<?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-28500438</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:36:01.309-07:00</updated><category term='Random'/><category term='Holidays'/><category term='Marriage'/><category term='Lawyers'/><category term='RELIGION'/><category term='Technology'/><category term='Relationships'/><category term='Indians'/><category term='Drunken'/><category term='Political'/><category term='Animals'/><category term='Friendship'/><category term='Blondes'/><category term='Older Folks'/><category term='Golf'/><category term='Cowboys'/><category term='Women'/><category term='Employment'/><category term='Professional'/><category term='Men'/><category term='Texas'/><category term='Military'/><category term='Computers'/><category term='Children'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='Stupidity'/><category term='Sports'/><category term='Cultural'/><category term='Education'/><category term='Police'/><category term='Redneck Humor'/><title type='text'>Haydens Joke Page</title><subtitle type='html'>Some of the best e-mail jokes around!!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>478</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1324891815474146197</id><published>2007-06-21T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T13:05:38.947-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>POTATOES</title><content type='html'>An old man lived alone in the country. He wanted to dig his potato garden but it was very hard work as the ground was hard. His only son Fred, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Fred,&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't be able to plant my potato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here, all my troubles would be over I know you would dig the plot for me.&lt;br /&gt;Love,Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later he received a letter from his son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Dad,&lt;br /&gt;For heaven's sake, don't dig up that garden! That's where I buried the BODIES!&lt;br /&gt;Love, Fred&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 4am the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Dad,&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead and plant the potatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;Love, Fred&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1324891815474146197?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1324891815474146197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1324891815474146197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1324891815474146197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1324891815474146197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/potatoes.html' title='POTATOES'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6449577596922769452</id><published>2007-06-21T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T13:04:11.123-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Three Arkansas surgeons were playing golf together and discussing surgeries they had performed.&lt;br /&gt;One of them said, 'I'm the best surgeon in Arkansas - in my favorite case, a concert pianist lost seven fingers in an accident, I reattached them, and 8 months later he performed a private concert for the Queen of England.'&lt;br /&gt;The second surgeon said. 'That's nothing. A young man lost an arm and both legs in an accident, I reattached them, and 2 years later he won a gold Medal in track and field events in the Olympics.'&lt;br /&gt;The third surgeon said, 'You guys are amateurs. Several years ago a woman was high on cocaine and she rode a horse head-on into a train traveling at 80 miles an hour. All I had left to work with was the woman's blonde hair and the horse's ass. I was able to put them together and now she's running for President.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6449577596922769452?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6449577596922769452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6449577596922769452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6449577596922769452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6449577596922769452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/three-arkansas-surgeons-were-playing.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-8335346139069607058</id><published>2007-06-15T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T14:59:10.667-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If you need a good laugh, try reading through these children's science exam answers .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Name the four seasons.&lt;br /&gt;A: Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Explain one of the processes by which water can be made safe to drink.&lt;br /&gt;A: Flirtation makes water safe to drink because it removes large pollutants like grit, sand, dead sheep and canoeists.&lt;br /&gt;Q: How is dew formed?&lt;br /&gt;A: The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire.&lt;br /&gt;Q: How can you delay milk turning sour? (brilliant, love this!)&lt;br /&gt;A: Keep it in the cow.&lt;br /&gt;Q: What causes the tides in the oceans?&lt;br /&gt;A: The tides are a fight between the Earth and the Moon.  All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature hates a vacuum.   I forget where the sun joins in this fight.&lt;br /&gt;Q: What are steroids?&lt;br /&gt;A: Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;Q: What happens to your body as you age?&lt;br /&gt;A: When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental.&lt;br /&gt;Q: What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?&lt;br /&gt;A: He says good-bye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Name a major disease associated with cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;A: Premature death.&lt;br /&gt;Q: How are the main parts of the body categorized? (e.g., abdomen)&lt;br /&gt;A: The body is consisted into three parts -- the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. The brainium contains the brain; the borax contains the heart and lungs, and the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels A, E, I, O, and U.&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is the fibula?&lt;br /&gt;A: A small lie.&lt;br /&gt;Q: What does 'varicose' mean? (I do love this one...)&lt;br /&gt;A: Nearby.&lt;br /&gt;Q: Give the meaning of the term 'Caesarian Section.'&lt;br /&gt;A: The Caesarian Section is a district in Rome.&lt;br /&gt;Q: What does the word 'benign' mean?'&lt;br /&gt;A: Benign is what you will be after you be eight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-8335346139069607058?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/8335346139069607058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=8335346139069607058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8335346139069607058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8335346139069607058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/if-you-need-good-laugh-try-reading.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-9107568542269674476</id><published>2007-06-14T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T06:31:14.861-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Maxine took her car to her mechanic.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She told him "Every time I take any of my friends out in my car, after a while there is this terrible smell!!  But, it never happens when I am driving alone"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This intrigued the mechanic, so he said, "OK, lets go for a spin and see what the problem is." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off they went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She drove down a one-way street in the wrong direction at 70 MPH, swerving, hitting the curb on both sides of the street, narrowly missed three pedestrians in Pedestrian crossings, ran several red lights, and just missed a policeman on street traffic duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, they returned to the shop, and she said, "There it is now...there's that terrible smell!  Can you smell it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Smell it? Lady, I'm sittin' in it!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-9107568542269674476?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/9107568542269674476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=9107568542269674476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/9107568542269674476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/9107568542269674476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/maxine-took-her-car-to-her-mechanic.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4011318736987386776</id><published>2007-06-14T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T06:25:23.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The big game hunter walked in the bar and bragged to everyone about his hunting skills. The man was undoubtedly a good shot and no one would dispute that. Then he said that they could blindfold him and he would recognize any animal's skin from its feel and, if he could locate the bullet hole, he would even tell them what caliber the bullet was that killed the animal. The hunter said that he was willing to prove it if they would put up the drinks. So the bet was on.&lt;br /&gt;They blindfolded him carefully and took him to his first animal skin.  After feeling it for a few moments, he announced "Bear."  Then he felt the bullet hole and declared, "Shot with a .308 rifle." He was right.&lt;br /&gt;They brought him another skin from someone's car trunk. He took a bit longer this time and then said, "Elk. Shot with a 7mm Mag rifle. He was right again.  Through the night, he proved his skills again and again, every time against a round of drinks.  Finally he staggered home, drunk out of his mind and went to sleep.  The next morning he got up and saw in the mirror that he had one huge black eye.&lt;br /&gt;He said to his wife, "I know I was drunk last night, but not drunk  enough to get in a fight and not remember it. Where did I get this black eye?"&lt;br /&gt;His wife angrily replied, "I gave it to you. You got into bed, put your hand down my panties, fiddled around a bit and then loudly yelled, "Skunk.  killed with an axe."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4011318736987386776?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4011318736987386776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4011318736987386776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4011318736987386776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4011318736987386776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/big-game-hunter-walked-in-bar-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2959590260710751757</id><published>2007-06-14T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T06:21:18.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowboys'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A Cowboy meets an Indian herding sheep in the Black Hills ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "Nice dog you got there. Mind if I speak to him?"&lt;br /&gt;Indian: "Dog no talk."&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "Hey dog, how's it going?"&lt;br /&gt;Dog: "Doin' all right."&lt;br /&gt;Indian: (Look of shock!)&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "Is this Indian your owner?" (pointing at the Indian)&lt;br /&gt;Dog: "Yep."&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "How does he treat you?"&lt;br /&gt;Dog: "Real good. He walks me twice a day, feeds me great food and takes me to the lake once a week to play."&lt;br /&gt;Indian: (Look of total disbelief)&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "Mind if I talk to your horse?"&lt;br /&gt;Indian: "Horse no talk."&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "Hey horse, how's it going?"&lt;br /&gt;Horse: "Cool."&lt;br /&gt;Indian: (Extreme look of  shock!)&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "Is this your owner?" (pointing to the Indian)&lt;br /&gt;Horse: "Yep."&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "How's he treat you?"&lt;br /&gt;Horse: "Pretty good, thanks for asking, he rides me, brushes me down often, and keeps me in a lean-to to protect me from the weather."&lt;br /&gt;Indian: (Look of total amazement)&lt;br /&gt;Cowboy: "Mind if I talk to your sheep?"&lt;br /&gt;Indian: "Sheep lie."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2959590260710751757?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2959590260710751757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2959590260710751757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2959590260710751757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2959590260710751757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/cowboy-meets-indian-herding-sheep-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1404736720370181207</id><published>2007-06-14T06:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T06:18:27.603-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunken'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Seamus and Murphy fancied a pint or two but didn't have a lot of money between them; they could only raise the staggering sum of one Euro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murphy said "Hang on, I have an idea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went next door to the butcher's shop and came out with one large sausage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seamus said "Are you crazy? Now we don't have any money left at all!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murphy replied, "Don't worry - just follow me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went into the pub where he immediately ordered two Pints of Guinness and two glasses of Jameson Whisky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seamus said "Now you've lost it. Do you know how much trouble we will be in?  We haven't got any money!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murphy replied, with a "Don't worry; I have a plan, Cheers!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They downed their drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murphy said, "OK, I'll stick the sausage through my zipper and you go on your knees and put it in your mouth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The barman noticed them, went berserk, and threw them out.  They continued this, pub after pub, getting more and more drunk, all for free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the tenth pub Seamus said "Murphy - I don't think I can do any more of this. I'm drunk and me knees are killing' me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murphy said, "How do you think I feel? I lost the sausage in the third pub!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1404736720370181207?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1404736720370181207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1404736720370181207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1404736720370181207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1404736720370181207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/seamus-and-murphy-fancied-pint-or-two.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-718150312985069505</id><published>2007-06-14T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T06:15:50.953-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A boy and his date were parked on a back road some distance from town, doing what boys and girls do on back roads in the back seat some distance from town.  Things were getting hot and steamy when the girl stopped the boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I really should have mentioned this earlier, but I'm actually a prostitute and I charge $20 for sex.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy just looked at her for a couple of seconds, but then reluctantly paid her, and they did their thing.  After the cigarette, the boy just sat in the driver's seat looking out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why aren't we going anywhere?" asked the girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I should have mentioned this before, but I'm actually a taxi driver, and the fare back to town is $25."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-718150312985069505?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/718150312985069505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=718150312985069505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/718150312985069505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/718150312985069505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/boy-and-his-date-were-parked-on-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3828160396421684676</id><published>2007-06-07T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T08:23:56.790-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RELIGION'/><title type='text'>The Holes</title><content type='html'>An old lady dies and goes to heaven.  She's chatting it up with St Peter at the Pearly Gates when all of a sudden she hears the most awful, blood curdling screams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Don't worry about that,' says St. Peter, 'It's only someone having the holes put into her shoulder blades for wings.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old lady looks a little uncomfortable but carries on with the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes later, there are more blood curdling screams. 'Oh my God,' says the old lady, 'Now what is happening?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Not to worry,' says St. Peter, 'She's just having her head drilled to fit the halo.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I can't do this,' says the old lady, 'I'm going to Hell.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You can't go there,' says St. Peter. 'You'll be raped and taken advantage of.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Maybe so,'  says the old lady... 'But I've already got the holes for that.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3828160396421684676?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3828160396421684676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3828160396421684676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3828160396421684676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3828160396421684676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/holes.html' title='The Holes'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5907189822202362899</id><published>2007-06-06T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T12:51:25.705-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>True Story from Houston Medical Center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man went to the hospital to have his wedding ring cut off from his penis.  According to the Nurse attending, the patient's girl friend found the ring in his pants pocket and she got so mad at him, she used petroleum jelly to slip the ring on his penis while he was asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what's worse:&lt;br /&gt;1)  Having your girl friend find out you're married.&lt;br /&gt;2)  Explaining to your wife how your wedding ring got on your penis.&lt;br /&gt;3)  Or finding out your penis fits through your wedding ring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5907189822202362899?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5907189822202362899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5907189822202362899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5907189822202362899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5907189822202362899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/true-story-from-houston-medical-center.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3223278693465017959</id><published>2007-06-06T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T12:50:01.053-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Older Folks'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Hazards of Aging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will have to bring a smile to your face - maybe even make you laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two medical students were walking along the street when they saw an old man walking with his legs spread apart.  One of the students said to his friend: "I'm sure he has Petry Syndrome.  Those people walk just like that."&lt;br /&gt;The other student says: "No, I don't think so. The old man surely has Zovitzki Syndrome. He walks just as we learned in class."&lt;br /&gt;Since they couldn't agree they decided to ask the old man.  They approached him and one of the students said to him: "We're medical students and couldn't help but notice the way you walk, but we couldn't agree on the syndrome you might have. Could you tell us what it is?"&lt;br /&gt;The old man said: "I'll tell you, but first you must tell me what you think."