thi. Itni sollid wo naachi ke sabke tatte tight ho gaye. Akbar bahut khush ho gaya. Usne randi ko kaha, "Jamnabai, bol tujhe kya inaam chahiye meri jaan? Sona-chandi, heere-moti, jaageer... kya chahiye, bol. Agar teri kisise dushmani ho to bhi bataa de... uski behen chod di jayegi."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Randi muh maange inaam ki baat sunke bahut khush hui. Par woh bahut hi bhenchod kism ki aurat thi. Uske gandu dimaag mein to kuch aur hi tha. Woh Akbar se boli, "Jahanpanah, jaan ki salaamat mile to kuch arz karoon". Akbar waise hi uske naach pe bahut senti tha. Woh bola,"Jo marzi maang, Jamna darling. Randi boli,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Jahanpanah, mujhe aapki raajgaddi pe tatti karni hai."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pehle to Akbar ko samajh hi nahin aaya ki kya yeh randi BAWLI GAAND to nahin ho gayelii hai? Lekin woh maNaa bhi nahin kar sak rella tha... chutiya promise jo kar baithella tha. Usne randi ko kuch aur maangne ke liye kaha, par randi bhi bahut shaani thi... woh nahin maani. Akbar bhi bechara kya karta, usne 15 din baad ki date de di. Usne socha ki baad mein randi pe pressure dalwa ke cancel karwa doonga, par bhen ki laudi maan hi nahi relli thi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jab Tatti-day nazdeek aa gaya , Akbar ki gaand bahut zyaada phat gayi... usne us waqt Birbal ko yaad kiya. Usne Birbal se kaha ki “Boss, ab mughal sultanat ki izzat us ke haath mein hai”. Birbal ne bhi Akbar ko promise kar diya ki chaahe usey apni maa gali-gali chudwaani pade, woh mughal sultanat ki izzat pe aanch nahin aane dega. Akbar bhi nischint ho gaya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Finally Tatti-day aa gaya. Akbar to raat bhar so bhi nahin saka. Bhenchod ki khud ki tatti band ho gayi. Subah-subah randi ne darbaar mein grand entrance maara. Kehne lagi, "Jahanpanah, main teen din se nahin hagi hoon... jaldi se raajgaddi pe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tatti karne ki vyawastha kijiye." Akbar ne phatti gaand ke saath Birbal ki taraf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dekha. Birbal to shaana hus-hi-hus rella tha. Apni seat se khada hua aur bola, "Jamnabai, tu ne tatti karne ki demand ki thi... so karo. Lekin agar ek boond bhi moot nikal aaya to yeh talwaar ****** mein ghusa ke gaand se nikaal doonga."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Randi ko samajh aa gayaki is baar uska paala kisi andu pandu se nahin, Birbal se pada hai. Bhosadiki chup-chaap apni badi gaand uthake ghar chali gayi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ek baar phir birbal the great behen ke lode ne mughal saltanet ke gaand phatne se bachali...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-9189233503068083084?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/9189233503068083084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=9189233503068083084&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/9189233503068083084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/9189233503068083084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/akbar-ke-darbar.html' title='Akbar ke Darbar'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7951011601850609719</id><published>2009-04-23T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T02:48:31.545-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>First-year students</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; First-year students at Medical School were receiving their first anatomy class with a real dead human body. They all gathered around the surgery table with the body covered with a white sheet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The professor started the class by telling them, "In medicine, it is necessary to have 2 important qualities as a doctor: The first is that you not be disgusted by anything involving the human body."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For an example, the Professor pulled back the sheet, stuck his finger in the butt of the corpse, withdrew it and stuck it in his mouth. "Go ahead and do the same thing," he told his students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The students freaked out, hesitated for several minutes, but eventually took turns sticking a finger in the butt of the dead body and licking on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everyone finished, the Professor looked at them and said, "The second most important quality is observation. I stuck in my middle finger and licked on my index finger..... Now learn to pay attention..."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7951011601850609719?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7951011601850609719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7951011601850609719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7951011601850609719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7951011601850609719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/first-year-students.html' title='First-year students'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1321229314680352772</id><published>2009-04-22T03:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T03:42:50.749-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Medical School</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First-year students at Medical School were receiving their first anatomy class with a real dead human body. They all gathered around the surgery table with the body covered with a white sheet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The professor started the class by telling them, "In medicine, it is necessary to have 2 important qualities as a doctor: The first is that you not be disgusted by anything involving the human body."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For an example, the Professor pulled back the sheet, stuck his finger in the butt of the corpse, withdrew it and stuck it in his mouth. "Go ahead and do the same thing," he told his students.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The students freaked out, hesitated for several minutes, but eventually took turns sticking a finger in the butt of the dead body and licking on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When everyone finished, the Professor looked at them and said, "The second most important quality is observation. I stuck in my middle finger and licked on my index finger..... Now learn to pay attention..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1321229314680352772?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1321229314680352772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1321229314680352772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1321229314680352772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1321229314680352772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/medical-school.html' title='Medical School'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5640436500056057145</id><published>2009-04-22T03:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T03:42:01.387-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Take Careful Aim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;A man who just got a raise decides to buy a new scope for his rifle. He goes to a rifle shop, and asks the clerk to show him a scope.&lt;br /&gt;The clerk takes out a scope, and says to the man, "This scope is so good, you can see my house all the way up on that hill."&lt;br /&gt;The man takes a look through the scope, and starts laughing.&lt;br /&gt;"What's so funny?" asks the clerk.&lt;br /&gt;"I see a naked man and a naked woman running around in the house." the man replies.&lt;br /&gt;The clerk grabs the scope from the man, and looks at his house. Then he hands two bullets to the man and says, "Here are two bullets, I'll give you this scope for nothing if you take these two bullets, shoot my wife's head off and shoot the guy's dick off."&lt;br /&gt;The man takes another look through the scope and says, "You know what? I think I can do that with one shot!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5640436500056057145?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5640436500056057145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5640436500056057145&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5640436500056057145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5640436500056057145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/take-careful-aim.html' title='Take Careful Aim'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8099603325449002990</id><published>2009-04-22T03:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T03:41:31.251-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Adult Joke'/><title type='text'>Akbar aur Birbal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ek baar, Akbar ke darbar mein ek randi ne mujra kiya. Woh item badi hi KANTEELI NACHANIYA thi. Itni sollid wo naachi ke sabke tatte tight ho gaye. Akbar bahut khush ho gaya. Usne randi ko kaha, "Jamnabai, bol tujhe kya inaam chahiye meri jaan? Sona-chandi, heere-moti, jaageer... kya chahiye, bol. Agar teri kisise dushmani ho to bhi bataa de... uski behen chod di jayegi."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Randi muh maange inaam ki baat sunke bahut khush hui. Par woh bahut hi bhenchod kism ki aurat thi. Uske gandu dimaag mein to kuch aur hi tha. Woh Akbar se boli, "Jahanpanah, jaan ki salaamat mile to kuch arz karoon". Akbar waise hi uske naach pe bahut senti tha. Woh bola,"Jo marzi maang, Jamna darling. Randi boli,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Jahanpanah, mujhe aapki raajgaddi pe tatti karni hai."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pehle to Akbar ko samajh hi nahin aaya ki kya yeh randi BAWLI GAAND to nahin ho gayelii hai? Lekin woh maNaa bhi nahin kar sak rella tha... chutiya promise jo kar baithella tha. Usne randi ko kuch aur maangne ke liye kaha, par randi bhi bahut shaani thi... woh nahin maani. Akbar bhi bechara kya karta, usne 15 din baad ki date de di. Usne socha ki baad mein randi pe pressure dalwa ke cancel karwa doonga, par bhen ki laudi maan hi nahi relli thi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jab Tatti-day nazdeek aa gaya , Akbar ki gaand bahut zyaada phat gayi... usne us waqt Birbal ko yaad kiya. Usne Birbal se kaha ki “Boss, ab mughal sultanat ki izzat us ke haath mein hai”. Birbal ne bhi Akbar ko promise kar diya ki chaahe usey apni maa gali-gali chudwaani pade, woh mughal sultanat ki izzat pe aanch nahin aane dega. Akbar bhi nischint ho gaya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Finally Tatti-day aa gaya. Akbar to raat bhar so bhi nahin saka. Bhenchod ki khud ki tatti band ho gayi. Subah-subah randi ne darbaar mein grand entrance maara. Kehne lagi, "Jahanpanah, main teen din se nahin hagi hoon... jaldi se raajgaddi pe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tatti karne ki vyawastha kijiye." Akbar ne phatti gaand ke saath Birbal ki taraf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dekha. Birbal to shaana hus-hi-hus rella tha. Apni seat se khada hua aur bola, "Jamnabai, tu ne tatti karne ki demand ki thi... so karo. Lekin agar ek boond bhi moot nikal aaya to yeh talwaar ****** mein ghusa ke gaand se nikaal doonga."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Randi ko samajh aa gayaki is baar uska paala kisi andu pandu se nahin, Birbal se pada hai. Bhosadiki chup-chaap apni badi gaand uthake ghar chali gayi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ek baar phir birbal the great behen ke lode ne mughal saltanet ke gaand phatne se bachali...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8099603325449002990?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8099603325449002990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8099603325449002990&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8099603325449002990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8099603325449002990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/akbar-aur-birbal.html' title='Akbar aur Birbal'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7497533774454098652</id><published>2009-04-22T03:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T03:40:07.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult  - SMS Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Much Noise</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Q:y do women make much noise while pissing ??????????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A:bcoz they dont have a 6-inch silencer like men !!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7497533774454098652?