<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610</id><updated>2008-02-22T05:51:31.050Z</updated><title type='text'>GSOH - Got a good sense of humour?</title><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml'/><author><name>anti-spam</name></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>157</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116912910974499645</id><published>2007-01-03T11:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-18T14:29:34.053Z</updated><title type='text'>The rules for women...</title><content type='html'>The Female always makes The Rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rules are subject to change at any time without prior notification.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Male can possibly know all The Rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the Female suspects the Male knows all The Rules, she must immediately change some or all of The Rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Female is *never* wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(If the Female is wrong, it is because of a flagrant misunderstanding which was a direct result of something the Male did or said wrong.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(If Rule 6 applies, the Male must apologize immediately for causing the misunderstanding.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Female can change her mind at any given point in time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Male must never change his mind without express written consent from the Female. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Female has every right to be angry or upset at any time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Male must remain calm at all times - unless the Female Wants him to be angry or upset. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Female must under no circumstances let the Male know whether or not she wants him to be angry or upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Male is expected to mind read at all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Male who doesn't abide by The Rules, can't take the heat, lacks a backbone, and is a wimp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any attempt to document The Rules could result in bodily harm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At no time can the Male make such comments as "Insignificant" and "Is that all?" when the Female is complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the Female has PMS *all* The Rules are null and void!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2007/01/rules-for-women.html' title='The rules for women...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116912910974499645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116912910974499645'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116912910974499645'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116912769308640358</id><published>2007-01-02T13:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-18T13:57:33.833Z</updated><title type='text'>The rules for men...</title><content type='html'>Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crying is blackmail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men are NOT mind readers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides - let it be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yes' and 'No' are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem - go see a doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact - all comments become null and void after 7 Days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls don't Expect us to act like soap opera guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think you're fat - you probably are. Don't ask us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it itches, it will be scratched - we do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry - we meant the other one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it - just do it yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we ask what is wrong and you say 'nothing'. We will act like nothing is wrong. We know you are lying - but it is just not worth the hassle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ask a question you don't want an answer to - expect an answer you don't want to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have too many shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as SEX, CARS, BEER or FOOTBALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have enough clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in shape. Round IS a shape!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2007/01/rules-for-men.html' title='The rules for men...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116912769308640358' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116912769308640358'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116912769308640358'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116005195409657955</id><published>2006-12-02T12:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-04T09:45:13.823Z</updated><title type='text'>The naming of Jesus...</title><content type='html'>The three wise men went to visit Jesus right after he was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One wise man was extremely tall. He hit his head on the top of the door frame and said, "Jesus Christ!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joseph looked at Mary and said: "Write that down - it's better than Scott!"</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/12/naming-of-jesus.html' title='The naming of Jesus...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116005195409657955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116005195409657955'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116005195409657955'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115960456441812092</id><published>2006-12-01T08:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-04T09:44:37.613Z</updated><title type='text'>Christmas car accident...</title><content type='html'>Three men died in a car accident on Christmas Eve. They all find themselves at the Pearly Gates waiting to enter Heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On entering, they are told that they must present something with a flavor in order to get in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first man searches his pocket, and finds some pine needles from the family's Christmas tree. He is allowed entry to Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second man offers a bow and some ribbon, from presents that were opened earlier that evening. He too is allowed entry to Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third man reaches into his pocket and produces a pair of panties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confused at the man's gesture, St. Peter asks, "How do panties represent Christmas?