&lt;br /&gt;One of the students said: "I think it's Petry Syndrome." The old man said: "You thought.......... But you are wrong."&lt;br /&gt;Then the other student said: "I think you have Zovitzki Syndrome."&lt;br /&gt;The old man said: "You thought.......... But you are wrong."&lt;br /&gt;So they asked him: "Well, what do you have?"&lt;br /&gt;The old man said: "I thought it was GAS........... But I was wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3223278693465017959?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3223278693465017959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3223278693465017959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3223278693465017959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3223278693465017959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/hazards-of-aging-this-will-have-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2761144491272003642</id><published>2007-06-06T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T12:46:21.111-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>The Pilots</title><content type='html'>Two men dressed in Pilots' uniforms walk up the aisle. Both are wearing dark glasses, one is using a guide dog, and the other is tapping his way along the aisle with a cane. Nervous laughter spreads through the cabin, but the men enter the cockpit, the door closes, and the engines start up. The passengers begin glancing nervously around, searching for some sign that this is just a little practical joke. But none is forthcoming. The plane moves faster and faster down the runway and the people sitting in the window seats realize they're headed straight for the water at the end of the runway. As it begins to look as though the plane will plow into the water, panicked screams fill the cabin. At that moment, the plane lifts smoothly into the air. The passengers relax and laugh a little sheepishly, and soon all retreat into their magazines, secure in the knowledge that the plane is in good hands. In the cockpit, one of the blind pilots turns to the other and says, 'You know, John, one of these days, they're gonna scream too late and we're all gonna die.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2761144491272003642?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2761144491272003642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2761144491272003642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2761144491272003642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2761144491272003642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/pilots.html' title='The Pilots'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3517668121196406459</id><published>2007-06-05T09:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T09:37:11.141-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Big People Words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A group of kindergartners were trying very hard to become accustomed  to the first grade. The biggest hurdle they faced was that the Teacher insisted on NO baby talk!&lt;br /&gt;"You need to use 'Big People' words," she was always reminding them. She asked Chris what he had done over the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I went to visit my Nana."&lt;br /&gt;"No, you went to visit your GRANDMOTHER. Use Big People' words!"&lt;br /&gt;She then asked Mitchell what he had done.&lt;br /&gt;"I took a ride on a chooChoo."&lt;br /&gt;She said "No, you took a ride on a TRAIN. You must remember to use "Big People' words."&lt;br /&gt;She then asked little Zach what he had done.&lt;br /&gt;"I read a book," he replied.&lt;br /&gt;"That's WONDERFUL!" the teacher said. "What book did you read?"&lt;br /&gt;Zach thought real hard about it, then puffed out his chest with great pride,and said, "Winnie the SHIT"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3517668121196406459?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3517668121196406459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3517668121196406459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3517668121196406459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3517668121196406459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/big-people-words-group-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7209752675436884729</id><published>2007-06-05T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T09:33:43.278-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunken'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Guy walks into a bar, notices a very large jar on the counter and  sees it's filled to the brim with $10 bills. He guesses there must  be thousands of dollars in it. &lt;br /&gt;He approaches the bartender and asks.  'What's up with the jar?"&lt;br /&gt;''Well, you pay $10 and if you pass three tests,  you get all the money."&lt;br /&gt;The man certainly isn't going to pass this up.&lt;br /&gt;"What are the three tests?"&lt;br /&gt;"Pay first, those are the rules." says the  bartender.&lt;br /&gt;So the man gives him the $10 and the bartender drops it into  the jar.&lt;br /&gt;"OK," the bartender says. "Here's what you need to do:  First, you have to drink that entire gallon of pepper tequila, the whole thing, all at once...and you can't make a face while doing  it.  Second, there's a pit bull chained up out back with a sore tooth.  You have to remove the tooth with your bare hands.  Third, there's a 90 year old woman upstairs who has never reached orgasm during  intercourse. You've gotta make things right for her."&lt;br /&gt;The man is stunned.  "I know I paid my $10, but I'm not an idiot, I won't do it! You have to be  nuts to drink a gallon of pepper tequila, and then do those other things..."&lt;br /&gt;''Your call," says the bartender, "but your money stays where it  is."&lt;br /&gt;As time goes on and the man has a few drinks, then a few more, he asks, "Wherez zat tequila?"&lt;br /&gt;He grabs the gallon with both hands and downs it with a big slurp.  Tears streaming down both cheeks, but he doesn't make a face.  Next, he staggers out back where the pit bull is chained up and soon the people inside the bar hear a huge, noisy, scuffle  going on outside.  They hear the pit bull barking, the guy screaming, the  pit bull yelping and then silence.  Just when they think the man surely must be dead, he staggers back into the bar, with his shirt ripped and large  bloody scratches all over his body.&lt;br /&gt;"Now," he says... "Where's the old woman with the sore tooth?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7209752675436884729?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7209752675436884729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7209752675436884729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7209752675436884729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7209752675436884729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/06/guy-walks-into-bar-notices-very-large.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5749497573459027510</id><published>2007-05-30T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T11:21:39.453-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>FUNERAL PROCESSION</title><content type='html'>(DON'T SKIP THE PRAYER AT THE END...ITS PRICELESS!) A woman was leaving a convenience store with her morning coffee when she noticed a most unusual funeral procession approaching the nearby cemetery.  A long black hearse was followed by a second long black hearse about 50 feet behind the first one.  Behind the second hearse was a solitary woman walking a pit bull on a leash.   Behind her, a short distance back, were about 200 women walking single file.  The woman couldn't stand her curiosity.  &lt;br /&gt;She respectfully approached the woman walking the dog and said, "I am so sorry for your loss, I know now is a bad time to disturb you, but I've never seen a funeral like this, who's funeral is it?"&lt;br /&gt;"My husband's."&lt;br /&gt;"What happened to him?"&lt;br /&gt;The woman replied, "My dog attacked and killed him."&lt;br /&gt;She inquired further, "Well, who is in the second hearse?"&lt;br /&gt;The woman answered, "My mother-in-law. She was trying to help my husband when the dog turned on her."&lt;br /&gt;A poignant and thoughtful moment of silence passed between the two women.&lt;br /&gt;"Can I borrow the dog?"&lt;br /&gt;"Get in line."&lt;br /&gt;A Woman's Prayer:&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord, I pray for Wisdom, to understand a man.  Love, to forgive him and Patience, for his moods.  Because, Lord, if I pray for strength, I'll just beat him to death.  Amen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5749497573459027510?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5749497573459027510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5749497573459027510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5749497573459027510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5749497573459027510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/funeral-procession.html' title='FUNERAL PROCESSION'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7607640726457766902</id><published>2007-05-30T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T11:18:36.689-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two couples were playing poker one evening.   John accidentally dropped some cards on the floor.   When he bent down under the table to pick them up, he noticed Bill's wife Sue wasn't wearing underwear under her dress!  Shocked by this, John, upon trying to sit back up again, hit his head on the table and emerged red-faced. Later, John went to the kitchen to get some refreshments. Bill's wife followed and asked, "Did you see anything that you liked under there?"&lt;br /&gt;Surprised by her boldness, John courageously admitted that, well indeed he did.&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Well, you can have it but it will cost you $500 ."&lt;br /&gt;After taking a minute or two to assess the financial and moral costs of this offer, John confirms that he is interested.   She tells him that since her husband Bill works Friday afternoons and John doesn't, John should be at her house around 2 p.m. Friday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;When Friday rolled around, John showed up at Bill's house at 2 p.m. sharp and after paying Sue the agreed sum of $500 they went to the bedroom and closed their transaction, as agreed.  John quickly dressed and left.&lt;br /&gt;As usual, Bill came home from work at 6 p.m. and upon entering the house, asked his wife abruptly did John come by the house this afternoon?&lt;br /&gt;Sue answered "Why yes, he did stop by for a few minutes this afternoon." Her heart nearly skipped a beat when her husband curtly asked, "And did he give you $500?"&lt;br /&gt;In terror she assumed that somehow he had found out and after mustering her best poker face, replied, "Well, yes, in fact he did give me $500,"&lt;br /&gt;Bill, with a satisfied look on his face, surprised his wife by saying, "Good, I was hoping he did.&lt;br /&gt;John came by the office this morning and borrowed $500 from me. He promised me he'd stop by our house this afternoon on his way home and pay me back."&lt;br /&gt;Now THAT, my friends, is a poker player!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7607640726457766902?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7607640726457766902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7607640726457766902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7607640726457766902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7607640726457766902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/two-couples-were-playing-poker-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2342421133634293971</id><published>2007-05-30T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T11:10:32.900-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For Dog Lovers The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his Tongue." - Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;"If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they Went." - Will Rogers&lt;br /&gt;"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves Himself." - Josh Billings&lt;br /&gt;"The average dog is a nicer person than the average person." - Andrew A. Rooney&lt;br /&gt;"Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate." - Sigmund Freud&lt;br /&gt;"If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons." - James Thurber&lt;br /&gt;"A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down." - Robert Benchley&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members of a weird religious Cult." - Rita Rudner&lt;br /&gt;"Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog."- Franklin P. Jones&lt;br /&gt;"If your dog is fat, you aren't getting enough exercise." - Unknown&lt;br /&gt;"My dog is worried about the economy because Alpo is up to $3.00 a can. That's almost $21.00 in dog money." - Joe Weinstein&lt;br /&gt;"Outside of a dog, a book is probably man's best friend; inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." - Groucho Marx&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder what goes through his mind when he sees us peeing in his water Bowl." - Penny Ward Moser&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2342421133634293971?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2342421133634293971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2342421133634293971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2342421133634293971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2342421133634293971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/for-dog-lovers-reason-dog-has-so-many.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6625279508090954515</id><published>2007-05-29T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T14:55:13.666-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>Johnny's back at school</title><content type='html'>Johnny's back at school&lt;br /&gt;The teacher asked, "Class use the word contagious in a sentence."&lt;br /&gt;Molly put her hand up and said, "My little sister has chickenpox and they are contagious."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher said, "Very good Molly."&lt;br /&gt;Sally raised her hand and said, "My little brother has the mumps and they are contagious".&lt;br /&gt;The teacher said, "Very good Sally."&lt;br /&gt;Little Johnny was jumping around in his seat, hand raise in the air, waving back and forth.  The teacher had been stung with Johnny's remarks before and was very reluctant to let him speak.  Unfortunately he was the only other child in the class with his hand up. So the teacher thought she better give him a chance.  "OK Johnny, give me a sentence with the word contagious in it"&lt;br /&gt;Johnny was all excited that he was given a chance.  He said, "Teacher my dad was sitting in the lawn chair with his friend drinking beer. My mom was cutting the lawn.  Dad said to his friend "It's going to take that contagious to cut the lawn."&lt;br /&gt;Johnny was expelled the next day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6625279508090954515?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6625279508090954515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6625279508090954515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6625279508090954515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6625279508090954515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/johnnys-back-at-school.html' title='Johnny&apos;s back at school'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-279515076094541543</id><published>2007-05-29T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T14:51:13.347-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Mom &amp; Dad,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Scoutmaster told us to write to our parents in case you saw the flood on TV and are worried.   We are okay.  Only one of our tents and 2 sleeping bags got washed away. Luckily, none of us got drowned because we were all up on the mountain looking for Adam when it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, please call Adam's mother and tell her he is okay. He can't write because of the cast. I got to ride in one of the search and rescue jeeps. It was neat. We never would have found Adam in the dark if it hadn't been for the lightning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scoutmaster Keith got mad at Adam for going on a hike alone without telling anyone. Adam said he did tell him, but it was during the fire so he probably didn't hear him. Did you know that if you put gas on a fire, the gas will blow up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wet wood didn't burn, but one of the tents did and also some of our clothes. Matthew is going to look weird until his hair grows back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Keith gets the bus fixed. It wasn't his fault about the wreck. The brakes worked okay when we left. Scoutmaster Keith said that with a bus that old you have to expect something to break down; that's probably why he can't get insurance.   We think it's a neat bus. He doesn't care if we get it dirty and if it's hot, sometimes he lets us ride on the fenders. It gets pretty hot with 45 people in a bus made for 24. He let us take turns riding in the trailer until the highway patrol man stopped and talked to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scoutmaster Keith is a neat guy. Don't worry, he is a good driver. In fact, he is teaching Jessie how to drive on the mountain roads where there isn't any cops. All we ever see up there are logging trucks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning all of the guys were diving off the rocks and swimming out to the rapids. Scoutmaster Keith wouldn't let me because I can't swim, and Adam was afraid he would sink because of his cast, it's concrete because we didn't have any plaster, so he let us take the canoe out.   It was great.   You can still see some of the trees under the water from the flood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scoutmaster Keith isn't crabby like some scoutmasters. He didn't even get mad about the life jackets. He has to spend a lot of time working on the bus so we are trying not to cause him any trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? We have all passed our first aid merit badges.  When Andrew dived into the lake and cut his arm, we got to see how a tourniquet works.  Steven and I threw up, but Scoutmaster Keith said it probably was just food poisoning from the leftover chicken. He said they got sick that way with food they ate in prison. I'm so glad he got out and became our scoutmaster. He said he sure figured out how to get things done better while he was doing his time. By the way, what is a pedal-file?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go now. We are going to town to mail our letters &amp; buy some more beer and ammo. Don't worry about anything. We are fine and tonight it's my turn to sleep in the Scoutmaster's tent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Jimmie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-279515076094541543?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/279515076094541543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=279515076094541543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/279515076094541543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/279515076094541543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/dear-mom-dad-our-scoutmaster-told-us-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1650414512983314597</id><published>2007-05-24T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T11:40:14.128-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'>HOW TO SAVE THE AIRLINES</title><content type='html'>HOW TO SAVE THE AIRLINES:&lt;br /&gt;Dump the male flight attendants. No one wanted them in the first place. Replace all the female flight attendants with good-looking strippers! What the hell. . . . They don't serve food anymore, so what's the loss? The strippers would at least triple the alcohol sales and get a  "party atmosphere" going in the cabin. And, of course, every businessman in this country would start flying again, hoping to see naked women. Because of the tips, female flight attendants wouldn't need a salary, thus saving even more money. I suspect tips would be so good that we could charge the women for working the plane and have them kick back 20% of the tips, including lap dances and "special services." Muslims would be afraid to get on the planes for fear of seeing naked women.  Hijackings would come to a screeching halt and the airline industry would see record revenues. This is definitely a win-win situation if we handle it right -- a golden opportunity to turn a liability into an asset. Why didn't Bush think of this? Why do I still  have to do everything myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Bill Clinton&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1650414512983314597?