<?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-7469491</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:19:49.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Online</title><subtitle type='html'>BE online is the super blog that gives yoou useful informations about all you nned</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>265</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114892307950854198</id><published>2006-06-29T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T10:17:59.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Women seeking men&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;"WOMEN SEEKING MEN" Classifieds translations&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Light drinker means: Lush&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Looks younger means: If viewed from far away in bad light&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Loves Travel means: If you're paying&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114892307950854198?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114892307950854198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114892307950854198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/women-seeking-menwomen-seeking-men_29.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114892307935230159</id><published>2006-06-29T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T10:17:59.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Question and answer Clinton joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q: When will there be a woman in the White House?&lt;br&gt;A: When Hillary leaves town.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114892307935230159?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114892307935230159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114892307935230159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/question-and-answer-clinton-jokeq-when.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114883668139928242</id><published>2006-06-28T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T10:18:01.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;True stupid stories 02&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;With Bill Clinton in the White House, I finally understand why we celebrate Presidents Day with mattress sales. (Leno) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114883668139928242?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114883668139928242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114883668139928242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/true-stupid-stories-02with-bill.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114883668133447482</id><published>2006-06-28T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T10:18:01.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Lightbulb joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q:  How many alt.folklore.urban readers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?&lt;br&gt;A:  One, who'll do it for food.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114883668133447482?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114883668133447482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114883668133447482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/lightbulb-jokeq-how-many-alt.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114875028960816058</id><published>2006-06-27T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T10:18:09.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;One-liner about business&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Two rules to success in life: 1. Don't tell people everything you know.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114875028960816058?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114875028960816058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114875028960816058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/one-liner-about-businesstwo-rules-to.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114875028960816203</id><published>2006-06-27T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T10:18:09.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Three very tough mice&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Three rats are sitting at the bar talking bragging about their bravery and toughness.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The first says, "I'm so tough, once I ate a whole bagful of rat poison!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The second says, "Well I'm so tough, once I was caught in a rat trap and I bit it apart!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then the third rat gets up and says, "Later guys, I'm off home to harass the cat."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114875028960816203?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114875028960816203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114875028960816203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/three-very-tough-micethree-rats-are_27.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114866389213641093</id><published>2006-06-26T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T10:18:12.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;You might be a redneck if ...&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;You consider duct tape and tarp straps necessities for auto body repair.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You raise the confederate flag in the bed of your truck whenever you go for a drive.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You can't wait for the Saturday night square dance.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114866389213641093?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114866389213641093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114866389213641093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-might-be-redneck-if_26.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114866389207797573</id><published>2006-06-26T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T10:18:12.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Seeing a child in need&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;One afternoon a little boy was playing outdoors. He used his mother's broom as a horse and had a wonderful time until it was getting dark.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He left the broom on the back porch. His mother was cleaning up the kitchen when she realized that her broom was missing. She asked the little boy about the broom and he told her where it was.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;She then asked him to please go get it. The little boy informed his mom that he was afraid of the dark and didn't want to go out to get the broom.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;His mother smiled and said 'The Lord is out there too, don't be afraid'. The little boy opened the back door a little and said 'Lord if you're out there, hand me the broom'. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114866389207797573?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114866389207797573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114866389207797573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/seeing-child-in-needone-afternoon.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114857749890216885</id><published>2006-06-25T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T10:18:20.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Arguing about the sign&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A man was driving down a local street one day and approached a stop sign. He barely slowed down and ran right through the stop sign after glancing for traffic.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;What the driver didn't know was that a policeman was watching the intersection. The policeman pulled out after him and stopped the car two blocks away. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Policeman: "License, registration and proof of insurance please." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Driver: "Before I give it to you, tell me what the heck you stopped me for, man." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Policeman: "Watch your tone sir; you ran the stop sign back there!!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Driver: "Man, I slowed down, what the heck is the difference!?!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The police officer pulled out his night stick and began smashing it over the man's head and shoulders.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Policeman: "Now, do you want me to just slow down or stop!!!? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114857749890216885?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114857749890216885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114857749890216885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/arguing-about-signa-man-was-driving.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114857749890114711</id><published>2006-06-25T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T10:18:20.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;The amazing golf ball&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A golfer, playing a round by himself, is about to tee off, and a greasy little salesman runs up to him, and yells, "Wait! Before you tee off, I have something really amazing to show you!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The golfer, annoyed, says, "What is it?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"It's a special golf ball," says the salesman. "You can never lose it!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Whattaya mean," scoffs the golfer, "you can never lose it? What if you hit it into the water?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"No problem," says the salesman. "It floats, and it detects where the shore is, and spins towards it." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Well, what if you hit it into the woods?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Easy," says the salesman. "It emits a beeping sound, and you can find it with your eyes closed." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Okay," says the golfer, impressed. "But what if your round goes late and it gets dark?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"No problem, sir, this golf ball glows in the dark! I'm telling you, you can never lose this golf ball!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The golfer buys it at once. "Just one question," he says to the salesman. "Where did you get it?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"I found it." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114857749890114711?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114857749890114711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114857749890114711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/amazing-golf-balla-golfer-playing.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114849110312013239</id><published>2006-06-24T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T10:18:23.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Answering machine message 59&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Hello, you have reached the DOE, that is, the Department Of Enemies.  Rick Burger is not here right now, so leave a message saying who you are, what you want to argue about, and where you'll be, and I'll be there.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114849110312013239?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114849110312013239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114849110312013239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/answering-machine-message-59hello-you.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114849110311981038</id><published>2006-06-24T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T10:18:23.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Happy with that salary?&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File name:&lt;/b&gt; goods.zip&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File size:&lt;/b&gt; 140KB&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File type:&lt;/b&gt; Fun file&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114849110311981038?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114849110311981038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114849110311981038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/happy-with-that-salaryfile-name-goods.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114831831767459516</id><published>2006-06-22T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T10:18:38.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Answering machine message 184&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;All our answering machines are busy.  Please hold.  (Pause.) All our answering machines are...  (CLICK)  This is the answering machine of...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114831831767459516?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114831831767459516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114831831767459516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/answering-machine-message-184all-our.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114831831771152526</id><published>2006-06-22T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T10:18:38.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Women seeking men&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;"WOMEN SEEKING MEN" Classifieds translations&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Self-employed means: Jobless&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Smart means: Insipid&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Special means: Rode the small schoolbus w/ tinted windows&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114831831771152526?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114831831771152526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114831831771152526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/women-seeking-menwomen-seeking-men.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114823187955077109</id><published>2006-06-21T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-21T10:17:59.