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replies, "Oh, they're Carol's."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/12/christmas-car-accident.html' title='Christmas car accident...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115960456441812092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115960456441812092'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115960456441812092'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116522695255220226</id><published>2006-11-02T10:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-04T13:38:23.203Z</updated><title type='text'>Obituary of the late Mr. Common Sense...</title><content type='html'>Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, wife isn't always fair and maybe it was my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate, teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student only worsened his condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Calpol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, churches became businesses and criminals received better treatment than their victims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realise that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents - Truth and Trust, his wife - Discretion, his daughter - Responsibility and his son - Reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers: I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not many attended his funeral because so few realised he was gone. If you still remember him pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing! ;(</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/11/obituary-of-late-mr-common-sense.html' title='Obituary of the late Mr. Common Sense...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116522695255220226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116522695255220226'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116522695255220226'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116041131395349090</id><published>2006-11-01T07:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-04T09:45:56.830Z</updated><title type='text'>A man walks into a bar with an emu...</title><content type='html'>A man walks into a bar with an emu and a cat, he orders 3 rum's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cat shouts "I'm not paying".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm paying" says the man and sits down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little later the man orders 3 more rum's, "I'm not paying" shouts the cat again, the man says "I'm paying".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The barman asks the man why he is with a emu and a cat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says "On the way here I met a genie who said he would grant me any wish - so I asked for a long legged bird with a tight pussy."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/11/man-walks-into-bar-with-emu.html' title='A man walks into a bar with an emu...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116041131395349090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116041131395349090'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116041131395349090'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013359251583743</id><published>2006-10-27T11:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-26T23:13:53.680Z</updated><title type='text'>Why I fired my secretary...</title><content type='html'>I woke up early feeling a little depressed because it was my birthday and thought - another year older - but decided to make the best of it. So I showered then shaved - knowing when I went down to breakfast my wife would greet me with a big kiss and say "Happy Birthday, dear". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All smiles - I went into breakfast and there sat my wife reading the newspaper as usual. She didn't say one word - so I got myself a cup of coffee and thought to myself - oh well she just forgot. The kids will be in in a few minutes all cheery and they will sing Happy Birthday and have a nice gift for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There I sat, enjoying my coffee, and I waited. Finally, the kids came running in yelling "Give me a slice of toast!", "I'm late!", and "Where is my coat?!", "I'm going to miss the bus!!". Feeling more for the office by the minute... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I walked into the office my secretary greeted me with a nice smile and a "Happy Birthday boss", and said "I'll get you some coffee." Her remembering made me feel a lot happier! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the morning my secretary knocked on my office door and said "Since it's your birthday, why don't we have lunch together." Thinking it would make me feel better - I said that was a good idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we locked up the office and since it was my birthday, I said "Why don't we drive out of town and have off going to the usual place". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we drove out of town and went to a little out-of-the-way place and had a couple of martinis and a nice lunch. We started driving back to town when my secretary said "Why don't we go by my place and I'll fix you another martini". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounded like a good idea since we didn't have anything to do in the office anyway. So we went to her apartment and she fixed us both a martini and after a while she said "If you'll excuse me I think I will slip into something more comfortable" and she left the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five minutes later she opened her bedroom door and came out carrying a big birthday cake. Following her was my wife and all my kids and there I sat with nothing on but my socks!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/why-i-fired-my-secretary.html' title='Why I fired my secretary...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013359251583743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013359251583743'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013359251583743'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013222800177899</id><published>2006-10-26T10:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-26T08:13:45.946Z</updated><title type='text'>Borrow the car...