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1650414512983314597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1650414512983314597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1650414512983314597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1650414512983314597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-to-save-airlines.html' title='HOW TO SAVE THE AIRLINES'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4286925097749254283</id><published>2007-05-24T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T11:38:45.062-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>A VERY BRAVE MAN WROTE THIS</title><content type='html'>A VERY BRAVE MAN WROTE THIS&lt;br /&gt; (He may already be gone from us) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son asked his mother the following question:&lt;br /&gt;"Mum, why are wedding dresses white?"&lt;br /&gt;The mother looks at her son and replies, "Son, this shows your friends and relatives that your bride is pure." &lt;br /&gt;The son thanks his Mum and goes off to double-check this with his father.&lt;br /&gt;"Dad why are wedding dresses white?"&lt;br /&gt;The father looks at his son in surprise and says, "Son, all household appliances come in white."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4286925097749254283?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4286925097749254283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4286925097749254283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4286925097749254283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4286925097749254283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/very-brave-man-wrote-this.html' title='A VERY BRAVE MAN WROTE THIS'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-781980549745542655</id><published>2007-05-22T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T08:43:54.558-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man walks into a restaurant with a full-grown ostrich behind him.   The waitress asks for their orders. The man says, "A hamburger, fries and  a coke," and turns to the ostrich, "What's yours?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'll have the same," says the ostrich.&lt;br /&gt;A short time later the waitress returns with the order. "That will be $9.40 please," and the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change for payment.&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the man and the ostrich come again and the man says, "A hamburger, fries, and a coke."&lt;br /&gt;The ostrich says, "I'll have the same."&lt;br /&gt;Again the man reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change. This becomes routine until, the two enter again.&lt;br /&gt;"The usual?" asks the waitress.&lt;br /&gt;"No, this is Friday night, so I will have a steak, baked potato, and salad," says the man.&lt;br /&gt;"Same," says the ostrich.&lt;br /&gt;Shortly the waitress brings the order and says, "That will be $32.62."&lt;br /&gt;Once again the man pulls the exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.&lt;br /&gt;The waitress can't hold back her curiosity any longer. "Excuse me, sir. How do you manage to always come up with the exact change out of your pocket every time?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well," says the man, "several years ago I was cleaning the attic and found an old lamp. When I rubbed it a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes. My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there."&lt;br /&gt;"That's brilliant!" says the waitress. "Most people would wish for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want for as long as you live!"&lt;br /&gt;"That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there," says the man.&lt;br /&gt;The waitress asks, "But, sir, what's with the ostrich?"&lt;br /&gt;The man sighs, pauses, and answers, "My second wish was for a tall chick with a big ass and long legs who agrees with everything I say."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-781980549745542655?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/781980549745542655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=781980549745542655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/781980549745542655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/781980549745542655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/man-walks-into-restaurant-with-full.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2406056208636758126</id><published>2007-05-22T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T08:39:37.445-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A farmer went out one day and bought a brand new stud rooster for his chicken coop. The new rooster struts over to the old rooster and says,  "Ok old timer, time for you to retire."&lt;br /&gt;The old rooster replies, "Come on, surely you cannot handle ALL of these hens. Look what it has done to me. Can't you just let me have the two old hens over in the corner?"&lt;br /&gt;The young rooster says, "Beat it! You are washed up and I am taking over.."&lt;br /&gt;The old rooster says, "I tell you what, young stud.  I will race you around the farmhouse. Whoever wins gets exclusive domain over the entire chicken coop."&lt;br /&gt;The young rooster laughs. "You know you don't stand a chance, old man.  So, just to be fair, I will give you a head start."&lt;br /&gt;The old rooster takes off running. About 15 seconds later the young rooster takes off running after him. They round the front porch of the farmhouse and the young rooster has closed the gap. He is only about 5 feet behind the old rooster and gaining fast. The farmer, meanwhile, is sitting in his usual spot on the front porch when he sees the roosters go running by.&lt;br /&gt;He grabs his shotgun and - BOOM - he blows the young rooster to bits.  The farmer sadly shakes his head and says, "Damn.....third gay rooster I bought this month."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2406056208636758126?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2406056208636758126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2406056208636758126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2406056208636758126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2406056208636758126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/farmer-went-out-one-day-and-bought.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7414179646002721096</id><published>2007-05-22T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T08:35:55.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An old farmer had a wife who nagged him unmercifully. From morning till night (and sometimes later), she was always complaining about something.   The only time he got any relief was when he was out plowing with his old mule. He tried to plow a lot.&lt;br /&gt;One day, when he was out plowing, his wife brought him lunch in the field. He drove the old mule into the shade, sat down on a stump, and began to eat his lunch. Immediately, his wife began harrassing him again.   Complain, nag, nag; it just went on and on.&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden, the old mule lashed out with both hind feet; caught her smack in the back of the head. Killed her dead on the spot.   At the funeral several days later, the minister noticed something rather odd. When a woman mourner would approach the old farmer, he would&lt;br /&gt;listen for a minute, then nod his head in agreement; but when a man mourner approached him, he would listen for a minute, then shake his head in disagreement. This was so consistent, the minister decided to ask  the old farmer about it.&lt;br /&gt;So after the funeral, the minister spoke to the old farmer, and asked him why he nodded his head and agreed with the women, but always shook his head and disagreed with all the men.&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer said: "Well, the women would come up and say something about how nice my wife looked, or how pretty her dress was, so I'd nod my head in agreement."&lt;br /&gt;"And what about the men?" the minister asked.&lt;br /&gt;"They wanted to know if the mule was for sale."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7414179646002721096?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7414179646002721096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7414179646002721096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7414179646002721096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7414179646002721096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/old-farmer-had-wife-who-nagged-him.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-8142321172657167322</id><published>2007-05-17T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T14:58:03.698-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyers'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Judge, the Lawyers, and the jury panel were assembled for the trial and the defense Lawyer was questioning a little old lady for the jury.&lt;br /&gt;Defense Lawyer;  "Do you know me?"&lt;br /&gt;Little Old Lady   "I sure do. I've known you all your life, and you were the worst little boy on the block, and you grew up to be one of the worst man in town. The way you cheat on your wife is a shame."&lt;br /&gt;The Lawyer was taken aback, but recovered enough to ask her if she knew the prosecuting attorney.&lt;br /&gt;"I sure do, if there is anyone in town worse than you, it is him. He runs around on his wife and gambles too."&lt;br /&gt;The Lawyer felt a little better but the judge bangs his gavel and says "Court is adjourned for 15 minute recess. You Lawyers meet me in my chambers!"&lt;br /&gt;The Judge and Lawyers meet in the judges chambers and the Judge gives the lawyers a stern look and says "If either one of you clowns ask her if she knows me, your going to jail"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-8142321172657167322?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/8142321172657167322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=8142321172657167322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8142321172657167322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8142321172657167322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/judge-lawyers-and-jury-panel-were.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5470635491479944805</id><published>2007-05-16T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T06:30:14.594-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So as not to be outdone by all the redneck, hillbilly, and Texan jokes.  You know you're from California if:&lt;br /&gt;1. Your coworker has 8 body piercings and none are visible.&lt;br /&gt;2. You make over $300,000 and still can't afford a house.&lt;br /&gt;3. You take a bus and are shocked at two people carrying on a conversation in English.&lt;br /&gt;4. Your child's 3rd-grade teacher has purple hair, a nose ring, and is named Flower&lt;br /&gt;5. You can't remember . . Is pot illegal?&lt;br /&gt;6. You've been to a baby shower that has two mothers and a sperm donor.&lt;br /&gt;7. You have a very strong opinion about where your coffee beans are grown, and you can taste the difference between Sumatran and Ethiopian.&lt;br /&gt;8. You can't remember . .. . Is pot illegal?&lt;br /&gt;9. A really great parking space can totally move you to tears.&lt;br /&gt;10. Gas costs $1.00 per gallon more than anywhere else in the U.S.&lt;br /&gt;11. Unlike back home, the guy at 8:30 am at Starbucks wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses who looks like George Clooney really IS George Clooney.&lt;br /&gt;12. Your car insurance costs as much as your house payment.&lt;br /&gt;13. You can't remember . .. .is pot illegal?&lt;br /&gt;14. It's barely sprinkling rain and there's a report on every news station: "STORM WATCH."&lt;br /&gt;15 You pass an elementary school playground and the children are all busy with their cells or pagers.&lt;br /&gt;16. It's barely sprinkling rain outside, so you leave for work an hour early to avoid all the weather-related accidents.&lt;br /&gt;17. HEY!!!! Is pot illegal????&lt;br /&gt;18. Both you AND your dog have therapists, psychics, personal trainers and cosmetic surgeons.&lt;br /&gt;19. The Terminator is your Governor.&lt;br /&gt;20. If you drive illegally, they take your driver's license. If you're here illegally, they want to give you one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5470635491479944805?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5470635491479944805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5470635491479944805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5470635491479944805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5470635491479944805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/so-as-not-to-be-outdone-by-all-redneck.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4922287126556246985</id><published>2007-05-14T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T14:33:39.107-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A local law enforcement officer stops a car for traveling faster than the posted speed limit. Since he's in a good mood that day he decides to give the poor fellow a break and write him out a warning instead of a ticket.  So, he asks the man his name.&lt;br /&gt;"Fred," he replies.&lt;br /&gt;"Fred what?" the officer asks.&lt;br /&gt;"Just Fred," the man responds.&lt;br /&gt;When the officer presses him for a last name, the man tells him that he used to have a last name but lost it.  The officer thinks he has a nut case on his hands but plays along with it.&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me Fred, how did you lose your last name?"&lt;br /&gt;The man replies, "It's a long story so stay with me.  I was born Fred Dingaling. I know, funny last name. The kids used to tease me all the time. So I stayed to myself. I studied hard and got  good grades.  When I got older I realized that I wanted to be a doctor. I went through college, medical school, internship residency, finally got my degree so I was Fred Dingaling, MD. "  After a while I got bored being a doctor so I decided to go back to school.  Dentistry was my dream. Got all the way through school, got my degree so I was now Fred Dingaling, MD, DDS. Got bored doing dentistry so I started fooling around with my assistant. She gave me VD. So, I was Fred Dingaling, MD, DDS with VD.  Well, the ADA found out about the VD so they took away my DDS so I was Fred Dingaling, MD with VD.  Then the AMA found out about the ADA taking away my DDS because of the VD, so they took away my MD leaving me as Fred Dingaling with VD.  Then the VD took away my dingaling so now I'm just Fred."&lt;br /&gt;The officer walked away in tears laughing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4922287126556246985?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4922287126556246985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4922287126556246985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4922287126556246985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4922287126556246985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/local-law-enforcement-officer-stops-car.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1383445868457176758</id><published>2007-05-14T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T14:27:36.695-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>While she was "flying down the road" yesterday, a woman passed over a bridge only to find a cop with a radar gun on the other side lying in wait.    The cop pulled her over, walked up to the car, with that classic patronizing smirk we all know and love, asked, "What's your hurry?"&lt;br /&gt;She replied----"I'm late for work,"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Yeah," said the cop, "What do you do?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a Rectum Stretcher,"   She responded.&lt;br /&gt;The cop stammered, "A What?"   &lt;br /&gt;"A Rectum Stretcher?"   &lt;br /&gt;"And just what does a Rectum Stretcher do?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well," she said, "I start by inserting one finger, then work my way to 2 fingers, then 3, then 4, then with my whole hand in, I work from side to side until I can get both hands in, and then I slowly stretch it, until its about 6 feet wide."&lt;br /&gt;"And what the Hell do you do with a 6 foot asshole?"  He asked.&lt;br /&gt;"You give him a radar gun and you park him behind a bridge........"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic ticket.....$95.00&lt;br /&gt;Court costs.......$45.00&lt;br /&gt;LOOK ON COPS FACE.........."PRICELESS"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1383445868457176758?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1383445868457176758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1383445868457176758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1383445868457176758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1383445868457176758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/while-she-was-flying-down-road.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2556941295846858883</id><published>2007-05-10T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T06:32:10.599-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Redneck Humor'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>While Bubba and Earl were in  the local Wal-Mart, they decided to get in on the weekly charity raffle.  They bought five tickets each at a dollar a  pop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following week, when the raffle was drawn, each had won a prize. Earl won 1st place - a year's supply of  gourmet spaghetti sauce and extra long spaghetti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba won 6th prize - a toilet  brush. About a week or so had passed when the men met back at  Wal-Mart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba asked Earl how he liked his  prize, to which Billy Bob replied, "Great!, I love  spaghetti!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earl asked Bubba, "How 'bout you,  how's the toilet brush?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not so good," replied  Bubba,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm thinking 'bout switching back to paper."  Hav'n a hard time walk'n"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2556941295846858883?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2556941295846858883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2556941295846858883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2556941295846858883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2556941295846858883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/while-bubba-and-earl-were-in-local-wal.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5050621394486700958</id><published>2007-05-09T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T06:16:18.718-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RELIGION'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Life Explained</title><content type='html'>On the first day, God created the dog and said:"Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years."&lt;br /&gt;The dog said: "That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?"&lt;br /&gt;So God agreed. &lt;br /&gt;On the second day, God created the monkey and said:  "Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I 'll give you a twenty-year life span."&lt;br /&gt;The monkey said: "Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the dog did?"&lt;br /&gt;And God agreed.&lt;br /&gt;On the third day, God created the cow and said:  "You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family, for this, I will give you a life span of sixty years."&lt;br /&gt;The cow said: "That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?"&lt;br /&gt;And God agreed again.&lt;br /&gt;On the fourth day, God created man and said: "Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years."  But man said: "Only twenty years ? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?"&lt;br /&gt;"Okay," said God, "You asked for it."&lt;br /&gt;So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family.  For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.   Life has now been explained to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5050621394486700958?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5050621394486700958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5050621394486700958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5050621394486700958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5050621394486700958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-explained.html' title='Life Explained'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4326732312279754514</id><published>2007-05-08T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:33:38.140-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>Things my Mother taugh me.</title><content type='html'>1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.  "If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."&lt;br /&gt;2. My mother taught me RELIGION. "You better pray that will come out of the carpet."&lt;br /&gt;3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL. "If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"&lt;br /&gt;4. My mother taught me LOGIC. "Because I said so, that's why."