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;I just managed to settle an account!&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A young attorney who had taken over his father�s practice rushed home elated one night.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Dad, listen," he shouted, "I�ve finally settled that old McKinney suit."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Settled it!" cried his astonished father. "Why, you idiot! We have been living off of that money for five years!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114823187955077109?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114823187955077109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114823187955077109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-just-managed-to-settle-accounta.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114823187955010401</id><published>2006-06-21T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-21T10:17:59.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Stupid people awards&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;It is once again time to vote for-the Darwin Award nominees for 1997. As you may already know, the Darwin Awards are for those nominees who will not be contributing to the gene pool (thankfully).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;NOMINEE NO.7["The. Indianapolis Star"] A cigarette lighter may have triggered fatal explosion - Dunkirk, Indiana. A Jay County man using a cigarette lighter to check the barrel of a muzzle loader was killed Monday night when the weapon discharged in his face, sheriffs investigators said. Gregory David Pryor, 19, died in his parents' rural Dunkirk home about 11:30 p.m. Investigators said Pryor was cleaning a 54-caliber muzzle loader that had not been firing properly. He was using the lighter to look into the barrel when the gunpowder ignited. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114823187955010401?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114823187955010401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114823187955010401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/stupid-people-awardsit-is-once-again.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114814548383855265</id><published>2006-06-20T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T10:18:03.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Picking a punishment&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;This guy dies and is sent to Hell. Satan meets him and shows him the doors to three rooms and says he must choose one of the rooms to spend eternity in.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So Satan opens the first door. In the room there are people standing in cow manure up to their necks. The guy says "No, please show me the next room".&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Satan shows him the next room and this has people with cow manure up to their noses. And so he says no again.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Finally, Satan shows him the third and final room. This time there are people in there with cow manure up to their knees drinking cups of tea and eating cakes.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So the guy says, "I'll choose this room". Satan says O.K. The guys is standing in there eating his cake and drinking his tea thinking, "Well, it could be worse", when the door opens. Satan pops his head around, and says "O.K. tea-break is over. Back on your heads!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114814548383855265?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114814548383855265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114814548383855265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/picking-punishmentthis-guy-dies-and-is.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114814548383861783</id><published>2006-06-20T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T10:18:03.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Yo mama is so fat&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Yo mama so fat she's got her own area code!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114814548383861783?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114814548383861783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114814548383861783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/yo-mama-is-so-fatyo-mama-so-fat-shes.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114805908867357616</id><published>2006-06-19T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T10:18:08.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;An IBM acronym&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;IBM: I'll Buy Macintosh&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114805908867357616?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114805908867357616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114805908867357616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/ibm-acronymibm-ill-buy-macintosh.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114805908857735763</id><published>2006-06-19T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T10:18:08.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Windows puzzle&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File name:&lt;/b&gt; winpuz.zip&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File size:&lt;/b&gt; 126KB&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File type:&lt;/b&gt; Fun file&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114805908857735763?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114805908857735763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114805908857735763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/windows-puzzlefile-name-winpuz.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114797269753194984</id><published>2006-06-18T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T10:18:17.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;What should they say?&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Three buddies die in a car crash, and they go to heaven to an orientation.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;They are all asked, "When you are in your casket and friends and family are mourning upon you, what would you like to hear them say about you? The first guy says, "I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor of my time, and a great family man." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The second guy says, "I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher which made a huge difference in our children of tomorrow." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The last guy replies, "I would like to hear them say, "Look! He's moving!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114797269753194984?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114797269753194984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114797269753194984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/what-should-they-saythree-buddies-die.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114797269737638237</id><published>2006-06-18T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T10:18:17.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;One-liner about business&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Woodward's Law:  A theory is better than its explanation.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114797269737638237?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114797269737638237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114797269737638237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/one-liner-about-businesswoodwards-law.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114788629933821838</id><published>2006-06-17T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T10:18:20.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;New Yorkers arrived&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;One day at the entrance to heaven, St. Peter saw a New York street gang.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;walk up to the Pearly Gates. This being a first, St. Peter ran to God and said, "God,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;there are some evil, thieving New Yorkers at the Pearly Gates. What do I do?".&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;God replied, "Just do what you normally do with that type. Re-direct them down to hell."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;St. Peter went back to carry out the order and all of a sudden he comes running back yelling "God, God, they're gone, they're gone!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Who, the New Yorkers?".&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"No, the Pearly Gates."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114788629933821838?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114788629933821838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114788629933821838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/new-yorkers-arrivedone-day-at-entrance.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114788629933884394</id><published>2006-06-17T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T10:18:20.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Boarding from what gate?&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;At the airport for a business trip, I settled down to wait for the boarding announcement at Gate 35. Then I heard the voice on the public address system saying, "We apologize for the inconvenience, but Delta Flight 570 will board from Gate 41."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So my family picked up our luggage and carried it over to Gate 41. Not ten minutes later the public address voice told us that Flight 570 would in fact be boarding from Gate 35.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, again, we gathered our carry-on luggage and returned to the original gate. Just as we were settling down, the public address voice spoke again: "Thank you for participating in Delta's physical fitness program.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114788629933884394?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114788629933884394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114788629933884394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/boarding-from-what-gateat-airport-for.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114779990868107601</id><published>2006-06-16T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T10:18:28.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Landing at a hidden military base&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;You've all heard of the Air Force's ultra-high-security, super-secret base in Nevada, known simply as "Area 51?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, late one afternoon, the Air Force folks out at Area 51 were very surprised to see a Cessna landing at their "secret" base. They immediately impounded the aircraft and hauled the pilot into an interrogation room. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The pilot's story was that he took off from Vegas, got lost, and spotted the Base just as he was about to run out of fuel. The Air Force started a full FBI background check on the pilot and held him overnight during the investigation.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;By the next day, they were finally convinced that the pilot really was lost and wasn't a spy. They gassed up his airplane, gave him a terrifying "you-did-not-see-a-base" briefing, complete with threats of spending the rest of his life in prison, told him Vegas was that-a-way on such-and-such a heading, and sent him on his way.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The day after that though, to the total disbelief of the Air Force, the same Cessna showed up again. Once again, the MP's surrounded the plane...only this time there were two people in the plane. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The same pilot jumped out and said, "Do anything you want to me, but my wife is in the plane and you have to tell her where I was last night!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114779990868107601?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114779990868107601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114779990868107601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/landing-at-hidden-military-baseyouve.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114779990868084259</id><published>2006-06-16T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T10:18:28.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;You might be a redneck if ...&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;You've tried to quote Jeff Foxworthy and screwed it up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You name your car the General Lee.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You see a sign that says "bridge out" and you try to jump it.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114779990868084259?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114779990868084259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114779990868084259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-might-be-redneck-if_16.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114771351056227764</id><published>2006-06-15T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T10:18:30.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Things to ponder&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;When someone asks you, "A penny for your thoughts," and you put your two cents in, what happens to the other penny? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why do croutons come in airtight packages? It's just stale bread to begin with. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114771351056227764?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114771351056227764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114771351056227764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/things-to-ponderif-love-is-blind-why.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114771351048475977</id><published>2006-06-15T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T10:18:30.