</title><content type='html'>A son walks into the living room and asks his dad to borrow the car because he has a hot date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dad says, "Of course - just as soon as you cut your long hair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy smiles and thinking he has outsmarted his dad replies, "But dad, Jesus had long hair..."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;His dad replies, "Yeah, and Jesus walked everywhere he went too, didn't he?"</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/borrow-car.html' title='Borrow the car...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013222800177899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013222800177899'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013222800177899'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013282943088752</id><published>2006-10-25T10:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-25T09:22:46.450Z</updated><title type='text'>Police quotations...</title><content type='html'>"The answer to this last question will determine whether you are drunk or not. Was Mickey Mouse a cat or dog?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife gets a toaster oven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life's tough but it's tougher if you're stupid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No sir, we don't have quotas anymore. We used to have quotas, but now we're allowed to write as many tickets as we want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just how big were those two beers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The handcuffs are tight because they're new. They'll stretch out after you wear them awhile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you run, you'll only go to jail tired."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, you don't know how fast you were going. I guess that means I can write anything I want on the ticket, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes sir, you can talk to the shift supervisor, but I don't think it will help. Oh, did I mention that I am the shift supervisor?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In God we trust, all others are suspects."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Warning! You want a warning? O.K., I'm warning you not to do that again or I'll give you another ticket."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/police-quotations.html' title='Police quotations...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013282943088752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013282943088752'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013282943088752'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013136382881147</id><published>2006-10-24T10:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-25T15:37:34.376Z</updated><title type='text'>Only in America...</title><content type='html'>Only in America... do people order double cheese burgers, large fries, and a diet Coke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... do banks leave both doors to the vault open and then chain the pens to the counters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... do we use answering machines to screen calls and then have call waiting so we won't miss a call from someone we didn't want to talk to in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... do we use the word "politics" to describe the process so well: "poli" in Latin meaning "many" and "tics" meaning "bloodsucking creatures."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... can a pizza get to your house faster than an ambulance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... are there handicap parking places in front of a skating rink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in America... do they have drive-up ATM machines with braille lettering.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/only-in-america.html' title='Only in America...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013136382881147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013136382881147'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013136382881147'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013322690583814</id><published>2006-10-23T11:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-23T08:50:53.580Z</updated><title type='text'>Little red riding ho...</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time Little Red Riding Hood's mother (being concerned about the increase in violence) gave Little Red Riding Hood a .45 caliber gun for protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Red kept this gun in her basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One summer day while on the way to her grandmothers house a big bad wolf jumped out from behind a tree and howled "I'm going to screw your brains out!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Red Riding Hood pulled out her gun from the basket and calmly replied, "Oh no you're not, you're going to eat me like the story says."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/little-red-riding-ho.html' title='Little red riding ho...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013322690583814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013322690583814'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013322690583814'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115995702328160953</id><published>2006-10-22T10:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-23T16:28:29.626Z</updated><title type='text'>The elephant and the ant...</title><content type='html'>An elephant was walking through the jungle one day when it suddenly stepped on a thorn - wedging it between its toes. Being in too much pain to continue the elephant lay down and began to cry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after an ant came across the elephant and asked why she was crying. "I have a thorn in my foot and it's too painful to walk", cried the elephant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ant thought a minute and offered a deal: "I'll pull the thorn from your foot, if you let me have my way with you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, I'll do anything," whined the elephant. "Just get the damn thorn out!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ant pulled the thorn out, then mounted the elephant and began to hump away. Two monkeys in a nearby tree witnessed the whole thing and were laughing their asses off. They started throwing coconuts at the elephant, and finally one hit her square in the head. The elephant yelled, "YEOUCH!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ant said, "Yeah, that's riiight - take it all bitch!"</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/elephant-and-ant.html' title='The elephant and the ant...