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7497533774454098652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7497533774454098652&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7497533774454098652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7497533774454098652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/much-noise.html' title='Much Noise'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4146071233062086030</id><published>2009-04-22T03:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T03:38:35.893-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult  - SMS Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Gaon ki gori</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaon ki gori,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lagti bholi,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;utare choli,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;panty kholi,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bed pe soli,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mujhse boli,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nikalo pichkari, khelo holi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4146071233062086030?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4146071233062086030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4146071233062086030&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4146071233062086030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4146071233062086030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/gaon-ki-gori.html' title='Gaon ki gori'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3151745587607657245</id><published>2009-04-19T01:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:34:25.712-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Young Salesman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A married woman is having an affair. Whenever her lover comes over, she puts her nine year old son in the closet. One day the woman hears a car in the driveway and puts her lover in the closet, as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Inside the closet, the little boy says, "It's dark in here, isn't it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Yes it is," the man replies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You wanna buy a baseball?" the little boy asks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"No thanks," the man replies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I think you do want to buy a baseball," the little extortionist continues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"OK. How much?" the man replies after considering the position he is in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Twenty-five dollars," the little boy replies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS?!" the man repeats incredulously, but complies to protect his hidden position.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The following week, the lover is visiting the woman again when she hears a car in the driveway and, again, places her lover in the closet with her little boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"It's dark in here, isn't it?" the boy starts off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Yes it is," replies the man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Wanna buy a baseball glove?" the little boy asks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"OK. How much?" the hiding lover responds, acknowledging his disadvantage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Fifty dollars," the boy replies and the transaction is completed..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The next weekend, the little boy's father says "Hey, son.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Go get your ball and glove and we'll play some catch."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I can't. I sold them," replies the little boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"How much did you get for them?" asks the father, expecting to hear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the profit in terms of lizards and candy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Seventy-five dollars," the little boy says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS?! That's thievery! I'm taking you to the church right now. You must confess your sin and ask for forgiveness", the father explains as he hauls the child away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At the church, the little boy goes into the confessional, draws the curtain, sits down, and says "It's dark in here, isn't it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Don't you start that crap in here," the priest says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3151745587607657245?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3151745587607657245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3151745587607657245&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3151745587607657245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3151745587607657245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/young-salesman.html' title='Young Salesman'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5973743924806614242</id><published>2009-04-19T01:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:33:36.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Viagra Wasted</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This man got his prescription for Viagra, and goes home to get ready for when his wife gets home. He calls her on the phone, and says, "I'll be home in an hour."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Perfect," she replies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The man thinks her agreement is because the Doctor told him to take his Viagra an hour before. He takes the Viagra and waits. Well, and hour goes by, the man is ready to go, but no wife?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She calls him on the phone and she says, "Traffic is terrible. I won't be there for about an hour and a half."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The man, frustrated, calls his Doctor for advice. "What should I do?" he asks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Doctor replied, "It would be a shame to waste it. Do you have a housekeeper around?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Yes" the man replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, maybe you can occupy yourself with her instead?" said the Doctor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The man then replied with dismay, "But I don't need Viagra with the housekeeper..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5973743924806614242?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5973743924806614242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5973743924806614242&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5973743924806614242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5973743924806614242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/viagra-wasted.html' title='Viagra Wasted'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7009546737423963772</id><published>2009-04-19T01:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:32:55.262-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Birth control for blondes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Did you hear about the new form of birth control for blondes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They take off their makeup.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7009546737423963772?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7009546737423963772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7009546737423963772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7009546737423963772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7009546737423963772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/birth-control-for-blondes.html' title='Birth control for blondes'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2706956620405885517</id><published>2009-04-19T01:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:32:13.278-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Stung between the first and second hole</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A young woman had been taking golf lessons all week long. She'd just begun her first game of golf when she suffered a bee sting. Her pain was so intense, she couldn't continue her game. She decided to go back to the clubhouse and get some medical attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Her golf Pro saw her enter the clubhouse and asked, "Why are you back so soon?" What's wrong?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I was stung by a bee," she answered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Where?," he asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Between the first and second holes," she replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He nodded his head knowingly and said, "Then your stance is too wide."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2706956620405885517?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2706956620405885517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2706956620405885517&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2706956620405885517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2706956620405885517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/stung-between-first-and-second-hole.html' title='Stung between the first and second hole'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-6892971148635710354</id><published>2009-04-19T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:31:46.594-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Newly married couple in hotel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After their wedding reception a newly married couple went to their hotel and asked for the honeymoon suite. "Do you have reservations?" the desk clerk asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Only one," the groom replied. "She's not into anal sex,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-6892971148635710354?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6892971148635710354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=6892971148635710354&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6892971148635710354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6892971148635710354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/newly-married-couple-in-hotel.html' title='Newly married couple in hotel'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3554432314529640493</id><published>2009-04-17T04:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T04:12:24.365-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Joke'/><title type='text'>Banta &amp; Laloo 5</title><content type='html'>After having their 11th child, Laloo &amp;amp; Rabri decided that that was enough.&lt;br /&gt;So Laloo went to his doctor and told him that he and his wife did not want&lt;br /&gt;any more children. The doctor told him that there was a procedure called&lt;br /&gt;vasectomy that could fix the problem. The doctor instructed him to go home,&lt;br /&gt;get a Diwali bomb, light it, put it in an empty Coke can, then hold the can up to his ear and count to 10. Laloo said to the doctor, "I m the smartest man in Bihar, but I don t see how putting a Diwali atom bomb in a Coke can next to my ear is going to help me with my problem."&lt;br /&gt;So the couple drove away to Delhi to get a second opinion. The Delhi physician was just about to&lt;br /&gt;tell them about the procedure for vasectomy when he noticed it was Laloo&lt;br /&gt;Yadav. This doctor told Laloo to go home and get a Diwali firecracker, light it, place it in a Coke can, hold it to his ear and count to 10. Figuring that both learned physicians knew what they were talking about and couldn t be wrong, Laloo went home, lit a Diwali firecracker and put it in a Coke can. He held it up to his ear and began counting with the fingers on his left hand: "1,2,3, 4,5.." At which point he paused, placed the coke can between his legs and resumed counting on the other hand!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3554432314529640493?