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;You might be a redneck if ...&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;You clean your nails with a stick.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You prefer car keys to Q-tips.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Your Christmas cards have a copy of your butt included.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114771351048475977?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114771351048475977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114771351048475977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-might-be-redneck-if.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114762707307486726</id><published>2006-06-14T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T10:17:53.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Want to go into space?&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;NASA was interviewing professionals to be sent to Mars. Only one could go and couldn�t return to Earth.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The first applicant, an engineer, was asked how much he wanted to be paid for going. "A million dollars," he answered, "because I want to donate it to M.I.T."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The next applicant, a doctor, was asked the same question. He asked for $2 million. "I want to give a million to my family," he explained, "and leave the other million for the advancement of medical research."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The last applicant was a lawyer. When asked how much money he wanted, he whispered in the interviewer�s ear, "Three million dollars."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Why so much more than the others?" asked the interviewer.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The lawyer replied, "If you give me $3 million, I�ll give you $1 million, I�ll keep $1 million, and we�ll send the engineer to Mars."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114762707307486726?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114762707307486726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114762707307486726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/want-to-go-into-spacenasa-was.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114762707307368520</id><published>2006-06-14T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T10:17:53.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Worries about a risk&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;There is a story about a monastery in Europe perched high on a cliff several hundred feet in the air.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The only way to reach the monastery was to be suspended in a basket which was pulled to the top by several monks who pulled and tugged with all their strength.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Obviously the ride up the steep cliff in that basket was terrifying. One tourist got exceedingly nervous about half-way up as he noticed that the rope by which he was suspended was old and frayed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;With a trembling voice he asked the monk who was riding with him in the basket how often they changed the rope. The monk thought for a moment and answered brusquely, "Whenever it breaks." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114762707307368520?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114762707307368520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114762707307368520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/worries-about-riskthere-is-story-about.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114754067746394425</id><published>2006-06-13T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T10:17:57.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Just cut your hair first&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A young man comes home and says "Dad, just got my driver's license and would like to use the family car."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Father replies, :"O.K., son. But, first, you have to get good grades in school, keep your room clean, make certain the yard is neat, and cut your hair. Come back in a few months and then we'll see."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, several months pass and the young man comes into the house with his report card in his hand. "Dad, I got great marks on my report card. I've been keeping my room as neat as a pin, and the yard is always ship-shape. How about letting me use the car?"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Father replies, "That's all true, but son you didn't cut your hair."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Son says, "But, dad, Jesus had long hair."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Father replies, "Yes, son, you're perfectly right. And he walked everywhere he went."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114754067746394425?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114754067746394425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114754067746394425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/just-cut-your-hair-firsta-young-man.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114754067734401956</id><published>2006-06-13T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T10:17:57.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Types of computer viruses&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dan Quayle virus:&lt;/b&gt; Simplye addse ane ee toe everye worde youe typee..&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114754067734401956?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114754067734401956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114754067734401956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/types-of-computer-virusesdan-quayle.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114745431089337538</id><published>2006-06-12T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T10:18:31.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Clinton one-liner&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;"Carter is no longer the worst U.S. President"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114745431089337538?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114745431089337538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114745431089337538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/clinton-one-linercarter-is-no-longer.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114736788907896846</id><published>2006-06-11T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T10:18:09.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Bumper stickers 13&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;It's not hard to meet expenses, they're everywhere. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Jury: Twelve people who determine which client has the better lawyer. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Let not the sands of time get in your lunch. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Mediocrity thrives on standardization. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Reality is the only obstacle to happiness. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The 2 most common elements in the universe are hydrogen and stupidity. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Back Up My Hard Drive? How do I Put it in Reverse? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Everyone has a photographic memory. Some don't have film. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Seen it all, done it all, can't remember most of it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114736788907896846?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114736788907896846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114736788907896846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/bumper-stickers-13its-not-hard-to-meet.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114736788907967703</id><published>2006-06-11T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T10:18:09.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;The family of tomatoes&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A family of three tomatoes were walking downtown one day when the little baby tomato started lagging behind.  The big father tomato walks back to the baby tomato, stomps on her, squashing her into a red paste, and says, "Ketchup!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114736788907967703?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114736788907967703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114736788907967703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/family-of-tomatoesa-family-of-three.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114728149466356347</id><published>2006-06-10T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T10:18:14.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Bumper stickers 02&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;I wouldn't be caught dead with a necrophiliac. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Hard work has a future payoff. Laziness pays off now. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I won't rise to the occasion, but I'll slide over to it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Puritanism: The haunting fear that someone, somewhere may be happy. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Consciousness: that annoying time between naps. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Where there's a will, I want to be in it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Okay, who put a "stop payment" on my reality check? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Few women admit their age. Few men act theirs. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We have enough youth, how about a fountain of SMART? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114728149466356347?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114728149466356347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114728149466356347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/bumper-stickers-02i-wouldnt-be-caught.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114728149466099025</id><published>2006-06-10T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T10:18:14.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;The laws of golf&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;b&gt;LAW 7:&lt;/b&gt; Every par-three hole in the world has a secret desire to humiliate golfers. The shorter the hole, the greater its desire.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114728149466099025?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114728149466099025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114728149466099025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/laws-of-golflaw-7-every-par-three-hole.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114719510073166414</id><published>2006-06-09T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T10:18:20.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Operating systems as beers&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;b&gt;VMS Beer&lt;/b&gt; -- Requires minimal user interaction, except for popping the top and sipping. However cans have been known on occasion to explode, or contain extremely un-beer-like contents.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114719510073166414?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114719510073166414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114719510073166414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/operating-systems-as-beersvms-beer.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114719510073281385</id><published>2006-06-09T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T10:18:20.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Those raccoons are not luggage&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;As migration approached, two elderly vultures doubted they could make the trip south, so they decided to go by airplane.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;When they checked their baggage, the attendant noticed that they were carrying two dead raccoons. "Do you wish to check the raccoons through as luggage?" she asked. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"No, thanks," replied the vultures. "They're carrion." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114719510073281385?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114719510073281385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114719510073281385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/those-raccoons-are-not-luggageas.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114710870538036598</id><published>2006-06-08T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T10:18:25.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Chemist's last words&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;The last words of a chemist:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;7.  In which glass was my mineral water?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;8.  The bunschen burnes *is* out!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;9.  Why does that stuff burn with a green flame?!?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114710870538036598?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114710870538036598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114710870538036598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/chemists-last-wordsthe-last-words-of.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114710870516616783</id><published>2006-06-08T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T10:18:25.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;One-liner about business&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Familiarity breeds children.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114710870516616783?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114710870516616783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114710870516616783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/one-liner-about-businessfamiliarity.