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115995702328160953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995702328160953'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995702328160953'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013061526893413</id><published>2006-10-21T10:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-23T16:25:00.980Z</updated><title type='text'>What I want in a man...</title><content type='html'>What I Want in a Man, Original List (age 22):&lt;br /&gt;1. Handsome&lt;br /&gt;2. Charming&lt;br /&gt;3. Witty&lt;br /&gt;4. Financially successful&lt;br /&gt;5. A caring listener&lt;br /&gt;6. In good shape&lt;br /&gt;7. Dresses with style&lt;br /&gt;8. Appreciates finer things&lt;br /&gt;9. Full of thoughtful surprises&lt;br /&gt;10. An imaginative and romantic lover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 32):&lt;br /&gt;1. Nice looking (prefer hair on his head)&lt;br /&gt;2. Opens car doors, holds chairs&lt;br /&gt;3. Has enough money for a nice dinner&lt;br /&gt;4. Listens as much as talks&lt;br /&gt;5. Carries bags of groceries with ease&lt;br /&gt;6. Laughs at my jokes&lt;br /&gt;7. Owns at least one tie&lt;br /&gt;8. Appreciates a good home-cooked meal&lt;br /&gt;9. Remembers birthdays and anniversaries&lt;br /&gt;10. Seeks romance at least once a week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 42):&lt;br /&gt;1. Not too ugly (bald head OK)&lt;br /&gt;2. Doesn't drive off until I'm in the car&lt;br /&gt;3. Works steady - splurges on dinner out occasionally&lt;br /&gt;4. Nods head when I'm talking&lt;br /&gt;5. Usually remembers punch lines of jokes&lt;br /&gt;6. Shaves most weekends&lt;br /&gt;7. Is in good enough shape to rearrange the furniture&lt;br /&gt;8. Wears a shirt that covers his stomach&lt;br /&gt;9. Knows not to buy champagne with screw-top lids&lt;br /&gt;10. Remembers to put the toilet seat down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 52):&lt;br /&gt;1. Keeps hair in nose and ears trimmed&lt;br /&gt;2. Doesn't belch or scratch in public&lt;br /&gt;3. Doesn't borrow money too often&lt;br /&gt;4. Doesn't nod off to sleep when I'm venting&lt;br /&gt;5. Doesn't re-tell the same joke too many times&lt;br /&gt;6. Appreciates a good TV dinner&lt;br /&gt;7. Is in good enough shape to get off couch on weekends&lt;br /&gt;8. Usually wears matching socks and fresh underwear&lt;br /&gt;9. Remembers my name on occasion&lt;br /&gt;10. Shaves some weekends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 62):&lt;br /&gt;1. Doesn't scare small children&lt;br /&gt;2. Remembers where bathroom is&lt;br /&gt;3. Doesn't require much money for upkeep&lt;br /&gt;4. Only snores lightly when asleep&lt;br /&gt;5. Remembers why he's laughing&lt;br /&gt;6. Likes soft foods&lt;br /&gt;7. Is in good enough shape to stand up by himself&lt;br /&gt;8. Usually wears clothes&lt;br /&gt;9. Remembers where he left his teeth&lt;br /&gt;10. Remembers that it's the weekend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 72):&lt;br /&gt;1. Breathing&lt;br /&gt;2. Doesn't miss the toilet</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/what-i-want-in-man.html' title='What I want in a man...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013061526893413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013061526893413'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013061526893413'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115995455850061227</id><published>2006-10-20T08:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-20T12:08:31.033Z</updated><title type='text'>Fun things to do in an elevator...</title><content type='html'>- Greet everyone getting on the elevator with a warm handshake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- On the top floor, hold the door open and demand that it stay open until you hear the penny you dropped down the shaft go "plink" at the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Stare, grinning, at another passenger for a while, and then announce: "I've got new socks on!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Wear "X-Ray Specs" and leer suggestively at other passengers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Stop at every floor, run off the elevator, then run back on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When at least 8 people have boarded, moan from the back: "Oh, no, not now, damn motion sickness!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Meow occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Whistle the first seven notes of "It's a Small World" incessantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: "Got enough air in there?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Stand silent and motionless in the corner, facing the wall, without getting off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, then act embarrassed when they open by themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Wear a puppet on your hand and talk to other passengers "through" it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When the elevator is silent, look around and ask "is that your phone?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Say "Ding!" at each floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Say "I wonder what all these do" and push the red buttons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Listen to the elevator walls with a stethoscope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Announce in a demonic voice: "I must find a more suitable host."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/fun-things-to-do-in-elevator.html' title='Fun things to do in an elevator...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115995455850061227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995455850061227'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995455850061227'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013110275522513</id><published>2006-10-19T10:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-20T11:29:49.070Z</updated><title type='text'>A cowboy rides his horse...</title><content type='html'>A cowboy rides his horse up to a saloon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the patrons gawked as the cowboy kissed his horse on the butt before coming in and asking for a drink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender serves him and asks, "Mind if I ask why ya kiss your horse on the ass?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cowboy says, "It's 'cause I got chapped lips." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender asks, "Does manure help them heal?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy replies, "No, but it keeps me from licking them."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/cowboy-rides-his-horse.html' title='A cowboy rides his horse...