&lt;br /&gt;5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.  "If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."&lt;br /&gt;6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT. "Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."&lt;br /&gt;7. My mother taught me IRONY. "Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about."&lt;br /&gt;8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS. "Shut your mouth and eat your supper."&lt;br /&gt;9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM. "Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"&lt;br /&gt;10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.  "You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."&lt;br /&gt;11. My mother taught me about WEATHER. "This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."&lt;br /&gt;12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY. "If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"&lt;br /&gt;13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE. "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."&lt;br /&gt;14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION. "Stop acting like your father!"&lt;br /&gt;15. My mother taught me about ENVY. "There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."&lt;br /&gt;16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.  "Just wait until we get home."&lt;br /&gt;17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING. "You are going to get it when you get home!"&lt;br /&gt;18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE. "If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."&lt;br /&gt;19. My mother taught me ESP. "Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"&lt;br /&gt;20. My mother taught me HUMOR. "When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."&lt;br /&gt;21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT. "If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."&lt;br /&gt;22. My mother taught me GENETICS. "You're just like your father."&lt;br /&gt;23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS. "Shut that door behind you.  Do you think you were born in a barn?"&lt;br /&gt;24. My mother taught me WISDOM. "When you get to be my age, you'll understand."&lt;br /&gt;25. And my favorite: my mother taught me about JUSTICE. "One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4326732312279754514?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4326732312279754514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4326732312279754514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4326732312279754514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4326732312279754514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/things-my-mother-taugh-me.html' title='Things my Mother taugh me.'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5304173486974519244</id><published>2007-05-08T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:26:56.939-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RELIGION'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose girl."&lt;br /&gt;The priest asks, "Is that you, little Johnny Parisi?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Father, it is."&lt;br /&gt;"And who was the girl you were with?"&lt;br /&gt;"I can't tell you, Father, I don't want to ruin her reputation."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, Johnny, I'm sure to find out her name sooner or later, so you may as well tell me now.  Was it Tina Minetti?"&lt;br /&gt;"I cannot say."&lt;br /&gt;"Was it Teresa Volpe?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'll never tell."&lt;br /&gt;"Was it Nina Capelli?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry, but I cannot name her."&lt;br /&gt;"Was it Cathy Piriano?"&lt;br /&gt;"My lips are sealed."&lt;br /&gt;"Was it Rosa Di Angelo, then?"&lt;br /&gt;"Please, Father, I cannot tell you."&lt;br /&gt;The priest sighs in frustration.  "You're very tight lipped, Johnny Parisi, and I admire that.   But you've sinned and have to atone. You cannot be an altar boy now for 4 months. Now you go and behave yourself."&lt;br /&gt;Johnny walks back to his pew, and his friend Nino slides over and whispers, "What'd you get?"&lt;br /&gt;"4 months vacation and five good leads."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5304173486974519244?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5304173486974519244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5304173486974519244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5304173486974519244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5304173486974519244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/bless-me-father-for-i-have-sinned.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-8832981962646022985</id><published>2007-05-08T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:23:38.443-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two alligators were relaxing in the swamp talking.  The smaller one turned to the bigger one and said,  "I can't understand how you kin be so much bigger 'n  me.  We're the same age, and we was the same size as kids.  I just don't get it."&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said the big 'gator, "What you been eatin', boy?"&lt;br /&gt;"Politicians, same as you," replied the small 'gator.&lt;br /&gt;"Hmm. Well, where do y'all catch 'em?"&lt;br /&gt;"Down 'tother side of the swamp Near the parkin' lot by the capitol."&lt;br /&gt;"Same here. Hmm. How do you catch 'em?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I crawls up into one of them Lexus and wait fer one to open the car door. Then I jump out, grab 'em on the leg, shake the shit out of 'em, and eat 'em!"&lt;br /&gt;"Ah!" says the big alligator, "I think I see your problem.   You ain't getting any real nourishment.  See, by the time you get done shakin' the shit out of a Politician, there ain't nothin' left but an asshole and a briefcase!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-8832981962646022985?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/8832981962646022985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=8832981962646022985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8832981962646022985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8832981962646022985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/two-alligators-were-relaxing-in-swamp.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4229669392109555164</id><published>2007-05-08T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:19:33.759-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A teacher is explaining biology to her 4th grade students: &lt;br /&gt;"Human beings are the only animals that stutter", she says.&lt;br /&gt;A little girl raises her hand. "I had a kitty-cat who stuttered", she volunteered.&lt;br /&gt;The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories could become, asked the girl to describe the incident.&lt;br /&gt;"Well", she began, "I was in the back yard with my kitty and the Rottweiler who lives next door got a running start and before we knew it, he jumped over the fence into our yard!"&lt;br /&gt;"That must've been scary", said the teacher.&lt;br /&gt;"It sure was", said the little girl. "My kitty went 'Fffff, Fffff, Fffff'... And before he could say 'Fuck!' the Rottweiler ate him!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4229669392109555164?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4229669392109555164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4229669392109555164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4229669392109555164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4229669392109555164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/teacher-is-explaining-biology-to-her.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5009255939769295784</id><published>2007-05-08T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:18:00.941-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RELIGION'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>SITTING BEHIND A COUPLE OF NUNS AT A BASEBALL GAME (WHOSE HABITS PARTIALLY BLOCKED THE VIEW), THREE MEN DECIDED TO BADGER THE NUNS IN AN EFFORT TO GET THEM TO MOVE. &lt;br /&gt;IN A VERY LOUD VOICE, THE FIRST GUY SAID,  "I THINK I'M GOING TO MOVE TO UTAH, THERE ARE ONLY 100 NUNS LIVING THERE."&lt;br /&gt;THE SECOND GUY SPOKE UP AND SAID, "I WANT TO GO TO MONTANA, THERE ARE ONLY 5O NUNS LIVING THERE."&lt;br /&gt;THE THIRD GUY SAID, "I WANT TO GO TO IDAHO, THERE ARE ONLY 25 NUNS LIVING THERE."&lt;br /&gt;ONE OF THE NUNS TURNED AROUND, LOOKED AT THE MEN, AND IN A VERY SWEET, CALM, VOICE SAID, "WHY DON'T YOU JUST GO TO HELL ...THERE AREN'T ANY NUNS THERE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5009255939769295784?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5009255939769295784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5009255939769295784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5009255939769295784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5009255939769295784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/sitting-behind-couple-of-nuns-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4199971372052458963</id><published>2007-05-08T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:15:53.249-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blondes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I pulled into a crowded parking lot and rolled down the car windows to make sure my Labrador Retriever had fresh air.  She was stretched out on the back seat, and I wanted to impress upon her that she must remain there.&lt;br /&gt;I walked to the curb backward, pointing my finger at the car and saying emphatically,"Now you stay."&lt;br /&gt;"Do you hear me?"&lt;br /&gt;"Stay!"&lt;br /&gt;"Stay!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driver of a nearby car, perhaps noting that I am a blonde, gave me a strange look and said, "Why don't you just put it in park?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4199971372052458963?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4199971372052458963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4199971372052458963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4199971372052458963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4199971372052458963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-pulled-into-crowded-parking-lot-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2736762613613408758</id><published>2007-05-04T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T06:06:37.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Abe and Esther are flying to Australia for a two-week vacation to Celebrate their 40th anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, over the public address system, the Captain announces, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am afraid I have some very bad news. Our engines have ceased functioning and we will attempt an emergency landing. Luckily, I see an uncharted island below us and we should be able to land on the beach. However, the odds are that we may never be rescued and will have to live on the island for the rest of our lives!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the skill of the flight crew, the plane lands safely on the Island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later Abe turns to his wife and asks,"Esther, did we pay our $5,000 PBS pledge check yet?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, sweetheart," she responds.&lt;br /&gt;Abe, still shaken from the crash landing, then asks, "Esther, did we pay our American Express card yet?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no! I'm sorry. I forgot to send the check," she says.&lt;br /&gt;"One last thing, Esther. Did you remember to send checks for the Visa and MasterCard this month?" he asks.&lt;br /&gt;"Oy, forgive me, Abie," begged Esther. "I didn't send that one, either."&lt;br /&gt;Abe grabs her and gives her the biggest kiss in 40 years.  Esther pulls away and asks him, "What was that for?"&lt;br /&gt;Abe answers, "They'll find us!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2736762613613408758?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2736762613613408758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2736762613613408758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2736762613613408758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2736762613613408758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/abe-and-esther-are-flying-to-australia.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5082710159380611248</id><published>2007-05-03T10:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T10:36:40.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;At three minutes and four &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;seconds after 2 AM on the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;6th of May this year, the time &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;and date will be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; 02:03:04 05/06/07. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;This will never happen again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5082710159380611248?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5082710159380611248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5082710159380611248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5082710159380611248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5082710159380611248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/at-three-minutes-and-four-seconds-after.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2714776618991083087</id><published>2007-05-03T10:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T10:35:08.649-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The inventor of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle, Arthur Davidson, died and went to heaven.  At the gates, St. Peter told Arthur, "Since you've been such a good man and your motorcycles have changed the world, your reward is, you can hang out with anyone you want in Heaven."&lt;br /&gt;Arthur thought about it for a minute and then said,"I want to hang out with God."&lt;br /&gt;St.  Peter took Arthur to the Throne Room and introduced him to God.  God recognized Arthur and commented, "Okay, so you were the one who invented the Harley Davidson motorcycle?"&lt;br /&gt;Arthur said, "Yep, that's me."&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Well, what's the big deal in inventing something that's pretty unstable, makes noise and pollution and can't run without a road?"&lt;br /&gt;Arthur was apparently embarrassed, but finally he said, "Excuse me, but aren't You the inventor of woman?"&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said Arthur, "professional to professional, you have some major design flaws in your invention:  1.  There's too much inconsistency in the front-end protrusions;  2.  It chatters constantly at high speeds; 3.  Most of the rear ends are too soft and wobble too much;  4.  The intake is placed way too close to the exhaust;  5.  And the maintenance costs are enormous!"&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmmmm, you may have some good points there,"  replied God, "Hold on."&lt;br /&gt;God went to His Celestial super computer,  typed in a few words and waited for the results.&lt;br /&gt;The computer printed out a slip of paper and God read it "Well, it may be true that my invention is flawed," God said to Arthur, "but according to these numbers, more men are riding my invention than yours."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2714776618991083087?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2714776618991083087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2714776618991083087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2714776618991083087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2714776618991083087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/inventor-of-harley-davidson-motorcycle.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3647205277342958404</id><published>2007-05-03T10:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T10:30:57.175-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Research</title><content type='html'>The American Government funded a study to see why the head of a man's Penis was larger than the shaft. After 1 year and $180,000, they concluded that the reason that the head was larger than the shaft was to give the man morepleasure during sex.After the US published the study, the French decided to do their own study. After $250,000 and 3 years of research, they concluded that the reason the head was larger than the shaft was to give the woman more pleasure during sex.Canadians, unsatisfied with these findings, conducted their own study. After 2 weeks and a cost of around $75.46, and 2 cases of beer, they concluded that it was to keep a man's hand from flying off and hitting himself in the forehead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3647205277342958404?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3647205277342958404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3647205277342958404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3647205277342958404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3647205277342958404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/research.html' title='Research'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2155593001113415782</id><published>2007-05-03T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T06:21:50.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is what we have been waiting for...the answers to the 5 most  important questions in the world:&lt;br /&gt;Q1. WHAT ARE THE SMALL BUMPS AROUND A WOMAN'S NIPPLES FOR?&lt;br /&gt;A: It's Braille for "suck here".&lt;br /&gt;Q2. WHAT IS AN AUSTRALIAN KISS?&lt;br /&gt;A: It's the same as a French kiss, only "down under."&lt;br /&gt;Q3. WHAT DO YOU DO WITH 365 USED CONDOMS?&lt;br /&gt;A: Melt them down, make a tire, and call it a Goodyear.&lt;br /&gt;Q4. WHY ARE HURRICANES NORMALLY NAMED AFTER WOMEN?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because, when they come, they're wild and wet. But when they go, they take your house and car with them.&lt;br /&gt;Q5. WHY DO GIRLS RUB THEIR EYES WHEN THEY GET UP IN THE MORNING?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because they don't have any balls to scratch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you know everything you need to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2155593001113415782?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2155593001113415782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2155593001113415782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2155593001113415782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2155593001113415782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/this-is-what-we-have-been-waiting-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4673737945782291857</id><published>2007-05-02T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T06:42:46.313-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Older Folks'/><title type='text'>Wisdom from Grandpa.....</title><content type='html'>Whether a man winds up with a nest egg, or a goose egg, depends a lot on the kind of chick he marries.&lt;br /&gt;Trouble in marriage often starts when a man gets so busy earnin' his salt that he forgets his sugar.&lt;br /&gt;Too many couples marry for better, or for worse, but not for good.&lt;br /&gt;When a man marries a woman, they become one; but the trouble starts when they try to decide which one.&lt;br /&gt;If a man has enough horse sense to treat his wife like a thoroughbred, she will never turn into an old nag.&lt;br /&gt;On anniversaries, the wise husband always forgets the past - but never the present.&lt;br /&gt;Some people try to turn back their odometers.  Not me, I want people to know "why" I look this way. I've traveled a long way and some of the roads weren't paved.&lt;br /&gt;How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?&lt;br /&gt;You know you are getting old, when everything either dries up or leaks.&lt;br /&gt;Old age is when former classmates are so gray and wrinkled and bald, they don't recognize you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4673737945782291857?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4673737945782291857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4673737945782291857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4673737945782291857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4673737945782291857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/wisdom-from-grandpa.html' title='Wisdom from Grandpa.....'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4682690549280894676</id><published>2007-05-01T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T14:11:12.364-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Three Labrador retrievers -- one brown, one yellow and one black were sitting in the waiting room at the vet's surgery when they struck up a conversation.&lt;br /&gt;The black lab turned to the brown and said, "So why are you here?"