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114702231095480241</id><published>2006-06-07T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T10:18:31.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Signs you've had too much holiday cheer&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;1. You strike a match and light your nose. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. You take off your shoes and wade in the potato salad. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;3. You hear a duck quacking and it's you. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;4. You tell your best joke to the rubber plant. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;5. You refill your glass from the fish bowl. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;6. You hear someone say, "Call a priest!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;7. You start kissing the portraits on the wall. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;8. You complain about the small bathroom after emerging from the closet. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;9. You ask for another ice cube and put it in your pocket. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;10. You tell everyone you have to go home... and the party's at your place.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;11. You have to hold on to the floor to keep from sliding off.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;12. You pick up a roll, and butter your watch. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;13. You yawn at the biggest bore in the room... and realize you're in front of the hall mirror. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;14. You take out your handkerchief and blow your ear. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;15. You suggest everyone stand and sing the national budget. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114702231095480241?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114702231095480241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114702231095480241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/signs-youve-had-too-much-holiday.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114702231093792770</id><published>2006-06-07T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T10:18:31.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Helping the United States of America&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;One night, Bill Clinton was awakened by George Washington's ghost in the White House. Clinton saw him and asked, "George, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Set an honest and honorable example, just as I did," advised George. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The next night, the ghost of Thomas Jefferson moved through the dark bedroom. "Tom, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?" Clinton asked. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Cut taxes and reduce the size of government," advised Tom. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Clinton didn't sleep well the next night, and saw another figure moving in the shadows. It was Abraham Lincoln's ghost. "Abe, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?" Clinton asked. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Go to the theatre." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114702231093792770?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114702231093792770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114702231093792770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/helping-united-states-of-americaone.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114693590242081342</id><published>2006-06-06T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T10:18:23.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Things to ponder&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;If Fed Ex and UPS were to merge, would they call it Fed UP?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why are there 5 syllables in the word "monosyllabic"? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why do they call it the Department of Interior when they are in charge of everything outdoors? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why do scientists call it research when looking for something new? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114693590242081342?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114693590242081342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114693590242081342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/things-to-ponderif-fed-ex-and-ups-were.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114693590241968153</id><published>2006-06-06T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T10:18:23.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Why can't you be like that?&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Jill tells her husband, "Jack, that young couple that just moved in next door seem such a loving twosome.  Every morning, when he leaves the house, he kisses her goodbye, and every evening when he comes homes, he brings her a dozen roses.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Now, why can't you do that?"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Gosh," Jack says, "why I hardly know the girl."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114693590241968153?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114693590241968153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114693590241968153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/why-cant-you-be-like-thatjill-tells.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114684950805285079</id><published>2006-06-05T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T10:18:28.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Signs and notices&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;These are supposedly actual signs that have appeared at various locations across the United States and rest of the world.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Here is a great sign I saw in the grocery store: "Snickers, 5 for 1.00$.(limit 4)"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;On a dock in Juneau, Alaska: "Safety ladder, climb at own risk." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Seen on an electrical appliance store in Spokane, WA "Go modern! Go gas! Go BOOM!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Emergency Evacuation Plan posted in various places around my office building: "Run like Anything!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Biggs Septic Tank Service (near Nashville Tennessee) "Call Monday thru Friday, sorry, we haul milk on weekends."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114684950805285079?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114684950805285079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114684950805285079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/signs-and-noticesthese-are-supposedly.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114684950795117180</id><published>2006-06-05T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T10:18:28.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Three very tough mice&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Three rats are sitting at the bar talking bragging about their bravery and toughness.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The first says, "I'm so tough, once I ate a whole bagful of rat poison!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The second says, "Well I'm so tough, once I was caught in a rat trap and I bit it apart!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then the third rat gets up and says, "Later guys, I'm off home to harass the cat."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114684950795117180?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114684950795117180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114684950795117180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/three-very-tough-micethree-rats-are.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114676311309522681</id><published>2006-06-04T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T10:18:33.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Top ten things not to say on your Anniversary&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;10. I stopped caring about anniversaries when you stopped caring about cooking.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;9. Today is our what?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;8. Okay, let's celebrate, but do we have to celebrate together?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;7. I thought we only celebrated important events?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;6. You can celebrate anniversaries with your next husband.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;5. You don't like what I pick out, so I thought why bother.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;4. I got you a present worth a dollar for every time you were nice to me this year.  Here's a $5 gift certificate for McDonald's.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;3. If you want me to pretend like I care about our anniversary, I will.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. You want to go out to dinner?  Okay, okay, I'll take you to Pizza Hut if it'll shut ya up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;1. I thought you only had to celebrate anniversaries while you were still in love.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114676311309522681?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114676311309522681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114676311309522681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/top-ten-things-not-to-say-on-your.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114676311299150753</id><published>2006-06-04T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T10:18:33.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too Happy&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Description:&lt;/b&gt; Before this happy, most would assume that he just won the lottery.&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File name:&lt;/b&gt; m026.zip&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File size:&lt;/b&gt; 390KB&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114676311299150753?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114676311299150753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114676311299150753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/too-happydescription-before-this-happy.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114667653502760296</id><published>2006-06-03T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T10:15:36.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Things to ponder&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Why are builders afraid to have a 13th floor but book publishers aren't afraid to have a Chapter 11? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I asked my wife why there were so many dings on the driver's side of her Mercedes and she said the brakes must be bad on that side.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;After you lose an election, will they let you back into all the exclusive clubs you resigned from?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;This is the only place in the country where people pull over and stop for a funeral, but speed up to cut off an ambulence or a firetruck.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I went out today and bought everything I've been wanting, because now that the elections are over, I know that the politicians are going to take care of the middle class.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114667653502760296?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114667653502760296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114667653502760296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/things-to-ponderwhy-are-builders.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114667653481941457</id><published>2006-06-03T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T10:15:36.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Help stories from Tech Support&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Compaq is considering changing the command "Press Any Key" because of the flood of calls asking where the "Any" key is. AST technical support had a called complaining that her mouse was hard to control with the dust cover on. The cover turned out to be the plastic bag the mouse was packaged in.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114667653481941457?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114667653481941457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114667653481941457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/help-stories-from-tech-supportcompaq.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114659014047592904</id><published>2006-06-02T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T10:15:40.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Banjo joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q: Why does everyone hate a banjo right off?&lt;br&gt;A: Saves time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114659014047592904?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114659014047592904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114659014047592904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/banjo-jokeq-why-does-everyone-hate.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114659014047564248</id><published>2006-06-02T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T10:15:40.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;The Top Twenty Flight Advertising Slogans&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;1. BadAir: When you just can't wait for the world to come to you.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. BadAir: We're Amtrak with wings. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;3. Join our frequent near-miss program. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;4. On certain flights, every section is a smoking section. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;5. Ask about our out-of-court settlements. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;6. Our staff has had lots of experience counseling next-of-kin. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;7. Are our jet engines too noisy? Don't worry. We'll turn them off. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;8. Complimentary champagne during free-fall. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;9. Enjoy the in-flight movie in the plane next to you. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;10. The kids will love our inflatable slides.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;11. If you think it's so easy, get your own plane! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;12. Which will fall faster, our stock price or our planes? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;13. Our pilots are all terminally ill and have nothing to lose. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;14. BadAir: We may be landing on your street. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;15. BadAir: Terrorists are afraid to fly with us. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;16. Bring a bathing suit. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;17. Some airlines are content to fly thousands of feet over landmarks. We try to get as close as possible for the best view. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;18. That guy who crashed into the White House was one of our best pilots. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;19. Fly BadAir and enjoy a free two-week hospital stay on us.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;20. BadAir: A real man lands where he wants to.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114659014047564248?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114659014047564248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114659014047564248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/top-twenty-flight-advertising-slogans1.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114650374796024970</id><published>2006-06-01T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T10:15:49.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Musician joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q: How many bluegrass musicians does it take to screw in a light bulb?&lt;br&gt;A: Two.  One to screw it in, and one to complain that it's electrified.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114650374796024970?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114650374796024970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114650374796024970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/musician-jokeq-how-many-bluegrass.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114650374796073437</id><published>2006-06-01T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T10:15:49.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;One-liner about business&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;When there are sufficient funds in the checking account, checks take two weeks to clear.  When there are insufficient funds, checks clear overnight.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114650374796073437?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114650374796073437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114650374796073437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/06/one-liner-about-businesswhen-there-are.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114641735194408269</id><published>2006-05-30T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T10:15:52.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Bumper stickers 09&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Sarcasm is just one more service we offer. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Whisper my favorite words: "I'll buy it for you." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Suburbia: where they tear out the trees &amp; then name streets after them. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Stress is when you wake up screaming &amp; you realize you haven't fallen asleep yet. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Adults are just kids who owe money. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Who are these kids and why are they calling me Mom? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I pretend to work. They pretend to pay me. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You! Off my planet! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;-Errors have been made. Others will be blamed. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I majored in liberal arts. Would you like fries with that? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114641735194408269?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114641735194408269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114641735194408269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/bumper-stickers-09sarcasm-is-just-one.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114641735188129924</id><published>2006-05-30T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T10:15:52.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;You might be a redneck if ...&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;You think Genitalia is an Italian airline.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You wonder how service stations keep their restrooms so clean.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anyone in your family ever died right after saying, "Hey, y'all watch this."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114641735188129924?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114641735188129924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114641735188129924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/you-might-be-redneck-if_30.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114633096200096329</id><published>2006-05-29T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T10:16:02.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Things to ponder&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;I went out today and bought everything I've been wanting, because now that the elections are over, I know that the politicians are going to take care of the middle class.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The best advice for teenagers is, leave home now while you still know everything.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I really feel sorry for Madonna's baby, having to grow without a last name.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Is it a law of nature that women have to sneeze as soon as they apply their mascara?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114633096200096329?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114633096200096329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114633096200096329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/things-to-ponderi-went-out-today-and.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114633096187575182</id><published>2006-05-29T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T10:16:01.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Recruiting any and all pilots&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;The chief of staff of the US Air Force decided that he would personally intervene in the recruiting crisis affecting all of our armed services. He directed a nearby Air Force base that will be opened and that all eligible young men and women be invited. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;As he and his staff were standing near a brand new F-15 Fighter, a pair of twin brothers who looked like they had just stepped off a Marine Corps recruiting poster walked up to them. The chief of staff walked up to them, stuck out his hand and introduced himself. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He looked at the first young man and asked, "Son, what skills can you bring to the Air Force?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The young man looks at him and says, "I'm a pilot!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The general gets all excited, turns to his aide and says, "Get him in today, all the paper work done, everything, do it!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The aide hustles the young man off. The general looks at the second young man and asked, "What skills to you bring to the Air Force?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The young man says, "I chop wood!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Son," the general replies, "we don't need wood choppers in the Air Force, what do you know how to do?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"I chop wood!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Young man," huffs the general, "you are not listening to me, we don't need wood choppers, this is the 20th century!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Well," the young man says, "you hired my brother!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Of course we did," says the general, "he's a pilot!" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The young man rolls his eyes and says, "So what! I have to chop it before he can pile it!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114633096187575182?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114633096187575182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114633096187575182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/recruiting-any-and-all-pilotsthe-chief.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114624456243555835</id><published>2006-05-28T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T10:16:02.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Truly stupid people 01&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;GRAVITY KILLS&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A 22-year-old Reston man was found dead yesterday after he tried to use accessory straps (the stretchy little ropes with hooks on each end) to bungee jump off a 70-foot railroad trestle, police said. Fairfax County police said Eric A. Barcia, a fast-food worker, taped a bunch of these straps together, wrapped an end around one foot, anchored the other end to the trestle at Lake Accotink Park, jumped ... and hit the pavement. Warren Carmichael, a police spokesman, said investigators think Barcia was alone because his car was found nearby. "The length of the cord that he had assembled was greater than the distance between the trestle and the ground." Police say the apparent cause of death was "major trauma". An autopsy is scheduled for later in the week. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114624456243555835?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114624456243555835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114624456243555835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/truly-stupid-people-01gravity-killsa.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114624456234767578</id><published>2006-05-28T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T10:16:02.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Emacs acronyms&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;EMACS: Escape-Meta-Alt-Control-Shift&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Eight Megabytes And Constantly Swapping&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Even a Master of Arts Comes Simpler&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Manuals Are Cryptic and Surreal&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Energetic Merchants Always Cultivate Sales&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Each Manual's Audience is Completely Stupified&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Means A Crappy Screen&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Eventually Munches All Computer Storage&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Even My Aunt Crashes the System&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Eradication of Memory Accomplished with Complete Simplicity&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Elsewhere Maybe Alternative Civilizations Survive&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Egregious Managers Actively Court Stallman&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Esoteric Malleability Always Considered Silly&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Manuals Always Cause Senility&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Easily Maintained with the Assistance of Chemical Solutions&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Edwardian Manifestation of All Colonial Sins&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Extended Macros Are Considered Superfluous&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Every Mode Accelerates Creation of Software&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Elsewhere Maybe All Commands are Simple&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs May Allow Customised Screwups&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Excellent Manuals Are Clearly Suppressed&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emetic Macros Assault Core and Segmentation&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Embarrassed Manual-Writer Accused of Communist Subversion&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Extensibility and Modifiability Aggravate Confirmed Simpletons&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs May Annihilate Command Structures&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Easily Mangles, Aborts, Crashes and Stupifies&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Extraneous Macros And Commands Stink&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Exceptionally Mediocre Algorithm for Computer Scientists&lt;br&gt;EMACS: EMACS Makes no Allowances Considering its Stiff price&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Equine Mammals Are Considerably Smaller&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Embarrassingly Mundane Advertising Cuts Sales&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Every Moron Assumes CCA is Superior&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Exceptionally Mediocre Autocratic Control System&lt;br&gt;EMACS: EMACS May Alienate Clients and Supporters&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Excavating Mayan Architecture Comes Simpler&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Erasing Minds Allows Complete Submission&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Makers Are Crazy Sickos&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Eenie-Meenie-Miney-Mo- Macros Are Completely Slow&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Experience the Mildest Ad Campaign ever Seen&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Makefiles Annihilate C- Shells&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Eradication of Memory Accomplished with Complete Simplicity&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emetic Macros Assault Core and Segmentation&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Epileptic MLisp Aggravates Compiler Seizures&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Evenings, Mornings, And a Couple of Saturdays&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Makes All Computing Simple&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Masquerades As Comfortable Shell&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs: My Alternative Computer Story&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Made Almost Completely Screwed&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Each Mail A Continued Surprise&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Every Mode Acknowledges Customized Strokes &lt;br&gt;EMACS: Eating Memory And Cycle-Sucking&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Everyday Material Almost Compiled Successfully&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Elvis Masterminds All Computer Software&lt;br&gt;EMACS: Emacs Makes A Computer Slow&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114624456234767578?