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013110275522513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013110275522513'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013110275522513'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013368672744652</id><published>2006-10-18T09:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-18T13:14:16.623Z</updated><title type='text'>Safe fax...</title><content type='html'>Q. Do I have to be married to have safe fax? &lt;br /&gt;A. Although married people fax quite often, there are many single people who fax complete strangers every day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What happens when I incorrectly do the procedure and fax prematurely? &lt;br /&gt;A. Don't panic. Many people fax prematurely when they haven't faxed in a long time. Just start over. Most people don't mind if you try again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. If I fax something to myself will I go blind? &lt;br /&gt;A. Certainly not, as far as we can see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. There's a place on our street where you can go and pay to fax. Is this legal? &lt;br /&gt;A. Yes. Many people have no other outlet for their fax needs and must pay a "professional" when their need to fax becomes too great.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. I have a personal and business fax. Can transmissions become mixed up? &lt;br /&gt;A. Being bi-faxual can be confusing, but as long as you use a cover with each one, you won't transmit anything you're not supposed to. However, be aware that you may be sending mixed signals if you are bi-faxual and that people may not know how to read you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Should a cover always be used for faxing? &lt;br /&gt;A. Unless you are really sure of the one to whom you are faxing, a cover should always be used to ensure safe fax.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/safe-fax.html' title='Safe fax...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013368672744652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013368672744652'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013368672744652'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013234966287932</id><published>2006-10-17T07:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-17T12:06:32.223Z</updated><title type='text'>Love is blind...</title><content type='html'>A boy was in his room playing with himself when his father walked in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Son! If you masturbate too much, you're gonna go blind!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dad," the boy said, "I'm over here."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/love-is-blind.html' title='Love is blind...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013234966287932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013234966287932'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013234966287932'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013271620523135</id><published>2006-10-16T11:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-16T07:40:40.166Z</updated><title type='text'>Things not to say to a cop...</title><content type='html'>I thought you had to be in relatively good physical shape to be a police officer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to be a cop, but I decided to finish high school instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad cop. No donut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're not going to check the trunk, are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gee, that gut sure doesn't inspire confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't reach my license unless you hold my beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry officer, I didn't realize my radar detector wasn't plugged in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't you the guy from the village people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, you must have been doing 125 to keep up with me, good job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it true that people become cops because they are too dumb to work at McDonalds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pay your salary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when I reached down to pick up my bag of crack, my gun fell off of my lap and got lodged between the brake and the gas pedal, forcing me to speed out of control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, is that a 9mm? That's nothing compared to this 44 magnum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, can you give me another one of those full cavity searches?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So uh, you on the take or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gee officer, that's terrific. The last officer only gave me a warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know why you pulled me over? Okay, just so one of us does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to keep up with traffic. Yes, I know there is no other cars around, that's how far they are ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean have I been drinking? You are the trained specialist.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/things-not-to-say-to-cop.html' title='Things not to say to a cop...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013271620523135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013271620523135'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013271620523135'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115995422846864845</id><published>2006-10-15T09:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-16T07:39:54.223Z</updated><title type='text'>Job application...</title><content type='html'>A jock and a geek were applying for the same job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boss said, "You need to take a test before you can get this job." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they both took the test and the next day they came back to see who was successful. "Well," he said, "Both of you got the same score except I'm going to choose the geek." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The jock complained, "Don't you think that's prejudice or something?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," the boss said, "Let me tell you what happened. Both of your papers were right all the way through until the last question came up, and the geek answered 'I don't know,' and then when I looked at your paper, you answered, 'Me either'.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/job-application.html' title='Job application...