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3554432314529640493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3554432314529640493&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3554432314529640493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3554432314529640493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/banta-laloo-5.html' title='Banta &amp;amp; Laloo 5'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-769403040398494269</id><published>2009-04-17T04:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T04:11:43.276-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Joke'/><title type='text'>Banta &amp; Laloo 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;        Santa goes to a bar in London for a couple of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; drinks. As he is sitting alone and drinking, he notices a sexy woman sitting in a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; corner, alone and staring at him. At first he tries to ignore her, but the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; sight of her huge boobs is still rolling in his mind and he looks at her again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Now the woman smiles back at him and Santa gets very excited.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; He gulps down a couple of neats and gathering courage goes upto her and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; says, "Excuse me...I am Santa from India. Can I sit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; here and buy you a drink?" The woman agrees and soon both of them are drinking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; away like good ole' friends. Then after everything is through Santa and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; the lady walk out of the bar. But Santa is in a great mood to screw her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Again gathering courage and slighty drunk, he asks her, "Eschcuse me, can be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; have sex tonight, please??" The lady says, "Well I don t mind, but you see I'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; on my menstrual cycle" "No problem" says Santa "you proceed in your&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; menstrual cycle, I will follow you in my Honda Accord !"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-769403040398494269?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/769403040398494269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=769403040398494269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/769403040398494269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/769403040398494269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/banta-laloo-4.html' title='Banta &amp;amp; Laloo 4'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5770412149906966992</id><published>2009-04-17T04:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T04:10:59.433-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Joke'/><title type='text'>Banta &amp; Laloo 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A lady was shopping in Delhi. Suddenly she realizes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;she is late for an appointment. She is not wearing a watch so she sees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a small shop on the roadside, goes to the shop and asks in very western&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;accent to our Santa (owner)....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What's the time?? Santa is a very patriotic man and hates English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;accent while speaking.. So he replies back in the same accent........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bra-panties!! Confused the lady asks again.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;No! No! What's the time?? Santa again answers back..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bra-panties!! Bra-panties!! Seeing the confusion going between the two another&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;man comes to the rescue of the lady and says.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O papaji tusi samajh nahin paaye!! Kudi twade kol time puuch rahii hai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;gayee!! Angry Santa shots back at him......... Tow main bhi to oonoo time hee das rahan hai barah panthis(12:35)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5770412149906966992?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5770412149906966992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5770412149906966992&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5770412149906966992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5770412149906966992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/banta-laloo-3.html' title='Banta &amp;amp; Laloo 3'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-6601162678110008598</id><published>2009-04-17T04:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T04:09:58.346-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Joke'/><title type='text'>Banta &amp; Laloo 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Default&lt;br /&gt;One evening Santa and Banta were arguing over which&lt;br /&gt;of them can have sex the most times in one night. They decide to settle the&lt;br /&gt;issue by going to the local whorehouse and gathering experimental evidence, as it were.&lt;br /&gt;So they get to the whorehouse, pair off with a couple of the ladies, and go&lt;br /&gt;to their respective rooms. Banta energetically balls his whore and, reaching&lt;br /&gt;up with a pencil, makes a "| " mark on the wall.&lt;br /&gt;Then he falls asleep. He wakes up in a couple of hours and screws the&lt;br /&gt;whore again, a little less enthusiastically this time. Again, he reaches back&lt;br /&gt;and marks a " | " on the wall. Again, he falls asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Banta wakes up again in a couple of hours and&lt;br /&gt;lethargically humps the hooker again. He drowsily marks another " | " on the wall&lt;br /&gt;and falls asleep for the rest of the night. The next morning, Santa enters into Banta's room to&lt;br /&gt;see how he did. He takes&lt;br /&gt;ne look at the wall and exclaims, "A hundred and&lt;br /&gt;eleven?! You beat me by three!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-6601162678110008598?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6601162678110008598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=6601162678110008598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6601162678110008598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6601162678110008598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/banta-laloo-2.html' title='Banta &amp;amp; Laloo 2'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1514018903686696733</id><published>2009-04-17T04:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T04:08:43.968-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Joke'/><title type='text'>Banta &amp; Laloo 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Once Banta and his girl friend were fighting over who was a better at thinking better. They both decided to think for a minute and present their thoughts a minute later Banta presented a poem - Two plus Two is Four plus five is nine. I can pee in yours but u can't pee in mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;His girl friend said 'oh yeah' and equaled Banta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Two plus Two is four plus five is nine. I can know the length of yours but u can't know the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;depth of mine!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1514018903686696733?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1514018903686696733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1514018903686696733&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1514018903686696733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1514018903686696733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/banta-laloo-1.html' title='Banta &amp;amp; Laloo 1'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1249034561790323564</id><published>2009-04-17T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T04:07:26.006-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clean Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hindi Joke'/><title type='text'>Banta &amp; Laloo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Banta was recruited as a salesman in a music shop where musicrecords, gramophones etc. were sold. The proprietor, at the time of interview, had instructed him that if any customer asked for any item which was not in the stock, he should suggest for an alternative instead of refusing the demand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One day a pretty young girl of 18 entered the shop and asked Banta, " Mr. have you got TWO LIPS &amp;amp; SEVEN KISSES ?" The record was not in the stock hence Banta suggested," No madam, I have not got two lips and seven kisses but I have got TWO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BALLS AND SEVEN INCHES." The girl exclaimed," Is it a record?" Salesman answered," No madam, it s quite NORMAL."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1249034561790323564?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1249034561790323564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1249034561790323564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1249034561790323564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1249034561790323564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/banta-laloo.html' title='Banta &amp;amp; Laloo'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3805813593739896930</id><published>2009-04-16T00:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:49:53.191-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Husband reading book and fondling his wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A married couple is lying in bed one night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife is curled up, ready to go to sleep, and the husband turns his bed lamp on to read a book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;As he's reading, he periodically reaches over to his wife and fondles her special bits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He does this a few times, but only for a very short interval before returning to read his book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife gradually becomes more and more aroused and, assuming that her husband is seeking some encouragement before going further, gets up and starts stripping in front of him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The husband is confused and asks, Why are you taking off your clothes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;His wife replies, You were rubbing me downtown. I thought it was foreplay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The husband says, No, not at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;His wife asks angrily, Well, what the hell were you doing then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was just wetting my fingers so I could turn the pages in my book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3805813593739896930?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3805813593739896930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3805813593739896930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3805813593739896930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3805813593739896930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/husband-reading-book-and-fondling-his.html' title='Husband reading book and fondling his wife'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3595672542180235332</id><published>2009-04-16T00:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:48:57.126-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>The Top 5 Gay Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. "Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a police officer! Besides, the Village People already HAVE a cop!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. "All right, who's been running the gladiator program on the holodeck again?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. "Orion slave girl, Orion slave guy -- who cares? I'm getting me some green ass!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. "Sorry, ensign -- I didn't mean to go quite so boldly."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and the Number 1 Gay "Star Trek" Quote...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. "Impressive, gentlemen, but that's not what I meant when I said I needed to see Bones."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3595672542180235332?