&lt;br /&gt;The brown lab replied, "I'm a pisser. I piss on everything--the sofa the curtains, the cat, the kids. But the final straw was last night when I pissed in the middle of my owner's bed."&lt;br /&gt;The black lab said, "So what is the vet going to do?"&lt;br /&gt;"Gonna cut my nuts off," came the reply from the brown lab.  "They reckon it'll calm me down."&lt;br /&gt;The black lab then turned to the yellow lab and asked, "Why are you here?"&lt;br /&gt;The yellow lab said, "I'm a digger. I dig under fences, dig up flowers and trees, I dig just for the hell of it. When I'm inside I dig up the carpets. But I went over the line last night when I dug a great big hole in my owner's couch."&lt;br /&gt;"So what are they going to do to you?" the black lab inquired.&lt;br /&gt;"Looks like I'm losing my nuts too." The dejected yellow lab said.&lt;br /&gt;The yellow lab then turned to the black lab and asked, "Why are you here?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a humper," the black lab said. "I'll hump the cat, a pillow, the table, postboxes, what ever. I want to hump everything I see. Yesterday, my owner had just got out of the shower and was bending down to dry her toes, and I just couldn't help myself. I hopped on her back and started humping away."&lt;br /&gt;The yellow and brown labs exchanged a sad glance and said, "So, nuts off for you too, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;The black lab said, "No, I'm here to get my nails clipped."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4682690549280894676?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4682690549280894676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4682690549280894676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4682690549280894676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4682690549280894676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/three-labrador-retrievers-one-brown-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6969498567587940697</id><published>2007-05-01T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T14:01:23.641-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Redneck Humor'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A guy walks into a bar in Arkansas and orders a white wine.   All the hillbillies sitting around the bar look up, expecting to see some pitiful Yankee from the north. &lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "You ain't from around here, are ya?"&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "No, I'm from Canada."&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "What do you do in Canada?"&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "I'm a taxidermist."&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "A taxidermist? What in tarnation is a taxidermist?  Do you drive a taxi?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, a taxidermist doesn't drive a taxi. I mount animals."&lt;br /&gt;The bartender grins and hollers, "It's okay boys. He's one of us!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6969498567587940697?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6969498567587940697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6969498567587940697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6969498567587940697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6969498567587940697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/05/guy-walks-into-bar-in-arkansas-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7241993159949035523</id><published>2007-04-30T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T06:35:56.275-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Older Folks'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Older Mother&lt;br /&gt;It was hailed as a medical breakthrough in fertility treatments when a 68-year-old woman was able to give birth.  When she was discharged from the hospital and went home, a crowd of  neighbors and relatives came to visit. &lt;br /&gt;"May we see the new baby?" one asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Not yet," said the mother. "I'll make coffee and we can visit for a while first."&lt;br /&gt;Thirty minutes had passed, and another visitor asked, "May we see the new baby now?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, not yet," said the mother.&lt;br /&gt;After another few minutes had elapsed, they asked again, "May we see the baby now?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, not yet," replied the mother.&lt;br /&gt;Growing very impatient, they asked, "Well, when can we see the  baby?"&lt;br /&gt;"When he cries!" she told them.&lt;br /&gt;"When he cries?" they demanded. "Why do we have to wait until he cries?"&lt;br /&gt;"Because," she said. "I forgot where I put him."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7241993159949035523?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7241993159949035523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7241993159949035523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7241993159949035523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7241993159949035523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/older-mother-it-was-hailed-as-medical.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4791993713327349407</id><published>2007-04-30T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T06:33:41.244-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man goes into a cocktail lounge and approaches Maxine,  who's sitting by herself...&lt;br /&gt;Man:  "May I buy you a cocktail?"&lt;br /&gt;Maxine:  "No thank you, alcohol is bad for my legs."&lt;br /&gt;Man:  "Sorry to hear that. Do they swell?"&lt;br /&gt;Maxine:  "No, they spread"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4791993713327349407?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4791993713327349407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4791993713327349407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4791993713327349407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4791993713327349407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/man-goes-into-cocktail-lounge-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-9023415469707232204</id><published>2007-04-30T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T06:31:51.166-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>The Love Dress</title><content type='html'>A woman stopped by unannounced at her son's house.  She knocked on the door then immediately walked in. She was shocked to see her daughter-in-law laying on the couch, totally naked. Soft music was playing, and the aroma of perfume filled the room. &lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm waiting for Justin to come home from work." The daughter-in-law answered.&lt;br /&gt;"But you're naked!" the mother-in-law exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;"This is my love dress," the daughter-in-law explained.&lt;br /&gt;"Love dress? But you're naked!"&lt;br /&gt;"Justin loves me to wear this dress," she explained. "Every time he sees me in this dress, he instantly becomes romantic and ravages me for hours."&lt;br /&gt;The mother-in-law left. When she got home she undressed, showered, put on her best perfume, dimmed the lights, put on a romantic CD, and laid on the couch. Finally, her husband came home. He walked in and saw her laying there so provocatively.&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;"This is my love dress," she whispered, sensually.&lt;br /&gt;"Needs ironing," he said..."What's for dinner?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-9023415469707232204?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/9023415469707232204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=9023415469707232204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/9023415469707232204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/9023415469707232204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/love-dress.html' title='The Love Dress'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7187143207487507216</id><published>2007-04-27T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T13:51:26.740-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Golf'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here is an actual sign posted at a golf club in Scottsdale,  Arizona:        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. BACK STRAIGHT, KNEES BENT, FEET SHOULDER WIDTH APART.       &lt;br /&gt;2. FORM A LOOSE GRIP.       &lt;br /&gt;3. KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN!       &lt;br /&gt;4. AVOID A QUICK BACK SWING.       &lt;br /&gt;5. STAY OUT OF THE WATER.      &lt;br /&gt;6. TRY NOT TO HIT ANYONE.      &lt;br /&gt;7. IF YOU ARE TAKING TOO LONG, LET OTHERS GO AHEAD OF YOU.      &lt;br /&gt;8. DON'T STAND DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF OTHERS.      &lt;br /&gt;9. QUIET PLEASE...WHILE OTHERS ARE PREPARING.      &lt;br /&gt;10. DON'T TAKE EXTRA STROKES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WELL DONE. NOW FLUSH THE URINAL, GO OUTSIDE, &amp;amp; TEE OFF&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7187143207487507216?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7187143207487507216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7187143207487507216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7187143207487507216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7187143207487507216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/here-is-actual-sign-posted-at-golf-club.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2750503021438880653</id><published>2007-04-26T08:40:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T08:43:15.180-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Adult Fairy Tales</title><content type='html'>CINDERELLA wants to go to the ball, but her wicked stepmother won't let her.  As Cinderella sits crying in the garden, her fairy godmother appears, and promised to provide Cinderella with everything she needs to go to the ball, but only on two conditions.   "First, you must wear a diaphragm."  Cinderella agrees. "What's the second condition?"  You must be home by 2:00 a.m. Any later, and your diaphragm will turn into a pumpkin."  Cinderella agrees to be home by 2:00 a.m. The appointed hour comes and goes, and Cinderella doesn't show up. Finally, at 5:00 a.m. Cinderella  shows up, looking love struck and very satisfied.  "Where have you been?" demands the Fairy Godmother   "Your diaphragm was supposed to turn into a pumpkin three hours ago!!!"  I met a prince, Fairy Godmother. He took care of everything."  The Fairy Godmother stated, "I know of no prince with that kind of power!  Tell me his name!"  Cinderella replied, I can't remember, exactly! Peter, Peter, something or other..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2750503021438880653?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2750503021438880653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2750503021438880653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2750503021438880653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2750503021438880653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/adult-fairy-tales.html' title='Adult Fairy Tales'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1749036778883808693</id><published>2007-04-26T08:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T08:40:44.904-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sleeping Beauty, Tom Thumb, and Quasimodo were all talking one day when Sleeping Beauty said, "I believe myself to be the most beautiful girl in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Thumb said, "And I must be the smallest person in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quasimodo said, "And I know I absolutely have to be the ugliest person in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they all decided to go to the Guinness Book of World Records to have their claims verified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping Beauty went in first and came out looking deliriously happy. "It's official!! I AM the most beautiful girl in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Thumb went next and emerged triumphant, "I am now officially the smallest person in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime later, Quasimodo comes out looking utterly confused and says, "Who the hell is Hillary Rodham Clinton"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1749036778883808693?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1749036778883808693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1749036778883808693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1749036778883808693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1749036778883808693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/sleeping-beauty-tom-thumb-and-quasimodo.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5907483814649132703</id><published>2007-04-24T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T06:19:53.389-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>The 1st Affair</title><content type='html'>A married man was having an affair with his secretary.  One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon.  Exhausted, they fell asleep and woke up at 8 PM.  The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt.  He put on his shoes and drove home.&lt;br /&gt;"Where have you been?" his wife demanded.&lt;br /&gt;"I can't lie to you," he replied, "I'm having an affair with my secretary.  We had sex all afternoon."&lt;br /&gt;She looked down at his shoes and said:  "You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2nd Affair&lt;br /&gt;A middle-aged couple had two beautiful daughters but always talked about having a son.  They decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted.   The wife got pregnant and delivered a healthy baby boy.  The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son.  He was horrified at the ugliest child he had ever seen.  He told his wife: "There's no way I can be the father of this baby.  Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered!  Have you been fooling around behind my back?" The wife smiled sweetly and replied:  "Not this time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 3rd Affair&lt;br /&gt;A mortician was working late one night.  He examined the body of Mr. Schwartz, about to be cremated, and made a startling discovery.  Schwartz had the largest private part he had ever seen!  "I'm sorry Mr. Schwartz," the mortician Commented, "I can't allow you to be cremated with such an impressive private part.  It must be saved for posterity."  So, he removed it, stuffed it into his briefcase, and took it home "I have something to show you won't believe," he said to his wife, opening his briefcase.  "My God!" the wife exclaimed, "Schwartz is dead!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 4th Affair&lt;br /&gt;A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door.  "Hurry," she said, "stand in the corner."  She rubbed baby oil all over him, then dusted him with talcum powder.  "Don't move until I tell you," she said, " pretend you're a statue."  "What's this?" the husband inquired as he entered the room.  "Oh it's a statue," she replied, "the Smiths bought one and I liked it so I got one for us, too."  No more was said, not even when they went to bed.  Around 2 AM the husband got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a beer.  "Here," he said to the statue, "have this.  I stood like that for two days at the Smiths and nobody offered me a damned thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5th Affair&lt;br /&gt;A man walked into a cafe, went to the bar and ordered a beer.  "Certainly, Sir , that'll be one cent."  "One Cent?" the man exclaimed.  He glanced at the menu and asked: "How much for a nice juicy steak and a bottle of wine?"  "A nickel," the barman replied.  "A nickel?" exclaimed the man.   "Where's the guy who owns this place?"  The bartender replied: "Upstairs, with my wife."  The man asked: "What's he doing upstairs with your wife?"  The bartender replied: "The same thing I'm doing to his business down here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 6th Affair&lt;br /&gt;Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside. He looked up and said weakly: "I have something I must confess."  "There's no need to," his wife replied.   "No," he insisted, "I want to die in peace.  I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!"  "I know," she replied, "now just rest and let the poison work."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5907483814649132703?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5907483814649132703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5907483814649132703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5907483814649132703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5907483814649132703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/1st-affair.html' title='The 1st Affair'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6863744254846443079</id><published>2007-04-23T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T12:33:15.337-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>MARRIED LIFE</title><content type='html'>Subject: MARRIED LIFE - MAKES MY EYES TEAR UP, SUCH A HAPPY ENDING !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple had only been married for two weeks and the husband, although very much in love, couldn't wait to go out on the town and party with his old buddies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he said to his new wife, "Honey, I'll be right back."&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you going, Coochy Coo?" asked the wife.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to the bar, Pretty Face," he answered. "I'm going to have a beer."&lt;br /&gt;The wife said, "You want a beer, my love?"&lt;br /&gt;She opened the door to the refrigerator and showed him 25 different kinds of beer, brands from 12 different countries: Germany, Holland, Japan, India, etc. The husband didn't know what to do, and the only thing that he could think of saying was,  "Yes, Lollipop.. . but at the bar... You know... they have frozen glasses... "&lt;br /&gt;He didn't get to finish the sentence, because the wife interrupted him by saying, "You want a frozen glass, Puppy Face?" She took a huge beer mug out of the freezer, so frozen that she was  getting chills just holding it.&lt;br /&gt;The husband, looking a bit pale, said, "Yes, Tootsie Roll, but at the bar they have those hors d'oeuvres that are really delicious... I won't be long.  I'll be right back. I promise. OK?"&lt;br /&gt;"You want hors d'oeuvres, Poochie Pooh?" She opened the oven and took out 5 dishes of different hors d'oeuvres: chicken wings, pigs in blankets, mushroom caps, and little quiches.&lt;br /&gt;"But my sweet honey... at the bar.... you know there's swearing, dirty wordsand all that..."&lt;br /&gt;"You want dirty words, Cutie Pie? LISTEN UP CHICKEN SHIT! SIT YOUR ASS DOWN, SHUT THE HELL UP, DRINK YOUR BEER IN YOUR FROZEN MUG AND EAT YOUR HORS D'OEUVRES BECAUSE YOUR MARRIED ASS ISN'T GOING TO A DAMNED BAR! THAT SHIT IS OVER, GOT IT, JACKASS?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and...they lived happily ever after. Isn't that a sweet story? --&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6863744254846443079?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6863744254846443079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6863744254846443079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6863744254846443079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6863744254846443079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/married-life.html' title='MARRIED LIFE'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2371471491513756334</id><published>2007-04-23T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T12:24:51.339-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Abby,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a crack dealer in Beaumont, Texas who has recently been diagnosed as a carrier of HIV virus.  My parents live in Fort Worth. One of my sisters lives in Pflugerville and is married to a transvestite. My father and mother have recently been arrested for growing and selling marijuana.  They are financially dependent on my other two sisters, who are prostitutes in Dallas.  I have two brothers: one is currently serving a non-parole life sentence at Huntsville for the murder of a teenage boy in 1994. My other brother is currently in jail awaiting charges of sexual misconduct with his three children.  I have recently become engaged to marry a former prostitute who lives in Longview. She is a part time "working girl".  All things considered, my problem is this.  I love my fiancé and look forward to bringing her into the family. I certainly want to be totally open and honest with her.  Should I tell her about my cousin who supports Hillary Clinton for President?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worried About My Reputation&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2371471491513756334?