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115995422846864845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995422846864845'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995422846864845'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116013041516474638</id><published>2006-10-14T10:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-16T07:38:36.886Z</updated><title type='text'>Golf with a mobster...</title><content type='html'>One morning a man approached the first tee only to find another man approaching from the other side. They began talking and decided to play 9 holes together - after teeing off they sat off down the fairway continuing their chat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you do?" the first man asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a salesman. What about you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a hitman for the mob," replied the second man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hitman noticed that the 1st guy started getting a little nervous and continued, "Yeah, I'm the highest paid guy in the business. I'm the best." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stopped, sat down his bag of clubs, and pulled out a fancy, high powered rifle that was loaded with all types of scopes and sights. He then asked the man where he lived. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still nervous the man replied, "In a sub-division just west of here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hitman placed the gun against his shoulder, faced west, peered into a scope and asked "What color roof ya' got?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gray." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked "What color siding?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yellow." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You got a black Mercedes?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah," replied the first man who was now completely amazed by the accuracy of the hitman's equipment. "That's my wife's car." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That your red pickup next to it?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking baffled the man asked if he could look through the scope. Looking through the sights, he said "Hell. That's my buddy John's truck. What the hell is he doing there if I'm...?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hitman looked through the scope once more. "Your wife a blonde and your buddy got black hair?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man nodded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I don't know how to tell you, but I think you've got a problem. They're going at it like a couple of teenagers in there." said the hitman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Problem??! THEY'VE got the problem! I want you to shoot both of them! Right now!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hitman paused and said, "Sure. But it'll cost you. Like I said, I'm the best. I get paid $5000 per shot." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't care! Just do it! I want you to shoot her right in the head, and shoot him in the balls." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hitman agreed, turned, and took firing position. He carefully stared into the sights, taking careful aim. He then said, "You know what buddy, this is your lucky day. I think I can save you $5000!"</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/golf-with-mobster.html' title='Golf with a mobster...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116013041516474638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013041516474638'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116013041516474638'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-116005884131764028</id><published>2006-10-13T08:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-13T00:09:31.860Z</updated><title type='text'>A plane is on its way to Melbourne...</title><content type='html'>A plane is on its way to Melbourne when a blonde in Economy Class gets up and moves to the First Class section and sits down in a spare seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flight attendant watches her do this and asks to see her ticket. On producing her cheaper ticket, the hostess tells the blonde passenger that she's only paid for Economy and that she will have to go and sit in the back. The blonde replies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, I'm going to Melbourne and I'm staying right here!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The frustrated flight attendant goes into the cockpit and tells the pilot and co-pilot that there is some blonde bimbo sitting in First Class that belongs in Economy and won't move back to her seat. The co-pilot goes back to the First Class cabin and tries to explain to the blonde that because she only paid for Economy she is only entitled to an Economy place and she will have to leave and return to her original seat. The blonde replies once again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, I'm going to Melbourne and I'm staying just where I am!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exasperated the co-pilot tells the pilot that it was no use and that he probably should have the police waiting when they land to arrest this blonde woman who won't listen to reason. The pilot says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You say she's blonde? I'll handle this, I'm married to a blonde and over the years I've learnt to speak fluent blonde!" The co-pilot is immediately dubious and at the same time curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilot goes back to the blonde, whispers something in her ear and she replies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh dear, I am sorry, I had no idea," gets up and moves back to her seat in the rear of the aircraft. The flight attendant and co-pilot of course are amazed and asked the pilot what he said to make her return to her seat without any fuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pilot replies: "I told her First Class isn't going to Melbourne".</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/plane-is-on-its-way-to-melbourne.html' title='A plane is on its way to Melbourne...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=116005884131764028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116005884131764028'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/116005884131764028'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115995776220676184</id><published>2006-10-12T10:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-12T08:36:01.986Z</updated><title type='text'>A guy walked into a bar...