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3595672542180235332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3595672542180235332&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3595672542180235332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3595672542180235332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/top-5-gay-star.html' title='The Top 5 Gay Star'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-133571104398729314</id><published>2009-04-16T00:47:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:48:24.307-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food Jokes'/><title type='text'>Italian French and Aussie guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Italian says, “When I’ve a finisheda makina da love with my girlfriend I go down and gently tickle the back of her kneesa, she floatsa 6 inches abovea da bed in ecstasy”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Frenchman replies, “Zat is nothing, when Ah 'ave finished making ze love with ze girlfriend, Ah kiss all ze way down her body and zen Ah lick zer soles of her feet wiz mah tongue and she floats 12 inches above ze bed in pure ecstasy”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Aussie says, “Mate, that’s nothing. When I’ve finished shaggin me sheila, I get out of bed, walk over to the window and wipe me dick on the curtains. And MATE ….. She hits the fucking roof. GO THE AUSSIES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-133571104398729314?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/133571104398729314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=133571104398729314&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/133571104398729314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/133571104398729314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/italian-french-and-aussie-guy.html' title='Italian French and Aussie guy'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8584721030525445321</id><published>2009-04-16T00:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:47:49.417-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Three priests and sexy woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Three priests were in a railroad station on their way home to Pittsburgh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Behind the ticket counter was a very sexy, shapely, well endowed woman wearing a very tight, skimpy sweater.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She made the three priests very nervous, so they drew straws to determine who would get the tickets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The first priest approached the window. "Young lady, I would like three pickets to titsburg." He completely lost his composure and fled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The second priest goes to the window. "Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburgh and I would like the change in nipples and dimes."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mortified, he too fled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Morons...." the third priest mutters and moves to the window. "Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburgh and I would like the change in nickels and dimes. And, if you insist on dressing like that, when you get to the pearly gates, St. Finger's going to shake his Peter at you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They took the bus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8584721030525445321?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8584721030525445321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8584721030525445321&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8584721030525445321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8584721030525445321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/three-priests-and-sexy-woman.html' title='Three priests and sexy woman'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-720019938345507823</id><published>2009-04-16T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T00:47:18.223-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Teacher playing name</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A teacher playing a game of name that animal with her class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eddie's first-grade class was having a game of Name That Animal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The teacher held up a picture of a cat and asked, "What animal is this?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"A cat!" said Suzy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Good job! Now, what's this animal?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"A dog!" said Ricky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Good! Now what animal is this?" she asked, holding up a picture of a deer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The class fell silent. After a couple of minutes, the teacher said, "It's what your mom calls your dad."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"A horny bastard!" called out Eddie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-720019938345507823?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/720019938345507823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=720019938345507823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/720019938345507823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/720019938345507823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/teacher-playing-name.html' title='Teacher playing name'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-29718837618816878</id><published>2009-04-14T06:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T06:58:45.681-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Why Mahendra Singh Dhoni has no girlfriends</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Question. Why Mahendra Singh Dhoni has no girlfriends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer. Kyunki Sabko pata hai ki woh roz 2 litre doodh pita hai, ab kaun si ladki itna risk legi!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-29718837618816878?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/29718837618816878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=29718837618816878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/29718837618816878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/29718837618816878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-mahendra-singh-dhoni-has-no.html' title='Why Mahendra Singh Dhoni has no girlfriends'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4858468987358169446</id><published>2009-04-14T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T06:57:30.308-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>My Private Part Died</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;An old man, Mr. Wallace, was living the last of his life in a nursing home. One day he appeared to be very sad and depressed. Nurse Tracy asked if there was anything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Nurse Tracy," said Mr. Wallace, "My Private Part died today, and I am very sad."&lt;br /&gt;Knowing her patients were forgetful and sometimes a little crazy, she replied, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Wallace, please accept my condolences."&lt;br /&gt;The following day, Mr. Wallace was walking down the hall with his Private Part hanging out his pajamas, when he met Nurse Tracy.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Wallace," she said, "You shouldn't be walking down the hall like that. Please put your Private Part back inside your pajamas."&lt;br /&gt;But, Nurse Tracy," replied Mr. Wallace, "I told you yesterday that my Private Part died."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, you did tell me that, but why is is hanging out of your pajamas?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, he replied, "Today's the viewing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4858468987358169446?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4858468987358169446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4858468987358169446&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4858468987358169446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4858468987358169446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-private-part-died.html' title='My Private Part Died'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8405609307490955412</id><published>2009-04-14T06:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T06:53:59.165-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Why bicycles are better than Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bicycles don't get pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can ride your Bicycle any time of the month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't have parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't whine unless something is really wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can share your Bicycle with your friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't care how many other Bicycles you've ridden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When riding, you and your Bicycle can arrive at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't care how many other Bicycles you have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't care if you look at other Bicycles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't care if you buy Bicycle magazines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll never hear, "Surprise, you are going to own a new Bicycle" unless you go out to buy one yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your Bicycle goes flat you can fix it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your Bicycle is too loose you can tighten it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your Bicycle is misaligned, you don't have to discuss politics with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to be jealous of the guy who works on your Bicycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you say bad things to your Bicycle, you don't have to apologize before you ride it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can ride your Bicycle as long as you want and it won't get sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can stop riding your Bicycle as soon as you want and it won't get frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your parents won't remain in touch with your old bicycle after you dump it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't get headaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't insult you if you're a bad rider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Bicycle never wants a night out with the other Bicycles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles don't care if you're late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to take a shower before you ride your bicycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your Bicycle doesn't look good you can paint it or get better parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can ride your Bicycle the first time you meet it, without having to take it to dinner, see a movie, or meet its mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only protection you have to wear when riding your Bicycle is a decent helmet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in mixed company, you can talk about what a great ride you had the last time you were on your Bicycle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8405609307490955412?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8405609307490955412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8405609307490955412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8405609307490955412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8405609307490955412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-bicycles-are-better-than-women.html' title='Why bicycles are better than Women'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7039867847609597588</id><published>2009-04-14T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T06:52:27.053-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Couple having sex</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A man and a woman started to have sex in the middle of a dark forest. After about 15 minutes of it, the man finally gets up and says, "Damn, I wish I had a flashlight!". The woman says, "Me too, you've been eating grass for the past ten minutes!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7039867847609597588?