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2371471491513756334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2371471491513756334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2371471491513756334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2371471491513756334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/dear-abby-i-am-crack-dealer-in-beaumont.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2309075745250875295</id><published>2007-04-20T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T06:11:12.466-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><title type='text'>Traffic cop vs. VIOLATOR !!!</title><content type='html'>A motorcycle officer stops a man for running a red light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy is a real jerk and comes running back to the patrol officer and demands to know why he is being harassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the officer calmly tells him of the red light violation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Motorist instantly goes on a tirade, questioning the officer's ancestry, sexual orientation, etc., in rather explicit terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer, being a professional, takes it all in stride, figuring "Battleship mouth and Rowboat Ass".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tirade goes on without the cop saying anything. When he gets done with writing the citation he puts an *AH* in the lower right corner of the narrative portion of the citation. He then hands it to the "Violator" for his signature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy signs the cite angrily, tearing the paper, and when presented his copy points to the *AH* and demands to know what it stands for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer then removes his mirror sunglasses , gets in the middle of the guys face and says, "That's so when we go to court, I'll remember you're an Asshole!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three months later they're in court.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Violator" has such a bad record he is about to lose his license and has hired an attorney to represent him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the stand the officer testifies to seeing the man run the red light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under cross examination the defense attorney asks; Officer is this a reasonable facsimile of the citation you issued my client?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officer responds, "Yes sir, this is the defendants copy, his signature and mine, same number at the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attorney : "Officer, is there any particular marking or notation on this citation you don't normally make"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officer : "Yes sir, in the lower right corner of the narrative there is an *AH*, underlined".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attorney : "What does the *AH* stand for, officer"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officer : "Aggressive and Hostile Sir"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attorney: "Aggressive and hostile"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officer: "Yes Sir"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attorney : "Officer,,,, Are you sure it doesn't stand for Asshole"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officer : "Well Sir, You know your client better than I do"!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2309075745250875295?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2309075745250875295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2309075745250875295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2309075745250875295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2309075745250875295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/traffic-cop-vs-violator.html' title='Traffic cop vs. VIOLATOR !!!'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6931672529681371421</id><published>2007-04-19T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T07:24:31.196-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is hilarious.  One day I met a sweet gentleman and fell in love.  When it became apparent that we would marry, I made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.  Some months later, on my birthday, my car broke down on the way home from work.  Since I lived in the countryside I called my husband and told him that I would be late because I had to walk home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way, I passed by a small diner and the odor of baked beans was more than I could stand. With miles to walk, I figured that I would walk off any ill effects by the time I reached home, so I stopped at the diner and before I knew it, I had consumed three large orders of baked beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the way home, I made sure that I released ALL the gas. Upon my arrival, my husband seemed excited to see me and exclaimed delightedly: "Darling I have a surprise for dinner tonight!"  He then blindfolded me and led me to my chair at the dinner table. I took a seat and just as he was about to remove my blindfold, the telephone rang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He made me promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned and went to answer the call.  The baked beans I had consumed were still affecting me and the pressure was becoming most unbearable, so while my husband was out of the room I seized the opportunity, shifted my weight to one leg and let one go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of a pulpwood mill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my napkin from my lap and fanned the air around me vigorously.  Then, shifting to the other cheek, I ripped off three more.  The stink was worse than cooked cabbage!!!  Keeping my ears carefully tuned to the conversation in the other room, I went on like this for another few minutes. The pleasure was indescribable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When eventually the telephone farewells signaled the end of my freedom, I quickly fanned the air a few more times with my napkin, placed it on  my lap and folded my hands back on it feeling very relieved and pleased with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My face must have been the picture of innocence when my husband returned, apologizing for taking so long.  He asked me if I had peeked through the blindfold, and I assured him I had not.  At this point, he removed the blindfold, and twelve dinner guests seated around the table chorused:  "Happy Birthday!"  I FAINTED&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6931672529681371421?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6931672529681371421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6931672529681371421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6931672529681371421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6931672529681371421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/this-is-hilarious.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2723666473526380921</id><published>2007-04-17T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T12:42:43.000-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A teacher was doing a study testing the senses of first graders, using a bowl of Lifesavers.  The children began to say: &lt;br /&gt;"Red.............cherry," &lt;br /&gt;"Yellow.........lemon," &lt;br /&gt;"Green..........lime," &lt;br /&gt;"Orange .......orange,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the teacher gave them all honey Lifesavers.  After eating them none of the children could identify the taste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," she said, "I'll give you all a clue; It's what your mother may sometimes call your father."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One little girl looked up in horror, spit her Lifesaver out and yelled:  "Oh My God!!!! They're assholes!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2723666473526380921?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2723666473526380921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2723666473526380921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2723666473526380921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2723666473526380921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/teacher-was-doing-study-testing-senses.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5688143210208636026</id><published>2007-04-17T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T06:35:45.511-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>IRISH BALLERINA</title><content type='html'>A large woman, wearing a sleeveless sundress, walked into a bar in Dublin. She raised her right arm, revealing a huge, hairy armpit as she pointed to all the people sitting at the bar and asked, "What man here will buy a lady a drink?"  The bar went silent as the patrons tried to ignore her.  But down at the end of the bar, an owly-eyed drunk slammed his hand down on the counter and bellowed,  "Give the ballerina a drink!"  The bartender poured the drink and the woman chugged it down.  She turned to the patrons and again pointed around at all of them, revealing the same hairy armpit, and asked, "What man here will buy a lady a drink?"  Once again, the same little drunk slapped his money down on the bar and said, "Give the ballerina another drink!"  The bartender approached the little drunk and said,  "Tell me, Paddy, it's your business if you want to buy the lady a drink, but why do you keep calling her the ballerina?"  The drunk replied, "Any woman who can lift her leg thathigh has got to be a ballerina!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5688143210208636026?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5688143210208636026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5688143210208636026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5688143210208636026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5688143210208636026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/irish-ballerina.html' title='IRISH BALLERINA'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5421007374462412255</id><published>2007-04-16T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T14:47:37.014-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HER DIARY&lt;br /&gt;April 14th, 2007 Saturday PM - I thought he was acting weird tonight.   We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment. Conversation wasn't flowing so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet  so we could talk, he agreed but he kept quiet and absent. I asked him what was wrong - he said,"Nothing." I asked him if it was my fault  that he was upset.  He said it had nothing to do with me and not to worry. On the way home I told him that I loved him, he simply smiled and  kept driving. I can't explain his behavior; I don't know why he didn't say, "I love you, too."   When we got home I felt as if I had lost him, as if he wanted  nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there and watched TV; he  seemed distant and absent. Finally I decided to go to bed. About 10 minutes later he came to bed  and to my surprise he responded to my caress and we made love, but I still  felt that he was distracted and his thoughts were somewhere else.   I  decided that I could not take it anymore, so I decided to confront him with the situation but he had fallen asleep.   I started crying and cried until I too fell asleep. I don't know what to  do. I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster. .......................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HIS DIARY The Cardinals lost, but at least I got laid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5421007374462412255?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5421007374462412255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5421007374462412255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5421007374462412255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5421007374462412255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/her-diary-april-14th-2007-saturday-pm-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5867450964975036429</id><published>2007-04-16T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T06:59:57.321-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Golf'/><title type='text'>Lamaze Class</title><content type='html'>The Lamaze class was in full swing. The room was full of pregnant women and their partners. The instructor was teaching the women how to breathe properly and was telling the men how to give the necessary assurances to their partners at this stage of the pregnancy.  She said, "Ladies, remember that exercise is good for you. Walking is especially beneficial. It strengthens the pelvic muscles and will make delivery that much easier!"  She then looked at the men in the room. "And gentlemen, remember. You're in this together. It wouldn't hurt you to go walking with your partner."  The room suddenly got very quiet as everyone absorbed this information. Then a man at the back of the room slowly raised his hand."Yes?" answered the instructor. "I was just wondering, wouldn't it be even more beneficial to her if she carried a golf bag while we walk"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5867450964975036429?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5867450964975036429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5867450964975036429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5867450964975036429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5867450964975036429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/lamaze-class.html' title='Lamaze Class'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2792017961664325749</id><published>2007-04-16T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T06:57:49.445-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Late one night, a young woman came home from a date, rather sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why the sad look?" asked the woman's mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ricky proposed to me an hour ago," the daughter responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's great!" responded her mother. "Why do you lookso sad?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because he also told me he is an atheist," she responded. "Mom, he doesn't even believe there's a Hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother thought for a moment, then responded:  "Marry him anyway. Between the two of us, we'll show him just how wrong he is."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2792017961664325749?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2792017961664325749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2792017961664325749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2792017961664325749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2792017961664325749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/late-one-night-young-woman-came-home.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3928615453311290829</id><published>2007-04-16T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T06:56:48.480-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Genie</title><content type='html'>A woman was walking along the shores of the beach when she stumbled upon a an old looking lamp bottle. The woman picked up the bottle, rubbed some of the sand off it and out of the blue a genie appeared! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stunned woman asked the genie if this meant that she got three wishes.  "Three wishes is only a fable," responded the genie. "You only get one wish. So what do you wish for?"  \&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman did not hesitate.  "I want peace in the Middle East," she responded. "See this map? I want these countries to stop fighting with each other and I want all the Arabs to love the Jews and Americans and vice-versa. It will bring about world peace and harmony." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The genie looked at the map and exclaimed, "Lady, be reasonable. These countries have been at war for thousands of years. I'm out of shape after being in a bottle for five hundred years. I'm good but not that good! I don't think it can be done. Make another wish and please be reasonable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman thought for a minute."Well, I've never been able to find the right man," she said. "You know, one that's considerate and fun, likes to cook and help with the house cleaning, loves kids and is great in bed, gets along with my family, doesn't watch sports all the time, and is faithful. That is what I wish for ... a good man."&lt;br /&gt;The genie let out a deep sigh and said, "Let me see that friggin' map again..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3928615453311290829?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3928615453311290829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3928615453311290829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3928615453311290829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3928615453311290829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/genie.html' title='Genie'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4970231543378949752</id><published>2007-04-16T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T06:43:22.015-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Where would you be?</title><content type='html'>WHERE WOULD YOU BE:&lt;br /&gt;IF - YOU HAD ALL THE MONEY YOUR HEART DESIRES?&lt;br /&gt;IF - YOU HAD NO WORRIES?&lt;br /&gt;IF - YOU CAME HOME AND THE FINEST MEAL IS AWAITING YOU?&lt;br /&gt;IF - YOUR BATH WATER HAD BEEN RUN?&lt;br /&gt;IF - YOU HAD THE PERFECT KIDS?&lt;br /&gt;IF - YOUR PARTNER WAS AWAITING YOU,   WITH OPEN ARMS AND KISSES?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO, WHERE WOULD YOU BE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELLOOooo!!!!!!!!!YOU'D BE IN THE WRONG F&amp;amp;*#ING HOUSE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4970231543378949752?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4970231543378949752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4970231543378949752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4970231543378949752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4970231543378949752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/where-would-you-be.html' title='Where would you be?'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-979036510555431209</id><published>2007-04-13T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T06:12:10.262-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Poems for the Sexes</title><content type='html'>WOMAN'S POEM&lt;br /&gt;Before I lay me down to sleep,&lt;br /&gt;I pray for a man, who's not a creep.&lt;br /&gt;One who's handsome, smart and strong.&lt;br /&gt;One who loves to listen long,&lt;br /&gt;One who thinks before he speaks,&lt;br /&gt;One who'll call, notwait for weeks.&lt;br /&gt;I pray he's gainfully employed,&lt;br /&gt;When I spend his cash,won't be annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;Pulls out my chair and opens my door,&lt;br /&gt;Massages my back and begs to do more.&lt;br /&gt;Oh send me a man who'll make love to my mind,&lt;br /&gt;knows what to answer to "how big is my Behind?"&lt;br /&gt;I pray that this man will love me to no end,&lt;br /&gt;and alwaysbe my very best friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN'S POEM&lt;br /&gt;I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with huge boobs who owns a Bar on a golf course, and loves to send me fishing and hunting. This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-979036510555431209?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/979036510555431209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=979036510555431209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/979036510555431209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/979036510555431209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/poems-for-sexes.html' title='Poems for the Sexes'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6798337729751839352</id><published>2007-04-11T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T13:27:23.027-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Three women who were friends in high school have returned to their hometown, to attend their 45th reunion and have lunch together.  Their talk turns to their position in life, and it's clear that they are trying to one-up each other. &lt;br /&gt;The first woman says, "My husband is taking me to theFrench Riviera for two weeks," and then looks at the others with a superior demeanor.&lt;br /&gt;The second woman says, "Well, my husband just bought me a new Mercedes," and looks about with considerable pride.&lt;br /&gt;The third woman says, "Well, to be perfectly honest with you, we don't have much money and we don't have any material possessions, but 13 canaries can stand shoulder to shoulder on my husband's erect penis."