</title><content type='html'>A guy walked into a bar one day and said to the barman, "Give me six double vodkas." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The barman says, "Wow! you must have had one hell of a day." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I've just found out my older brother is gay." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the same guy came into the bar and asked for the same drinks. When the bartender asked what the problem was today the answer came back, "I've just found out that my younger brother is gay also!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the third day the guy came into the bar and ordered another six double vodkas. The bartender said, "Jesus! Doesn't anybody in your family like women?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man downed the first drink and shook his head, "Yeah, my wife!"</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/guy-walked-into-bar.html' title='A guy walked into a bar...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115995776220676184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995776220676184'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995776220676184'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115995561072001470</id><published>2006-10-11T09:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-11T11:36:46.973Z</updated><title type='text'>CIA assassin test...</title><content type='html'>The CIA had an opening for an assassin - after all of the background checks, interviews and initial tests were done there were three finalists: two men and a woman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the final test the CIA agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun. "We must know that you will follow your instructions, no matter what the circumstances. Inside of this room, you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Kill her!" The man said, "You can’t be serious. I could never shoot my wife."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The agent said, "Then you’re *not* the right man for this job!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about five minutes. Then the man came out with tears in his eyes. "I tried, but I can’t kill my wife."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The agent said, "You don’t have what it takes - take your wife and go home!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it was the woman’s turn. She was given the same instructions - to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room - shots were heard - one shot after another - they heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes - all was quiet - the door opened slowly and there stood the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wiped the sweat from her brow and said, "You guys didn’t tell me the gun was loaded with blanks. I had to beat him to death with the chair."</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/cia-assassin-test.html' title='CIA assassin test...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115995561072001470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995561072001470'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995561072001470'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115995218807554212</id><published>2006-10-10T08:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-10T07:53:23.886Z</updated><title type='text'>The jewish student...</title><content type='html'>A Jewish student was doing well in school in all subjects except for Mathmatics - so his parents decided to send him to a private Catholic school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there the boy came home from school and studied every day and at the end of the term the boy got straight A's. So his parents asked him, "What motivated you to do so well in school?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "When I saw that guy nailed to a plus sign I knew they weren't fooling around!"</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/jewish-student.html' title='The jewish student...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115995218807554212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995218807554212'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995218807554212'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33895610.post-115995728899501277</id><published>2006-10-09T10:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-09T05:53:20.970Z</updated><title type='text'>Three kick rule...</title><content type='html'>A big city California lawyer went duck hunting in Texas. He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer’s field on the other side of a fence. As he climbed over the fence - an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The litigator responded, "I shot a duck and it fell into this field, and now I’m going to retrieve it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer replied, "This is my property and you are not coming over here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The indignant lawyer said, "I am one of the best lawyers in the US and if you don’t let me get that duck, I’ll sue you and take everything you own."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said, "Apparently, you don’t know how we do things in Texas. We settle small disagreements like this with the Texas Three-Kick Rule."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer asked, "What is the Texas Three-Kick Rule?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer replied, "Well, first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times, and so on, back and forth, until someone gives up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old man - he agreed to abide by the local custom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the city feller. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy work boot into the lawyer’s groin and dropped him to his knees. His second kick nearly wiped the man’s nose off his face. The lawyer was flat on his belly when the farmer’s third kick to a kidney nearly caused him to give up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet and said, "Okay, you old bugger! Now, it’s my turn!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said, "No, I give up. You can have the duck!"</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.gsoh.net/2006/10/three-kick-rule.html' title='Three kick rule...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33895610&amp;postID=115995728899501277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.gsoh.net/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995728899501277'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33895610/posts/default/115995728899501277'/><author><name>gsoh_net</name></author></entry></feed>