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7039867847609597588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7039867847609597588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7039867847609597588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7039867847609597588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/couple-having-sex.html' title='Couple having sex'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1064880753208753759</id><published>2009-04-14T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T06:50:56.290-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult Jokes'/><title type='text'>Three sisters at home with their hubbies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three sisters wanted to get married, but their parents couldn't afford it so they had all of them on the same day. They also couldn't afford to go on a honeymoon so they all stayed home with their new hubbies. That night the mother got up because she couldn't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;When she went past her oldest daughter's room she heard screaming. Then she went to her second daughters room and she heard laughing. Then she went to her youngest daughter's room and she couldn't hear anything.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning when the men left the mother asked her oldest daughter, "Why were you screaming last night?" The daughter replied "Mom you always told me if something hurt I should scream."&lt;br /&gt;"That's true." She looked at her second daughter. "Why were you laughing so much last night?"&lt;br /&gt;The daughter replied "Mom you always said that if something tickled you should laugh."&lt;br /&gt;"That's also true." Then the mother looked at her youngest daughter. "Why was it so quiet in your room last night?"&lt;br /&gt;The youngest daughter replied "Mom you always told me I should never talk with my mouth full."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1064880753208753759?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1064880753208753759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1064880753208753759&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1064880753208753759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1064880753208753759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/three-sisters-at-home-with-their.html' title='Three sisters at home with their hubbies'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5140004242714776269</id><published>2009-04-13T04:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T04:21:42.908-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SMS Jokes'/><title type='text'>Relation Between Men &amp; Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Relation Between Men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;Women As On Now Days :-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Can Touch Each Other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But You Cannot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Touch Each Other’s Mobiles &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5140004242714776269?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5140004242714776269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5140004242714776269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5140004242714776269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5140004242714776269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/relation-between-men-women.html' title='Relation Between Men &amp; Women'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2477331931944823427</id><published>2009-04-13T04:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T04:21:02.535-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SMS Jokes'/><title type='text'>larkiyan bhi ajeeb hoti hain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sardar: larkiyan bhi ajeeb hoti hain. baat karo to thappar marti hain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pathan: yehi to tum na patay ka baat kia, larka acha hota hai &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2477331931944823427?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2477331931944823427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2477331931944823427&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2477331931944823427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2477331931944823427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/larkiyan-bhi-ajeeb-hoti-hain.html' title='larkiyan bhi ajeeb hoti hain'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1955159393232672941</id><published>2009-04-13T04:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T04:20:18.694-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SMS Jokes'/><title type='text'>Tum larki se bhi khubsurat ho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tum chand se khobsorat ho sitaron se poch lo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tum pholon se khobsorat ho bharon se poch lo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tum larki se bhi khubsurat ho&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;Pathano&lt;br /&gt;se poch lo..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1955159393232672941?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1955159393232672941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1955159393232672941&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1955159393232672941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1955159393232672941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/tum-larki-se-bhi-khubsurat-ho.html' title='Tum larki se bhi khubsurat ho'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4984506386131699419</id><published>2009-04-13T04:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T04:08:00.377-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adult  - SMS Jokes'/><title type='text'>Pahle pehan to lo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saali- Mini skirt me jijaji k paas aakar kehthi hai: Jiju dekhiye to, jukne se meri panty dikhthi he kya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jija: Pahle pehan to lo, phir dikhana.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4984506386131699419?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4984506386131699419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4984506386131699419&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4984506386131699419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4984506386131699419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/pahle-pehan-to-lo.html' title='Pahle pehan to lo'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2927432035593450754</id><published>2009-04-13T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T04:06:31.779-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SMS Jokes'/><title type='text'>The naughty wind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The naughty wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That blows the girl’s skirt high&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the nature is clever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sends dust with the wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To close the boy’s eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2927432035593450754?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2927432035593450754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2927432035593450754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2927432035593450754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2927432035593450754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/naughty-wind_13.html' title='The naughty wind'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2137889774042183113</id><published>2009-04-12T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T01:44:16.747-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>Why did the pigs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why did the pigs cross the road with their laundry?&lt;br /&gt;They wanted to do their hogwash.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2137889774042183113?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2137889774042183113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2137889774042183113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2137889774042183113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2137889774042183113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-did-pigs.html' title='Why did the pigs'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-395809149776424507</id><published>2009-04-12T01:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T01:43:24.550-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>Why did the chicken</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why did the chicken cross the muddy road and not come back?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Because he didn't want to be a dirty double-crosser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-395809149776424507?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/395809149776424507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=395809149776424507&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/395809149776424507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/395809149776424507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-did-chicken.html' title='Why did the chicken'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1601479922025496985</id><published>2009-04-12T01:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T01:42:16.280-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>There was an elderly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There was an elderly lady who lived by herself. She decided that it would be nice to have a talking parrot to keep her company. So the elderly lady went to the pet store and the owner of the store asked her how much she wished to spend. She was on Social Security so she had only $20.00 to spend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The owner sadly informed the lady that there was no way she could buy a talking parrot for only $20.00. "But, there is a possibility!" he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And the store owner brought out a black myna bird on a perch, and said, "You can have this myna bird for $20, but he only speaks one phrase, all he can say is 'WHO IS IT?'...that's the limit of his vocabulary."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The lady was ecstatic. She paid the $20, and took the bird home. When she got home, she placed the perch near the front door and went out to get a cage and some birdseed, and other items she thought her new companion might like. After the lady drove off, the man from the butcher shop showed up with his weekly delivery. He knocked on the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?" shrieked the myna bird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"It's the butcher!" said the man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?" repeated the bird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Lady, it's the butcher!"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Lady, it's the butcher!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(now exasperated beyond limit) "Lady! I said it's the G@$$a&amp;amp;&amp;amp;ed butcher!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then the man suffers a heart attack, and falls dead face onto the ground in front of the front door. The lady returns from her shopping and sees the dead body, she opens the door and says "Oh my god! Who is it?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;...and the myna bird promptly says, "It's the butcher!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1601479922025496985?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1601479922025496985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1601479922025496985&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1601479922025496985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1601479922025496985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/there-was-elderly.html' title='There was an elderly'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-6993919870800538902</id><published>2009-04-12T01:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T01:41:25.406-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>The mail carrier had a registered letter that needed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The mail carrier had a registered letter that needed a signature for a party on his route. Receiving no response to his knock on the front door, he went around to the back door which he found open, except for the screen door. He knocked. A high pitch voice from inside said, "Come in."