&lt;br /&gt;After a long silence, the first woman looks shame-faced and says, "Girls, I've got a confession to make.  I was just trying to impress you.  We're not really going to the French Riviera, we're going to my parent's house for two weeks."&lt;br /&gt;The second woman says, "Your honesty has shamed me.  To be honest, my husband didn't buy me a Mercedes, he bought me a Taurus."&lt;br /&gt;"Well," the third woman says, "I also have a confession to make.  Canary number 13 has to stand on one leg."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6798337729751839352?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6798337729751839352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6798337729751839352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6798337729751839352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6798337729751839352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/three-women-who-were-friends-in-high.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-4709434988149340616</id><published>2007-04-10T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T18:01:28.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOVERNMENT JOB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy goes to the Post Office to apply for a job.  The interviewer asks him, 'Have you been in the service?'  'Yes,' he says. 'I was in the armed forces for three years'  The interviewer says, 'That will give you extra points toward employment' and then asks, 'Are you disabled in any way?'  The guy says, 'Yes, 100%. A mortar round exploded near me and blew my testicles off.  The interviewer tells the guy, 'O.K. I can hire you right now. The hours are from 8:00 A.M. to 4:00P.M. You can start tomorrow. Come in at 10:00A.M. ' The guy is puzzled and says, 'If the hours are from 8:00 A.M . to 4:00 P.M., then why do you want me to come in at 10:00 A.M. ?'  'This is a government job' the interviewer says.  'For the first two hours we stand around scratching our balls. No point in you coming in for that.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-4709434988149340616?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/4709434988149340616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=4709434988149340616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4709434988149340616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/4709434988149340616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/government-job-guy-goes-to-post-office.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2298842720344763826</id><published>2007-04-10T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T17:57:54.365-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The FBI had an opening for an assassin. After all the background checks, interviews and testing were done, there were 3 finalists. Two men and a woman. For the final test, the FBI 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 the 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." The agent said, "Then you're not the right man for this job. Take your wife and go home."     The second man was given the same instructions.  Hetook the gun and went into the room.   All was quiet for about 5 minutes.  The man came out with tears in his eyes, "I tried, but I can't kill my wife."  The agent said, "You don't have what it takes. Take your wife and go home."     Finally, it was the woman's turn. She was given the same instruction, to kill her husband.  She took the gun and went into the room.  Shots were heard, one after another. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls.  After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the woman, wiping the sweat from her brow."The gun is loaded with blanks" she said."I had to beat him to death with the chair."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2298842720344763826?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2298842720344763826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2298842720344763826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2298842720344763826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2298842720344763826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/fbi-had-opening-for-assassin.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1643379674024681408</id><published>2007-04-06T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T11:11:13.993-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><title type='text'>The Etiquette of Outdoor Cooking</title><content type='html'>After four long months of cold and winter, we are finally coming up to spring and BBQ season. Therefore, it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this outdoor cooking ritual, as it's the only type of cooking a real man will do, probably because there is an element of danger involved.  When a man volunteers to do the BBQ, the following chain of events are put into motion:&lt;br /&gt;Routine: 1. The woman buys the food.&lt;br /&gt;2. The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.&lt;br /&gt;3. The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - probably with a beer in hand.&lt;br /&gt;Now, here comes the important part:&lt;br /&gt;4. THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.&lt;br /&gt;More routine: 5. The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.&lt;br /&gt;6. The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he deals with the situation.&lt;br /&gt;Important again: 7. THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.&lt;br /&gt;More routine: 8. The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces and brings them to the table.&lt;br /&gt;9. After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;And most important of all: 10. Everyone PRAISES THE MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.&lt;br /&gt;11. The man asks the woman how she enjoyed "her night off" and, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1643379674024681408?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1643379674024681408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1643379674024681408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1643379674024681408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1643379674024681408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/etiquette-of-outdoor-cooking.html' title='The Etiquette of Outdoor Cooking'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6224428318298084103</id><published>2007-04-05T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T12:10:04.984-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Older Folks'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Black and White (Under age 40? You won't understand.)&lt;br /&gt;You could hardly see for all the snow,&lt;br /&gt;Spread the rabbit ears as far as they go.&lt;br /&gt;Pull a chair up to the TV set,&lt;br /&gt;Good Night, David. Good Night, Chet."&lt;br /&gt;Depending on the channel you tuned, You got Rob and Laura - or Ward and June.&lt;br /&gt;It felt so good. It felt so right.&lt;br /&gt;Life looked better in black and white.&lt;br /&gt;I Love Lucy, The Real McCoys,Dennis the Menace, the Cleaver boys,&lt;br /&gt;Rawhide, Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, Superman, Jimmy and Lois Lane.&lt;br /&gt;Father Knows Best, Patty Duke, Rin Tin Tin and Lassie too,&lt;br /&gt;Donna Reed on Thursday night! --&lt;br /&gt;Life looked better in black and white.&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back to black and white.&lt;br /&gt;Everything always turned out right.&lt;br /&gt;Simple people, simple lives.&lt;br /&gt;Good guys always won the fights.&lt;br /&gt;Now nothing is the way it seems,&lt;br /&gt;In living color on the TV screen.&lt;br /&gt;Too many murders, too many fights,&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back to black and white.&lt;br /&gt;In God they trusted, alone in bed, they slept,&lt;br /&gt;A promise made was a promise kept.&lt;br /&gt;They never cussed or broke their vows.&lt;br /&gt;They'd never make the network now.&lt;br /&gt;But if I could, I'd rather be In a TV town in '53.&lt;br /&gt;It felt so good. It felt so right.Life looked better in black and white.&lt;br /&gt;I'd trade all the channels on the satellite,&lt;br /&gt;If I could just turn back the clock tonight&lt;br /&gt;To when everybody knew wrong from right.&lt;br /&gt;Life was better in black and white!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Goody For The Oldtimers&lt;br /&gt;My Mom used to cut chicken, chop eggs and spread mayo on the same cutting board with the same knife and no bleach, but we didn't seem to get food poisoning. My Mom used to defrost hamburger on the counter AND sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag, not in ice pack coolers, but I can't remember getting e-coli.&lt;br /&gt;Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a pristine pool (talk about boring), no beach closures then.  The term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a jail cell, and a pager was the school PA system. &lt;br /&gt;We all took gym, not PE... and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built in light reflectors. I can't recall any injuries but they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now.. Flunking gym was not an option...even for stupid kids!  I guess PE must be much harder than gym. &lt;br /&gt;Speaking of school , we all sang the national anthem, and staying in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention. &lt;br /&gt;We must have had horribly damaged psyches. What an archaic health system we had then. Remember school nurses? Ours wore a hat and everything.  I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself. &lt;br /&gt;I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations. &lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah... and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting? I could have been killed!&lt;br /&gt; We played 'king of the hill' on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites, and when we got hurt, Mom pulled out the 48-cent bottle of Mercurochrome (kids liked it better because it didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our butt spanked.  Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day dose of a $149 bottle of antibiotics, and then Mom calls the attorney to sue the contractor such a threat. &lt;br /&gt;We didn't act up at the neighbor's house either because if we did, we got our butt spanked there and then we got butt spanked again when we got home. &lt;br /&gt;I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his tricks on the front stoop, just before he fell off. Little did his Mom know that she could have owned our house. Instead, she picked him up and swatted him for being such a goof. It was a neighborhood run amuck. To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family. How could we possibly have known that?  We needed to get into group therapy and anger management classes? We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac! How did we ever survive? &lt;br /&gt;LOVE TO ALL OF US WHO SHARED THIS ERA, AND TO ALL WHO DIDN'T- SORRY FOR WHAT YOU MISSED. I WOULDN'T TRADE IT FOR ANYTHING&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6224428318298084103?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6224428318298084103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6224428318298084103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6224428318298084103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6224428318298084103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/black-and-white-under-age-40-you-wont.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-8722603427408342481</id><published>2007-04-03T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T14:48:51.328-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><title type='text'>Women Drivers!</title><content type='html'>This morning on the Interstate 95, I looked over to my left and there was a Woman in a brand new Cadillac doing 65 mph with her face up next to her rear view mirror putting on her eyeliner.  I looked away for a couple seconds and when I looked back she was halfway over in my lane, still working on that makeup.  As a man, I don't scare easily.  But she scared me so much; I dropped my electric shaver, which knocked the donut out of my other hand.  In all the confusion of trying to straighten out the car using my knees against the steering wheel, it knocked my cell phone away from my ear which fell into the coffee between my legs, splashed, and burned Big Jim and the Twins, ruined my phone, soaked my trousers, and disconnected an important call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damm women drivers!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-8722603427408342481?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/8722603427408342481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=8722603427408342481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8722603427408342481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/8722603427408342481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/women-drivers.html' title='Women Drivers!'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3710673884489028110</id><published>2007-04-03T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T14:44:37.723-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RELIGION'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A minister was completing a Temperance sermon With great emphasis he said, "If I had all the beer in the world, I'd take it and pour it into the river."With even greater emphasis he said, "And if I had all the wine in the world, I'd take it and pour it into the river."And then finally, shaking his fist in the air, he said,"And if I had all the whiskey in the world, I'd take it and pour it into the river." Sermon complete, he sat down. The song leader stood very cautiously and announced with a smile, nearly laughing, "For our closing song, Let us sing Hymn #365, "Shall We Gather at the River."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3710673884489028110?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3710673884489028110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3710673884489028110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3710673884489028110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3710673884489028110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/minister-was-completing-temperance.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5705959465171921292</id><published>2007-04-02T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T06:23:59.964-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales.  The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was avery large mammal its throat was very small.  The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.  Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.  The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".  The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?"  The little girl replied, "Then you ask him".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work.  As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was.  The girl replied, "I'm drawing God."  The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like."  Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girlreplied, "They will in a minute."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds.  After explaining the commandment to "honor" thy Father and thy Mother, she asked, "Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?"  Without missing a beat one little boy (the oldest of afamily) answered, "Thou shall not kill."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a little girl was sitting and watching her mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink. She suddenly noticed that her mother had several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head.  She looked at her mother and inquisitively asked, "Why are some of your hairs white, Mom?"  Her mother replied, "Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white."  The little girl thought about this revelation for awhile and then said, "Momma, how come ALL of grandma'shairs are white?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture."Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, He's a doctor.'  A small voice at the back of the room rang out, "And there's the teacher, She's dead. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter clearer, she said,"Now, class, if I stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and I would turn red in theface.."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," the class said."Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood doesn't run into my feet?"  A little fellow shouted,"Cause your feet ain't empty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children were lined up in the cafeteria of aCatholic elementary school for lunch. At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray:  "Take only ONE. God is watching."  Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies.  A child had written a note,  "Take all you want. God is watching the apples."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5705959465171921292?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5705959465171921292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5705959465171921292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5705959465171921292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5705959465171921292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/little-girl-was-talking-to-her-teacher.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-220701684180935947</id><published>2007-04-02T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T06:19:14.460-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowboys'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A cowboy walked into a drug store in west Texas and asked to talk to a male pharmacist.  The woman he was talking to said that she was the only pharmacist and as she and her sister owned the store, there were no males employed there. She then asked if she could help him.  The cowpoke said that it was something that he would be much more comfortable discussing with a  male pharmacist.  The female pharmacist assured him that she was completely professional and whatever it was that he needed to discuss, he could be confident that she would treat him with the highest level of professionalism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cowboy then agreed and began by saying, "This is tough forme to discuss, but I have a permanent erection.  It causes me a lot of problems and severe embarrassment, and I was wondering what you could give me for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pharmacist said, "Just a minute, I'll talk to mysister."  When she returned, she said, "We discussed it at length and the absolute best we can do is as follows:  1/3 ownership  in the store, a company pickup truck, and $3,000 a month living expenses."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-220701684180935947?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/220701684180935947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=220701684180935947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/220701684180935947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/220701684180935947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/04/cowboy-walked-into-drug-store-in-west.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-687034155594902909</id><published>2007-03-29T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:36:59.092-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Subject: Turner Brown</title><content type='html'>Skinny little white guy goes into an elevator, looks up and sees this HUGE guy standing next to him.  The big guy sees the little guy staring at him, looks down and says: "7 feet tall, 350 pounds, 20 inch private, 3 lb testicles, Turner Brown."&lt;br /&gt;The white man faints and falls to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;The big guy kneels down and brings him to, shaking him. The big guy says:  "What's wrong with you?"&lt;br /&gt;In a weak voice the little guy says, "What EXACTLY did you say to me?"&lt;br /&gt;The big dude says: "I saw your curious look and figured I'd just give you the answers to the questions everyone always asks me..... I'm 7 feet tall, I weigh 350 pounds, I have a 20 inch private, my testicles weighs 3 lbs each, and my name is Turner Brown."&lt;br /&gt;The small guy says: "Turner Brown?!...Sweet Jesus, I thought you said, 'Turn around' !"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-687034155594902909?