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114624456234767578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114624456234767578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/emacs-acronymsemacs-escape-meta-alt.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114615818137265984</id><published>2006-05-27T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T10:16:21.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;You might be a redneck if ...&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;You fish in your above-ground pool. . . and catch something.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Your beer can collection is considered a tourist attraction in your home town.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Getting a package from your post office requires a full tank of gas in the truck.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114615818137265984?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114615818137265984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114615818137265984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/you-might-be-redneck-if.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114615817590878296</id><published>2006-05-27T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T10:16:15.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114615817590878296?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114615817590878296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114615817590878296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post_27.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114607177747065600</id><published>2006-05-26T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T10:16:17.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Question and answer Clinton joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q: What is the basement where White House staffers work called?&lt;br&gt;A: The whine cellar.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114607177747065600?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114607177747065600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114607177747065600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/question-and-answer-clinton-jokeq-what.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114607177747318541</id><published>2006-05-26T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T10:16:17.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Lightbulb joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q:  How many Mensans does it take to screw in a litebulb?&lt;br&gt;A:  None. They know that litebulb is misspelled and therefore cannot exist to be screwed in. Now of course, if it were a Miller Lite bulb...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114607177747318541?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114607177747318541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114607177747318541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/lightbulb-jokeq-how-many-mensans-does.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114598537878718487</id><published>2006-05-25T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T10:16:18.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bird Plane&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Description:&lt;/b&gt; See a plane that is half-plane and half-bird flying through the sky.&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File name:&lt;/b&gt; m027.zip&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File size:&lt;/b&gt; 540KB&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114598537878718487?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114598537878718487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114598537878718487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/bird-planedescription-see-plane-that.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114598537878644779</id><published>2006-05-25T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T10:16:18.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Defining the Americans&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;We yell for the Government to balance the budget, then take the last dime we have to make the down payment on a car. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We whip the enemy in battle, then give them the shirt off our backs. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We yell for speed laws that will stop fast driving, then won't buy a car if it can't go over 100 miles an hour. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Americans get scared to death if we vote a billion dollars for education, then are unconcerned when we find out we are spending three billion dollars a year for cigarettes. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We know the line-up of every baseball team in the American and National Leagues but don't know half the words in the "Star Spangled Banner". &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We'll spend half a day looking for vitamin pills to make us live longer, then drive 90 miles an hour on slick pavement to make up for lost time. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We tie up our dog while letting our sixteen year old son run wild. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We will work hard on a farm so we can move into town where we can make more money so we can move back to the farm. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;In the office we talk about baseball, shopping or fishing, but when we are out at the game, the mall or on the lake, we talk about business. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We are the only people in the world who will pay $.50 to park our car while eating a $.25 sandwhich. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We're the country that has more food to eat than any other country in the world and more diets to keep us from eating it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We run from morning to night trying to keep our earning power up with our yearning power. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We're supposed to be the most civilized Christian nation on earth, but we still can't deliver payrolls without an armored car.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We have more experts on marriage than any other country in the world and still have more divorces. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114598537878644779?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114598537878644779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114598537878644779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/defining-americanswe-yell-for.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114598537878683582</id><published>2006-05-25T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T10:16:18.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;You can now eat your own plate&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Taipei, Taiwan (AP) - Diners tempted to lick a plate after a delicious meal can now go a step further - eat the plate.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Chen Liang-erh, 50, an amateur inventor, announced Friday that he had perfected an edible plate made from wheat grain, and that he planned to mass-produce it and other edible crockery including cups, bowls and food containers.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Chen spent six years developing the plate, which he said would retail at about 7 cents each.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Diners who don't want to eat the items - which taste like unsalted popcorn - can boil them for a nutritious meal for animals, he said.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Chen said this can help reduce pollution caused by discarded crockery.  The only disadvantage, he said, is his crockery cannot be washed and reused.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114598537878683582?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114598537878683582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114598537878683582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/you-can-now-eat-your-own-platetaipei.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114589898757620709</id><published>2006-05-24T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T10:16:27.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Real newspaper headlines&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;These are actual newspaper headlines gathered from papers across the United States and world.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Squad Helps Dog Bite Victim &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Shot Off Woman's leg Helps Nicklaus to 66 &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Enraged Cow Injures Farmer with Ax &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Miners Refuse to Work After Death &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114589898757620709?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114589898757620709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114589898757620709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/real-newspaper-headlinesthese-are_24.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114589898731526190</id><published>2006-05-24T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T10:16:27.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Yo mama is so greasy&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Yo mama so greasy Texaco buys Oil from her&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114589898731526190?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114589898731526190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114589898731526190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/yo-mama-is-so-greasyyo-mama-so-greasy.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114589898738727972</id><published>2006-05-24T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T10:16:27.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Statistical one-liner&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;According to a recent survey, 33 of the people say they participate in surveys.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114589898738727972?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114589898738727972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114589898738727972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/statistical-one-lineraccording-to.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114581258948013457</id><published>2006-05-23T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T10:16:29.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Ways to confuse a roommate&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;These are intended for entertainment purposes only. We do &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; advise that you ever do these things to a roommate or yourself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;199. Come home at three in the morning wearing shredded jeans and no shirt.  Dive into the room and under your bed.  Tell your roommate that you were being held captive by ten foot soldiers in full battle array.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114581258948013457?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114581258948013457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114581258948013457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/ways-to-confuse-roommatethese-are_23.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114581258929900232</id><published>2006-05-23T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T10:16:29.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Mother's dictionary&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;b&gt;Show off:&lt;/b&gt; A child who is more talented than yours.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sterilize:&lt;/b&gt; What you do to your first baby's pacifier by boiling it and to your last baby's pacifier by blowing on it.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Storeroom:&lt;/b&gt; The distance required between the supermarket aisles so that children in shopping carts can't quite reach anything.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114581258929900232?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114581258929900232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114581258929900232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/mothers-dictionaryshow-off-child-who.