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Upon entering the kitchen, he was confronted by the largest German Shepard he had ever seen. The dog bared his fangs menacingly, forcing the mail man against the wall. The mail man shouted, "Lady, call off you dog before he eats me alive." The only response he got was that same high pitch voice coming from the next room saying, "Come in."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pressing his body against the wall, he slowly worked his way to the door way leading to the next room. Looking around, he saw the room was empty, except for a parrot in a cage. After the threat from the huge dog, he was becoming quite irate and said to the parrot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Darn you, don't you know any words besides 'Come in?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Without a moments hesitation the parrot responded, "Sic him!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-6993919870800538902?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/6993919870800538902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=6993919870800538902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6993919870800538902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/6993919870800538902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/mail-carrier-had-registered-letter-that.html' title='The mail carrier had a registered letter that needed'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-4850514573880504389</id><published>2009-04-10T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T06:25:04.270-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>Does Your Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;See how many yes answers apply to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you select your friends based on how well your cats like them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Does your desire to collect cats intensify during times of stress?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you buy more than 50 pounds of cat litter a month?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you think it's cute when your cat swings on your drapes or licks your butter?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you admit to non-cat owners how many cats you really have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you sleep in the same position all night because it annoys your cats when you move?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you kiss your cat on the whiskers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you feed your cat tidbits from the table with your fork?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Does your cat sleep on your head?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you like it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have more than four opened but rejected cans of cat food in the refrigerator?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you watch bad TV because the cat is sleeping on the remote?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Will you stand at the open door indefinitely in the freezing rain while your cat sniffs the door, deciding whether to go out or come in?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Would you rather spend a night at home with your cat than go out on a bad date?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you put off making the bed until the cat gets up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you give your cat presents and a stocking at Christmas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-4850514573880504389?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/4850514573880504389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=4850514573880504389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4850514573880504389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/4850514573880504389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/does-your-cat.html' title='Does Your Cat'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-3298436843930864528</id><published>2009-04-10T06:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T06:23:54.707-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>There was an elderly lady</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There was an elderly lady who lived by herself. She decided that it would be nice to have a talking parrot to keep her company. So the elderly lady went to the pet store and the owner of the store asked her how much she wished to spend. She was on Social Security so she had only $20.00 to spend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The owner sadly informed the lady that there was no way she could buy a talking parrot for only $20.00. "But, there is a possibility!" he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And the store owner brought out a black myna bird on a perch, and said, "You can have this myna bird for $20, but he only speaks one phrase, all he can say is 'WHO IS IT?'...that's the limit of his vocabulary."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The lady was ecstatic. She paid the $20, and took the bird home. When she got home, she placed the perch near the front door and went out to get a cage and some birdseed, and other items she thought her new companion might like. After the lady drove off, the man from the butcher shop showed up with his weekly delivery. He knocked on the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?" shrieked the myna bird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"It's the butcher!" said the man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?" repeated the bird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Lady, it's the butcher!"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Lady, it's the butcher!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(now exasperated beyond limit) "Lady! I said it's the G@$$a&amp;amp;&amp;amp;ed butcher!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Who is it!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then the man suffers a heart attack, and falls dead face onto the ground in front of the front door. The lady returns from her shopping and sees the dead body, she opens the door and says "Oh my god! Who is it?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;...and the myna bird promptly says, "It's the butcher!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-3298436843930864528?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/3298436843930864528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=3298436843930864528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3298436843930864528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/3298436843930864528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/there-was-elderly-lady.html' title='There was an elderly lady'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-5983692961206806734</id><published>2009-04-10T06:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T06:21:56.669-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>The mail carrier</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The mail carrier had a registered letter that needed a signature for a party on his route. Receiving no response to his knock on the front door, he went around to the back door which he found open, except for the screen door. He knocked. A high pitch voice from inside said, "Come in."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Upon entering the kitchen, he was confronted by the largest German Shepard he had ever seen. The dog bared his fangs menacingly, forcing the mail man against the wall. The mail man shouted, "Lady, call off you dog before he eats me alive." The only response he got was that same high pitch voice coming from the next room saying, "Come in."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pressing his body against the wall, he slowly worked his way to the door way leading to the next room. Looking around, he saw the room was empty, except for a parrot in a cage. After the threat from the huge dog, he was becoming quite irate and said to the parrot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Darn you, don't you know any words besides 'Come in?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Without a moments hesitation the parrot responded, "Sic him!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-5983692961206806734?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/5983692961206806734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=5983692961206806734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5983692961206806734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/5983692961206806734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/mail-carrier.html' title='The mail carrier'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7396161429978134623</id><published>2009-04-10T06:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T06:19:58.461-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>On reaching his plane seat a man is surprised</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On reaching his plane seat a man is surprised to see a parrot strapped in next to him. He asks the stewardess for a coffee where upon the parrot squawks "And get me a whisky you cow!" The stewardess, flustered, brings back a whisky for the parrot and forgets the coffee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When this omission is pointed out to her the parrot drains its glass and bawls "And get me another whisky you bitch". Quite upset, the girl comes back shaking with another whisky but still no coffee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Unaccustomed to such slackness the man tries the parrot's approach "I've asked you twice for a coffee, go and get it now or I'll kick your ass".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Next moment both he and the parrot have been wrenched up and thrown out of the emergency exit by two burly stewards. Plunging downwards the parrot turns to him and says "For someone who can't fly you're a lippy son-of-a-gun!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7396161429978134623?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7396161429978134623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7396161429978134623&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7396161429978134623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7396161429978134623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-reaching-his-plane-seat-man-is.html' title='On reaching his plane seat a man is surprised'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8140078715646808698</id><published>2009-04-10T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T06:18:59.742-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>An avid duck hunter was in the market</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;An avid duck hunter was in the market for a new bird dog. His search ended when he found a dog that could actually walk on water to retrieve a duck. Shocked by his find, he was sure none of his friends would ever believe him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He decided to try to break the news to a friend of his, a pessimist by nature, and invited him to hunt with him and his new dog. As they waited by the shore, a flock of ducks flew by. They fired, and a duck fell. The dog responded and jumped into the water. The dog, however, did not sink but instead walked across the water to retrieve the bird, never getting more than his paws wet. The friend saw everything but did not say a single word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On the drive home the hunter asked his friend, "Did you notice anything unusual about my new dog?" "I sure did," responded his friend. "He can't swim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8140078715646808698?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8140078715646808698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8140078715646808698&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8140078715646808698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8140078715646808698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/avid-duck-hunter-was-in-market.html' title='An avid duck hunter was in the market'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-2880629761717612312</id><published>2009-04-09T03:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T03:25:35.360-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A guy with a Doberman Pinscher and a guy with a Chihuahua</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A guy with a Doberman Pinscher and a guy with a Chihuahua decide to go to a restaurant and get something to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy with the Chihuahua says, "We can't go in there. We've got dogs with us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy with the Doberman Pinscher replies, "Just follow my lead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They walk over to the restaurant, the guy with the Doberman Pinscher puts on a pair of dark glasses, and he starts to walk in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, Sir. No pets allowed," announces the door man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy with the Doberman Pinscher says, "You don't understand. This is my seeing-eye dog."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door man inquires, "A Doberman Pinscher?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He responds, "Yes, they're using them now, they're very good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door man says, "Come on in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy with the Chihuahua thinks, "What the heck," so he puts on a pair of dark glasses and starts to walk in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, pal, no pets allowed," announces the door man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy with the Chihuahua says, "You don't understand. This is my seeing-eye dog."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door man inquires, "A Chihuahua?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy with the Chihuahua replies, "You mean they gave me a Chihuahua?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-2880629761717612312?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/2880629761717612312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=2880629761717612312&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2880629761717612312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/2880629761717612312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/guy-with-doberman-pinscher-and-guy-with.html' title='A guy with a Doberman Pinscher and a guy with a Chihuahua'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7687288967696583954</id><published>2009-04-09T03:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T03:25:04.390-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A police dog responds to an ad for</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A police dog responds to an ad for work with the FBI. "Well," says the personnel director, "you'll have to meet some strict requirements. First, you must type at least 60 words per minute." Sitting down at the typewriter, the dog types out 80 words per minute. "Also," says the director, "you must pass a physical and complete the obstacle course." This perfect canine specimen finishes the course in record time. "There's one last requirement," the director continues; "you must be bilingual." With confidence, the dog looks up at him and says, "Meow!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7687288967696583954?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7687288967696583954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7687288967696583954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7687288967696583954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7687288967696583954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/police-dog-responds-to-ad-for.html' title='A police dog responds to an ad for'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1484672277777900095</id><published>2009-04-09T03:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T03:24:40.595-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A man goes into a pet shop to buy a parrot</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A man goes into a pet shop to buy a parrot. The shop owner points to three identical-looking parrots on a perch and says, "The parrot on the left costs $500." "Why does the parrot cost so much?" asks the customer. The owner says "Well, the parrot knows how to do legal research."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The customer then asks about the next parrot, to be told that this one costs $1,000 because it can do everything the other parrot can do plus it knows how to write a brief that will win any case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, the increasingly startled customer asks about the third parrot, to be told that it costs $4,000. Needless to say, this begs the question, "What can it do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which the owner replies, "To be honest, I've never seen her do a thing, but the other two call her Senior Partner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1484672277777900095?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1484672277777900095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1484672277777900095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1484672277777900095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1484672277777900095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/man-goes-into-pet-shop-to-buy-parrot.html' title='A man goes into a pet shop to buy a parrot'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7592812765315322548</id><published>2009-04-09T03:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T03:24:11.262-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A young man's mother was now living</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A young man's mother was now living in Miami Beach and he didn't see her that often. His father was no longer around and he was worried that his mom was lonely. For her birthday, he purchased a rare parrot, trained to speak seven languages. He had a courier deliver the bird to his dear mother. A few days later, he called.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Ma, what do you think of the bird?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The bird was good, but a little tough. I should have cooked it longer."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You ate the bird? Ma, the bird was very expensive. It spoke seven languages!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Oh, excuse me. But, if the bird was so smart, why didn't it say something when I put it in the oven?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7592812765315322548?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7592812765315322548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7592812765315322548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7592812765315322548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7592812765315322548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/young-mans-mother-was-now-living.html' title='A young man&apos;s mother was now living'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-944345295035927779</id><published>2009-04-09T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T03:23:45.508-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A few days before Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A few days before Christmas, a man enters a pet store looking for a unique gift for his wife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The store manager tells him he has just what he's looking for; a beautiful parrot named Chet that sings Christmas carols. He brings the husband over to a colorful but quiet bird. The man agrees that Chet certainly is pretty, but he doesn't seem to be much for singing. The manager tells him to watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The manager then clicks the lighter and holds it under Chet's left foot. Immediately Chet starts singing; "Silent Night, Holy Night." The husband is very impressed with Chet's singing abilities and watches as the manager moves the lighter underneath Chet's right foot. Chet now starts to sing "Jingle Bells, Jingle All the Way." The husband says Chet is perfect and that he'll take him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The husband rushes home to his wife and insists upon giving her this wonderful gift immediately. He presents Chet and starts to explain the parrot's special talent. Demonstrating, he holds a lighter under Chet's left foot and the bird sings "Silent Night." He then moves the lighter under the right foot and Chet lets loose a round of "Jingle Bells."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The wife is absolutely impressed, and with a mischievous grin asks her husband what happens if he holds the lighter between Chet's legs instead. Curious the husband moves the lighter between the bird's legs, and the bird begins to sing---&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chet's Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-944345295035927779?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/944345295035927779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=944345295035927779&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/944345295035927779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/944345295035927779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/few-days-before-christmas.html' title='A few days before Christmas'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-7223622233406813566</id><published>2009-04-08T06:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T06:12:24.141-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A lady is walking down the street to</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A lady is walking down the street to work and she sees a parrot in a pet store. The parrot says to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly." Well, the lady is furious! And she storms past the store to her work. On the way home she saw the same parrot in the window and the parrot said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly." Well, she was incredibly ticked now. The next day see saw the same parrot and the parrot said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly." The lady was so ticked that she went into the store and said that she would sue the store and kill the bird. The store manager said, "That's not good." and promised he wouldn't say it again. When the lady walked past the store after work the parrot said to her, "Hey lady." She paused and said, "Yes?" and the bird said, "You know."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-7223622233406813566?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/7223622233406813566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=7223622233406813566&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7223622233406813566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/7223622233406813566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/lady-is-walking-down-street-to.html' title='A lady is walking down the street to'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-159599033200518402</id><published>2009-04-08T06:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T06:11:52.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A magician on a cruise liner had a parrot,</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A magician on a cruise liner had a parrot, who'd seen all the magician's tricks a jillion times, long ago having figured out how the magician made everything in the act disappear. The parrot got bored, his owner growing stale and not developing any new tricks that the parrot could figure out. One night in the middle of the magician's performance, the ship hit an iceberg and sank. Everyone drowned except the magician and the parrot. The magician managed to swim to a piece of wreckage and climb aboard, immediately collapsing from exhaustion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Soon afterward, the parrot flew to the magician and perched on the edge of the makeshift raft and stared at the magician. And stared. And stared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For a whole day the magician was unconscious, and all this time the parrot didn't take his eyes off him. Eventually the magician started to stir. Looking up, he saw the parrot, still eyeing him intently, not even blinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Another hour goes by, and finally the parrot squawks, "All right, I give up. What did you do with the ship?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-159599033200518402?