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114581258936348675</id><published>2006-05-23T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T10:16:29.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Worries about mad cow disease&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;There were these two cows, chatting over the fence between their fields.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The first cow said, "I tell you, this mad-cow-disease is really pretty scary.  They say it is spreading fast; I heard it hit some cows down on the Johnson Farm."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The other cow replies, "I ain't worried, it don't affect us ducks."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114581258936348675?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114581258936348675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114581258936348675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/worries-about-mad-cow-diseasethere.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114572619542313488</id><published>2006-05-22T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T10:16:35.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;A man is almost about to die&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;As he lay on his deathbed, the man confided to his wife, "I cannot die without telling you the truth.  I cheated on you throughout our whole marriage. All those nights when I told you I was working late, I was with other women. And not just one woman either, but I've slept with dozens of them."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;His wife looked at him calmly and said, "Why do you think I gave you the poison?"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114572619542313488?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114572619542313488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114572619542313488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/man-is-almost-about-to-dieas-he-lay-on.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114572619522288676</id><published>2006-05-22T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T10:16:35.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Picking a punishment&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;This guy dies and is sent to Hell. Satan meets him and shows him the doors to three rooms and says he must choose one of the rooms to spend eternity in.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So Satan opens the first door. In the room there are people standing in cow manure up to their necks. The guy says "No, please show me the next room".&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Satan shows him the next room and this has people with cow manure up to their noses. And so he says no again.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Finally, Satan shows him the third and final room. This time there are people in there with cow manure up to their knees drinking cups of tea and eating cakes.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So the guy says, "I'll choose this room". Satan says O.K. The guys is standing in there eating his cake and drinking his tea thinking, "Well, it could be worse", when the door opens. Satan pops his head around, and says "O.K. tea-break is over. Back on your heads!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114572619522288676?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114572619522288676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114572619522288676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/picking-punishmentthis-guy-dies-and-is.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114572619528471248</id><published>2006-05-22T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T10:16:35.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Leaving money for the dead&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A Brooklyn lawyer, a used car salesman and a banker were gathered by a coffin containing the body of an old friend. In his grief, one of the three said, "In my family, we have a custom of giving the dead some money, so they�ll have something to spend over there."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;They all agreed that this was appropriate. The banker dropped a hundred dollar bill into the casket, and the car salesman did the same. The lawyer took out the bills and wrote a check for $300.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114572619528471248?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114572619528471248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114572619528471248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/leaving-money-for-deada-brooklyn.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114563980177128314</id><published>2006-05-21T00:25:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T10:16:41.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Don't arrest the judge&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A squad car driver was covering a quiet beat out in the sticks when he was amazed to find a former lieutenant on the police force covering the beat.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He stopped the car and asked, "Why, Irish Mike, this wouldn't be your new beat out here in the sticks, would it?"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"That it is, "Irish Mike replied grimly, "ever since I arrested the judge on his way to the masquerade ball."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"You mean you pinched his honor?" asked Pat.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"How was I to know that his convict suit was only a costume?" demanded Mike.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Well," mused Pat, "there's a lesson in this somewhere."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"That there is," replied Irish Mike...." 'Tis wise never to book a judge by his cover."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114563980177128314?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980177128314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980177128314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/dont-arrest-judgea-squad-car-driver_21.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114563980069545988</id><published>2006-05-21T00:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T10:16:40.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Bassoon jokes&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?&lt;br&gt;A: To get away from the bassoon recital.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114563980069545988?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980069545988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980069545988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/bassoon-jokesq-why-did-chicken-cross.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114563980066088170</id><published>2006-05-21T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T10:16:40.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Signs and notices&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;These are supposedly actual signs that have appeared at various locations across the United States and rest of the world.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sign in a restaurant window: "T-bone steak $1  Then, in fine print underneath: With meat $12"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A hardware store in Oregon has a sign that reads: "Today's special. Below it says:  So's tomorrow."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sign on restaurant window: "Great food (50,000 flies can't be wrong)." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Billboard facing the road in front of a funeral home: "Drive carefully. We'll wait." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sign in a Maine restaurant: "Open 7 days a week and weekends." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114563980066088170?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980066088170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980066088170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/signs-and-noticesthese-are-supposedly.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114563980046641313</id><published>2006-05-21T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T10:16:40.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Knock knock joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Knock Knock&lt;br&gt;Who's there?&lt;br&gt;Leland!&lt;br&gt;Leland who?&lt;br&gt;Leland of the free and the home of the brave!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114563980046641313?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980046641313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980046641313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/knock-knock-jokeknock-knockwhos.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114563980053667070</id><published>2006-05-21T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T10:16:40.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;What's your wife's name?&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;St. Peter is questioning three married couples to see if they qualify for admittance to heaven.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Why do you deserve to pass the Pearly Gates?" he asks one of the men, who had been a butler.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"I was a good father," he answers.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Yes, but you were a drunk all your life. In fact, you were so bad you even married a woman named Sherry. No admittance."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;St. Peter then turned to the next man, a carpenter, and asked him the same question.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The carpenter replied that he had worked hard and taken good care of his family.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But St. Peter also rejected him, pointing out that he had been an impossible glutton, so much so that he married a woman named BonBon.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;At this point the third man, who had been a lawyer, stood up and said, "Come on, Penny, let�s get out of here."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114563980053667070?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980053667070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114563980053667070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/whats-your-wifes-namest.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114555340602288446</id><published>2006-05-20T00:25:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T10:16:46.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Lightbulb joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q:  How long does it take a C programmer to screw in a light bulb?&lt;br&gt;A:  24 hours--3 minutes to put in the bulb, the rest of the time to compile all the libraries...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114555340602288446?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340602288446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340602288446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/lightbulb-jokeq-how-long-does-it-take.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114555340590276347</id><published>2006-05-20T00:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T10:16:45.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;A snail buys a fast new car&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;There was once a snail who was sick and tired of his reputation for being so slow.  He decided to get some fast wheels to make up the difference.  After shopping around a while, he decided that the Datson 240-Z was the car to get.  So the snail goes to the nearest Datsun dealer and says he wants to buy the 240-Z, but he wants it repainted "240-S".&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The dealer asks, "Why 'S'?"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The snail replies, "'S' stands for snail.  I want everybody who sees me roaring past to know who's driving."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, the dealer doesn't want to lose the unique opportunity to sell a car to a snail, so he agrees to have the car repainted for a small fee.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The snail gets his new car and spent the rest of his days roaring happily down the highway at top speed.  And whenever anyone would see him zooming by, they'd say "Wow!  Look at that S-car go!"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114555340590276347?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340590276347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340590276347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/snail-buys-fast-new-carthere-was-once.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114555340580041637</id><published>2006-05-20T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T10:16:45.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;I did all of that?&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;After a particularly poor game of golf, a popular club member skipped the clubhouse and started to go home. As he was walking to the parking lot to get his car, a policeman stopped him and asked, "Did you tee off on the sixteenth hole about twenty minutes ago?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Yes," the golfer responded. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Did you happen to hook your ball so that it went over the trees and off the course?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Yes, I did. How did you know?" he asked. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Well," said the policeman very seriously, "Your ball flew out onto the highway and crashed through a driver's windshield. The car went out of control, crashing into five other cars and a fire truck. The fire truck couldn't make it to the fire, and the building burned down. So, what are you going to do about it?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The golfer thought it over carefully and responded... &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"I think I'll close my stance a little bit, tighten my grip and lower my right thumb." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114555340580041637?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340580041637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340580041637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-did-all-of-thatafter-particularly.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114555340561375146</id><published>2006-05-20T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T10:16:45.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Yo mama's house is so dirty&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Yo mama house so dirty roaches ride around on dune buggies!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114555340561375146?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340561375146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340561375146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/yo-mamas-house-is-so-dirtyyo-mama.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114555340554901455</id><published>2006-05-20T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T10:16:45.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;It's upside down&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File name:&lt;/b&gt; upsid.zip&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File size:&lt;/b&gt; 1.55KB&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File type:&lt;/b&gt; Fun file&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114555340554901455?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340554901455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114555340554901455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/its-upside-downfile-name-upsid.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114546701543023718</id><published>2006-05-19T00:25:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T10:16:57.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;The birthday study&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;It is proven that the celebration of birthdays is healthy.  Statistics show that those people who celebrate the most birthdays become the oldest. -- S. den Hartog, Ph D. Thesis Universtity of Groningen.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114546701543023718?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701543023718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701543023718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/birthday-studyit-is-proven-that.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114546701542925038</id><published>2006-05-19T00:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T10:16:57.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;One-liner about business&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Never sleep with anyone crazier than yourself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114546701542925038?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701542925038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701542925038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/one-liner-about-businessnever-sleep.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114546701543128890</id><published>2006-05-19T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T10:16:57.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Question answer&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Who won the race between two balls of string?&lt;br&gt;They we're tied! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why are football players never asked for dinner?&lt;br&gt;Because they're always dribbling! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why did the footballer hold his boot to his ear?&lt;br&gt;Because he liked sole music! &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114546701543128890?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701543128890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701543128890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/question-answerwho-won-race-between.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114546701543198888</id><published>2006-05-19T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T10:16:57.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;A stolen credit card&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A man said his credit card was stolen but he decided not to report it because the thief was spending less than his wife did. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114546701543198888?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701543198888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701543198888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/stolen-credit-carda-man-said-his.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114546701542941946</id><published>2006-05-19T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T10:16:57.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Answering machine message 152&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Hi.  I'm probably home, I'm just avoiding someone I don't like. Leave me a message, and if I don't call back, it's you.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114546701542941946?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701542941946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114546701542941946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/answering-machine-message-152hi.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114538062060356996</id><published>2006-05-18T00:25:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T10:17:00.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Were you drinking?&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A policeman pulls a man over for speeding and asks him to get out of the car. After looking the man over he says, "Sir, I couldn't help but notice your eyes are bloodshot. Have you been drinking?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The man gets really indignant and says, "Officer, I couldn't help but notice your eyes are glazed. Have you been eating doughnuts?" &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114538062060356996?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062060356996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062060356996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/were-you-drinkinga-policeman-pulls-man.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114538062045790390</id><published>2006-05-18T00:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T10:17:00.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk to You?&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Description:&lt;/b&gt; "Hey.  Hey.  Where did you get this number? What makes you think I wanna talk to ..."&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File name:&lt;/b&gt; a009.zip&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;File size:&lt;/b&gt; 140KB&lt;br&gt;Data source: The Answering Machine, http://www.answeringmachine.co.uk/&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114538062045790390?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062045790390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062045790390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/talk-to-youdescription-hey.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114538062030631075</id><published>2006-05-18T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T10:17:00.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;A bribe for your professor&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A professor was giving a big test one day to his students. He handed out all of the tests and went back to his desk to wait. Once the test was over, the students all handed the tests back in. The professor noticed that one of the students had attached a $100 bill to his test with a note saying "A dollar per point." The next class the professor handed the tests back out. This student got back his test and $56 change.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114538062030631075?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062030631075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062030631075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/bribe-for-your-professora-professor.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114538062011376821</id><published>2006-05-18T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T10:17:00.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;A drunk orders himself a beer&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk. he staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool, and with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The bartender politely informs the man that it appears that he has already had plenty to drink--he could not be served additional liquor at this bar but could get a cab called for him.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The drunk is briefly surprised then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down off the bar stool, and staggers out the front door.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink. The bartender comes over, and still politely--but more firmly refuses service to the man due to his inebriation. Again, the bartender offers to call a cab for him.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits, and belligerently orders a drink.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is clearly drunk, will be served no drinks, and either a cab or the police will be called immediately.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish, cries "Man! How many bars do you work at?"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114538062011376821?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062011376821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538062011376821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/drunk-orders-himself-beera-man-walks.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114538061996058647</id><published>2006-05-18T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T10:17:00.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Question and answer blonde joke&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Q: What do you call a blonde with 90% of her intelligence gone?&lt;br&gt;A: Divorced.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114538061996058647?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538061996058647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114538061996058647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/question-and-answer-blonde-jokeq-what.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114529422247365977</id><published>2006-05-17T00:25:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T10:17:02.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Lawyers get robbed&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Two lawyers are in a bank, when, suddenly, armed robbers burst in.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;While several of the robbers take the money from the tellers, others line the customers, including the lawyers, up against a wall, and proceed to take their wallets, watches, etc. While this is going on lawyer number one jams something in lawyer number two's hand.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Without looking down, lawyer number two whispers, "What is this?" to which lawyer number one replies, "It's that $50 I owe you."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114529422247365977?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114529422247365977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114529422247365977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/lawyers-get-robbedtwo-lawyers-are-in.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114529422235192357</id><published>2006-05-17T00:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T10:17:02.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Some last minute requests&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;A man woke up in a hospital bed and called for his doctor. He asked, "Give it to me straight. How long have I got?" The physician replied that he doubted that the man would survive the night. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The man then said, "Call for my lawyer." When the lawyer arrived, the man asked for his physician to stand on one side of the bed, while the lawyer stood on the other. The man then laid back and closed his eyes. When he remained silent for several minutes, the physician asked what he had in mind. The man replied "Jesus died with a thief on either side. I just thought I'd check out the same way." &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114529422235192357?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114529422235192357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114529422235192357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/some-last-minute-requestsa-man-woke-up.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7469491.post-114529422223170794</id><published>2006-05-17T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T10:17:02.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Welcoming to America&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/center&gt;When young Jose, newly arrived in the United States, made his first trip to Yankee Stadium, there were no tickets left for sale. Touched by his disappointment, a friendly ticket salesman found him a perch near the American flag. Later, Jose wrote home enthusiastically about his experience. "And the Americans, they are so friendly!" he concluded. "Before the game started, they all stood up and looked at me and sang, .... 'Jose, can you see?'"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7469491-114529422223170794?l=be_online.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114529422223170794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7469491/posts/default/114529422223170794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://be_online.blogspot.com/2006/05/welcoming-to-americawhen-young-jose.html' title=''/><author><name>NewsMan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06807604811664645146</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