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/159599033200518402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=159599033200518402&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/159599033200518402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/159599033200518402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/magician-on-cruise-liner-had-parrot.html' title='A magician on a cruise liner had a parrot,'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-1363865047073188777</id><published>2009-04-08T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T06:11:17.122-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A young man was delighted to finally</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A young man was delighted to finally be asked home to meet the parents of the young woman he'd been seeing for some time. He was quite nervous about the meeting, though, and by the time he arrived punctually at the doorstep he was in a state of gastric distress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The problem developed into one of acute flatulence, and halfway through the canap?s the young man realized he couldn't hold it in one second longer without exploding. A tiny fart escaped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"SPOT!" called out the young woman's mother to the family dog, lying at the young man's feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Relieved at the dog's having been blamed, the young man let another, slightly larger one go. "Spot!" she called out sharply. "I've got it made," thought the fellow to himself. One more and I'll feel fine. So he let loose a really big one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Spot!" shrieked the mother. "Get over here before he shits on you!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-1363865047073188777?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/1363865047073188777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=1363865047073188777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1363865047073188777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/1363865047073188777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/young-man-was-delighted-to-finally.html' title='A young man was delighted to finally'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8856777849413047326</id><published>2009-04-08T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T06:10:24.329-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>A couple buys this cute little dog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A couple buys this cute little dog. They take him home and two days later the dog becomes very lazy. It won't eat, doesn't bark, heck it doesn't even move at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So the couple decides to take the dog to the Vet. The Vet looks at the dog and then lays it on the floor. He then brings a cat into the room and sets it beside the dog. The cat crawls all over the dog for several minutes and then runs around the dog four times before the Vet picks up the cat and puts him back in his cage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Vet then turns to the couple and says, "I'm sorry to tell you this, but your dog is dead... That'll be $225.00."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"$225.00?," screamed the outraged man. "You expect me to pay you that much just to tell me my dog is dead?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Vet replied, "It's only $25.00 for the office visit and $200.00 for the Cat Scan."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8856777849413047326?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8856777849413047326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8856777849413047326&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8856777849413047326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8856777849413047326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/couple-buys-this-cute-little-dog.html' title='A couple buys this cute little dog.'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-8808844393666749227</id><published>2009-04-08T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T06:09:49.905-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Jokes'/><title type='text'>Did you hear about the new dog cross-breeds?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Collie and a Lhasa Apso. The new breed is a Collapso, a dog that folds up for easy transport.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Spitz and a Chow-Chow. The new breed is a Spitz-Chow, a dog that throws up a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Pointer and a Setter. The new breed is a Poinsetter, a traditional Christmas pet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Great Pyrenees and a Dachshund. The new breed is a Pyradachs, a puzzling breed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Pekingese and a Lhasa Apso. The new breed is Peekasso, an abstract dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Irish Water Spaniel and a English Springer Spaniel. The new breed is a Irish Springer, a dog fresh and clean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Labrador Retriever and a Curly Coated Retriever. The new breed is a Lab Coat Retriever, the choice of laboratory researchers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Newfoundland and a Basset Hound. The new breed is a Newfound Asset Hound, a dog for financial advisors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Bloodhound and a Labrador. The new breed is a Blabador, a dog that barks incessantly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Malamute and a Pointer. The new breed is a Moot Point, owned by....oh, well, it doesn't really matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Collie and a Malamute. The new breed is a Commute, a dog that travels to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Deerhound and a Terrier. The new breed is a Derriere, a dog that's true to the end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They crossed a Bull Terrier and a ShihTzu. The new breed is a uhh, I'll get back to you on that.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-8808844393666749227?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/8808844393666749227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=8808844393666749227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8808844393666749227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/8808844393666749227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/did-you-hear-about-new-dog-cross-breeds.html' title='Did you hear about the new dog cross-breeds?'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-576613322770706553</id><published>2009-04-08T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T06:08:30.205-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bar jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating Jokes'/><title type='text'>A very shy guy goes into a bar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A very shy guy goes into a bar and sees a beautiful woman sitting at the bar. After an hour of gathering up his courage he finally goes over to her and asks, tentatively, "Um, would you mind if I chatted with you for a while?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She responds by yelling, at the top of her lungs, "No, I won't sleep with you tonight!" Everyone in the bar is now staring at them. Naturally, the guy is hopelessly and completely embarrassed and he slinks back to his table.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After a few minutes, the woman walks over to him and apologizes. She smiles at him and says, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. You see, I'm a graduate student in psychology and I'm studying how people respond to embarrassing situations."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To which he responds, at the top of his lungs, "What do you mean $200?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-576613322770706553?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/576613322770706553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=576613322770706553&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/576613322770706553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/576613322770706553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/very-shy-guy-goes-into-bar.html' title='A very shy guy goes into a bar'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-140870553857870356</id><published>2009-04-07T02:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T02:59:43.500-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating Jokes'/><title type='text'>At a jewelry store, a young man</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;At a jewelry store, a young man bought an expensive locket as a present for his girlfriend. "Don't you want her name engraved upon it?" asked the jeweler. The young man thought for a moment, and then, ever the pragmatic, steadfastly replied,&lt;br /&gt;"No, just engrave it: To My One And Only Love. That way, if we break up and she throws it back to me in anger, I can use it again."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-140870553857870356?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/140870553857870356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=140870553857870356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/140870553857870356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/140870553857870356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/at-jewelry-store-young-man.html' title='At a jewelry store, a young man'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-555054103820121752</id><published>2009-04-07T02:57:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T02:58:58.619-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating Jokes'/><title type='text'>Brad had a blind date with Ashley</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Brad had a blind date with Ashley for the prom and, as the evening progressed, he found himself attracted to her more and more. After some really passionate embracing, he said, ?Tell me, do you object to making love??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;?That?s something I have never done before,? Ashley replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;?Never made love? You mean you are a virgin?? Brad was amazed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;?No, silly!? she giggled. ?I?ve never objected!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-555054103820121752?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/555054103820121752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=555054103820121752&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/555054103820121752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/555054103820121752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/brad-had-blind-date-with-ashley.html' title='Brad had a blind date with Ashley'/><author><name>Admin</name><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-5809653905050574123.post-499860618063504887</id><published>2009-04-07T02:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T02:57:53.733-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating Jokes'/><title type='text'>A boy and his date were parked</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A boy and his date were parked on a back road some distance from town, doing what boys and girls do on back roads some distance from town. Things were getting hot and heavy when the girl stopped the boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;?I really should ave mentioned this earlier, but I?m actually a hooker and I charge $20 for sex,? she said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The boy just looked at her for a couple of seconds, but then reluctantly paid her, and they did their thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After the cigarette, the boy just sat in the driver?s seat looking out the window. ?Why aren?t we going anywhere?? asked the girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;?Well, I should have mentioned this before, but I?m actually a taxi driver, and the fare back to town is $25.?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809653905050574123-499860618063504887?l=funkyjoke.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/feeds/499860618063504887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809653905050574123&amp;postID=499860618063504887&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/499860618063504887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809653905050574123/posts/default/499860618063504887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funkyjoke.blogspot.com/2009/04/boy-and-his-date-were-parked.html' title='A boy and his date were parked'/><author><name>Admin</name><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>