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/687034155594902909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=687034155594902909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/687034155594902909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/687034155594902909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/subject-turner-brown.html' title='Subject: Turner Brown'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2287521133903070955</id><published>2007-03-29T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:35:27.878-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blondes'/><title type='text'>Subject: New Windows</title><content type='html'>Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive double pane energy-efficient kind. But this week I got a call from the contractor who installed them. He was complaining that the work had  been completed a whole year ago and I hadn't paid for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I am automatically  stupid. So, I told him just what his fast talking sales guy had told  ME last year.... namely, that in ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helllooooo? It's been a year! (I told him.) There was only silence at  the other end of the line, so I finally just hung up. He didn't call back&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2287521133903070955?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2287521133903070955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2287521133903070955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2287521133903070955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2287521133903070955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/subject-new-windows.html' title='Subject: New Windows'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7103150403943154724</id><published>2007-03-29T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:33:15.575-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Golf'/><title type='text'>One Day At The Golf Course</title><content type='html'>Two ladies were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole. The ball hit one of the men. He immediately&lt;br /&gt;clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in agony. The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please allow me to help. I'm a physio-therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you'd allow me," she told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no, I'll be all right. I'll be fine in a few minutes," the man replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still clasping his hands together at his groin. At her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently took his hands away and&lt;br /&gt;laid them to his side, loosened his pants and put her hands inside.  She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments  and asked, "How does that feel?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "It feels really, really great, but my thumb still hurts."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7103150403943154724?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7103150403943154724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7103150403943154724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7103150403943154724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7103150403943154724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/one-day-at-golf-course.html' title='One Day At The Golf Course'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6279078555040410627</id><published>2007-03-29T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:30:26.057-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunken'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two women friends had gone for a girl's night out.  Both were very faithful and loving wives, however, they had gotten over-enthusiastic on the Bacardi Breezers. Incredibly drunk and walking home they needed to pee, so they stopped in the cemetery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them had nothing to wipe with so she thought she would take off her panties and use them. Her friend however was wearing a rather expensive pair of panties and did not want to ruin them. She was  lucky enough to squat down next to a grave that had a wreath with a ribbon on it, so she proceeded to wipe with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the girls did their business they proceeded to go home. The next day one of the women's husbands was concerned that his normally sweet and innocent wife was still in bed hung over, so he phoned the other husband and said, "These girl nights have got to stop! I'm  starting to suspect the worst.. my wife came home with no panties!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's nothing" said the other husband, "Mine came back with a card stuck to her ass that said.....'From all of us at the Fire Station. We'll never forget you.'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6279078555040410627?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6279078555040410627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6279078555040410627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6279078555040410627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6279078555040410627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/two-women-friends-had-gone-for-girls.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3663970018209327674</id><published>2007-03-29T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:28:31.739-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>JIM'S ANNIVERSARY PRESENT&lt;br /&gt;Jim was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary. His wife was really angry. She told him, "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in 6 seconds AND IT BETTER BE THERE!!"The next morning Jim got up early and left for work. When his wife woke up, she looked out the window and sure enough there was a box gift-wrapped in the middle of the driveway.Confused, the wife put on her robe and ran out to the driveway, and brought the box back in the house. She opened it and found a brand new bathroom scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim has been missing since Friday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3663970018209327674?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3663970018209327674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3663970018209327674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3663970018209327674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3663970018209327674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/jims-anniversary-present-jim-was-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5156596717809819812</id><published>2007-03-29T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:27:32.475-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Sniffer The Dog</title><content type='html'>A man had just settled into his seat next to the window on the plane when another man sat down in the aisle seat and put his black Labrador Retriever in the middle seat next to the man.&lt;br /&gt;The first man looks very quizzically at the dog and asks why the dog is allowed on the plane. The second man explained  that he is a DEA agent and that the dog is a "sniffing dog." His name is&lt;br /&gt;Sniffer and he's the best there is. I'll show you once we get airborne, when I put him to work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plane takes off, and once it has leveled out, the agent says: "Watch this." He tells Sniffer to&lt;br /&gt;"search." Sniffer jumps down, walks along the aisle, and finally sits very purposefully next to a woman for a several  seconds.  Sniffer then returns to its seat and puts one paw on the agent's&lt;br /&gt;arm. The agent says, "Good boy", and he turns to the man and says: "That woman is in possession of marijuana, so I'm making  a note of her seat number and the authorities will&lt;br /&gt;apprehend her when we land."&lt;br /&gt;"Say, that's pretty neat" replies the first man.&lt;br /&gt;Once again, the agent sends Sniffer to search the aisles. The Lab sniffs about, sits down beside a man for a few seconds, returns to its seat, and this time, he places TWO paws on the  agent's arm.&lt;br /&gt;The agent says, "That man is carrying cocaine, so again, I'm making a note of his seat number for the police."&lt;br /&gt;"I like it!" says his seat mate.&lt;br /&gt;The agent then told Sniffer to "search" again.  Sniffer walked up and down the aisles for a little&lt;br /&gt;while, sat down for a moment, and then came racing back to the agent, jumped into the middle seat and proceeded to poop all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;The first man is really grossed out by this behavior and can't figure out how or why a well-trained dog would act like that, so he asks the agent "What's going on?"&lt;br /&gt;The agent nervously replied, "He just found a bomb!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5156596717809819812?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5156596717809819812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5156596717809819812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5156596717809819812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5156596717809819812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/sniffer-dog.html' title='Sniffer The Dog'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1227395234492535848</id><published>2007-03-29T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:25:02.984-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Older Folks'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties. She was admired for not only her talents with the instrument but for her sweetness and kindness to all.  One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room.  She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea.  As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom!  When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and He could no longer resist. "Miss Beatrice", he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?"   pointing to the bowl. "Oh, yes," she replied, "Isn't it wonderful? I was  walking through the Park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground.  The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1227395234492535848?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1227395234492535848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1227395234492535848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1227395234492535848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1227395234492535848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/miss-beatrice-church-organist-was-in_29.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5072014647773276744</id><published>2007-03-29T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:23:57.572-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RELIGION'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A soldier ran up to a nun. Out of breath he asked, "Please, may I hide under your skirt. I'll explain later."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nun agreed.   A moment later two Military Police ran up and asked, "Sister, have you seen a soldier?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nun replied, "He went that way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the MP's ran off, the soldier crawled out from under her skirt and said, "I can't thank you enough Sister. You see, I don't want to go to Iraq."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nun said, "I understand completely."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soldier added, "I hope I'm not rude, but you have a great pair of legs!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nun replied, "If you had looked a little higher, you would have seen a great pair of balls....I don't want to go to Iraq either."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5072014647773276744?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5072014647773276744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5072014647773276744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5072014647773276744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5072014647773276744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/soldier-ran-up-to-nun.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5664103312512807076</id><published>2007-03-29T07:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:18:25.513-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blondes'/><title type='text'>Who Wants to be a Millionaire?</title><content type='html'>A contestant on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" had reached the final plateau.  If she answered the next question correctly, she would win $1,000,000. If she answered incorrectly, she would pocket only the $32,000 milestone money.&lt;br /&gt;And as she suspected it would be, the million-dollar question was no pushover. It was, "Which of the following species of birds does not build its own nest, but instead lays its eggs in the nests of other birds?&lt;br /&gt;Is it:&lt;br /&gt;A) the condor&lt;br /&gt;B) the buzzard&lt;br /&gt;C) the cuckoo&lt;br /&gt;D) the vulture&lt;br /&gt;The woman was on the spot.  She did not know the answer.  And she was doubly on the spot because she had used up her 50/50 Lifeline and her Audience Poll Lifeline. All that remained was her Phone-a-Friend Lifeline. The woman hoped she would not have to use it because ...Her friend was, well ...blonde.  She had no alternative. She called her friend and gave her the question and the four choices.&lt;br /&gt;The blonde responded unhesitatingly:"That's easy. The answer is C: the cuckoo."&lt;br /&gt;The contestant had to make a decision and make it fast.  She considered employing a reverse strategy and giving Regis any answer except the one that her friend had given her.  And considering that her friend was a blonde, that would seem to be the logical thing to do. But her friend had responded with such confidence, such certitude, that the contestant could not help but be persuaded.&lt;br /&gt;"I need an answer," said Regis.&lt;br /&gt;Crossing her fingers, the contestant said, "C: Thecuckoo."&lt;br /&gt;"Is that your final answer?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that is my final answer."&lt;br /&gt;Two minutes later, Regis said, "That answer is Absolutely correct!! You are now a millionaire!"&lt;br /&gt;Three days later, the contestant hosted a party for her family and friends, including the blonde who had helped her win the million dollars."Jennie, I just do not know how to thank you," said the contestant.  "How did you happen to know the right answer?"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, come on," said the blonde. "Everybody knows that cuckoos don't build nests. They live in clocks."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5664103312512807076?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5664103312512807076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5664103312512807076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5664103312512807076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5664103312512807076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/who-wants-to-be-millionaire.html' title='Who Wants to be a Millionaire?'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7328619044411599314</id><published>2007-03-29T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:09:01.589-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Indians'/><title type='text'>Indian</title><content type='html'>A little Indian boy asked his father, the chief of thetribe, "Papa, why is it that we always have long names,while the white men have shorter names - Bill, Tex orSam, for example?"His father replied, "Look, son, our names represent asymbol, a sign, or a poem for our culture not like thewhite men, who live all together and repeat their namesfrom generation to generation. Also, it is part of ourmakeup that in spite of everything, we survive."For example, your sister's name is Small Romantic MoonOver The Lake, because on the night she was born, therewas a beautiful moon reflected in the lake."Then there's your brother, Big White Horse of thePrairies, because he was born on a day that the bigwhite horse who gallops over the prairies of the worldappeared near our camp and is a symbol of our capacityto live and the life force of our people."It's very simple and easy to understand. Do you haveany other questions, Little Broken Condom Made inChina?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7328619044411599314?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7328619044411599314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7328619044411599314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7328619044411599314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7328619044411599314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/indian.html' title='Indian'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-74904575452217889</id><published>2007-03-28T08:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T08:04:34.571-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Liver and Cheese</title><content type='html'>Three handsome male dogs are walking down the street when they see a beautiful, enticing female Beagle, Belle. The three male dogs fall all over themselves in an effort to be the one to reach her first, but end up arriving in front of her at the same time.The males are speechless before her beauty, slobbering on themselves and hoping for just a glance from her in return. Aware of her charms and her obvious effect on the three suitors, she decides to be kind and tells them, "The first one who can use the words 'liver' and 'cheese' together in an imaginative, intelligent sentence can go out with me." The sturdy, muscular black Lab speaks up quickly and says, "I love liver and cheese." "Oh, how childish," said Belle. "That shows no imagination or intelligence whatsoever." She turns to the tall, shiny Golden Retriever and says "How well can you do?" "Um. I HATE liver and cheese," blurts the Golden Retriever. "My, my," said Belle. "I guess it's hopeless. That's just as dumb as the Lab's sentence." She then turns to the last of the three dogs and says, "How about you, little guy?"The last of the three, tiny in stature but big in fame and finesse, is the Taco Bell Chihuahua. He gives her a smile, a sly wink, turns to the Golden Retriever and the Lab and says .....&lt;br /&gt;"Liver alone - cheese mine."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-74904575452217889?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/74904575452217889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=74904575452217889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/74904575452217889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/74904575452217889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/liver-and-cheese.html' title='Liver and Cheese'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2356265977681113413</id><published>2007-03-28T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T08:01:11.194-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><title type='text'>Man of the House</title><content type='html'>The husband had just finished reading a new book entitled,  "You Can Be THE Man of Your House."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stormed to his wife in the kitchen and announced,  "From now on, you need to know that I am the man of this house and  my word is Law.  You will prepare me a gourmet meal tonight,&lt;br /&gt;and when I'm finished eating my meal, you will serve me a sumptuous dessert. After dinner,  you are going to go upstairs with me and we will have the kind of sex that I want.&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, you are going to draw me a bath so I can relax. You will wash my back and towel me dry and bring me my robe. Then, you will massage my feet and hands. Then tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;guess who's  going to dress me and comb my hair?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife replied, "The f***ing funeral director would be  my first guess."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2356265977681113413?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2356265977681113413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2356265977681113413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2356265977681113413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2356265977681113413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/man-of-house.html' title='Man of the House'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3520797834046211590</id><published>2007-03-28T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:58:27.941-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'>4 Parachutes....</title><content type='html'>An airplane was about to crash.   There were 5 passengers on board, but only 4 parachutes -&lt;br /&gt;The 1st passenger said, "I am Kobe Bryant, the best NBA basketball player.   The Lakers need me, and I can't afford to die." &lt;br /&gt;So he took the 1st pack and left the plane.&lt;br /&gt;The 2nd passenger, Hillary Clinton said, "I am the wife of a former  U.S. President, a NY State Senator and a potential  future president.  And I am the smartest woman in American history........so America 's people don't want me to die."&lt;br /&gt;She took the 2nd pack and jumped out of the plane.&lt;br /&gt;The 3rd passenger, Ted Kennedy said, "I am a US Senator.....the democratic party needs me and my liver still has some good years left."&lt;br /&gt;So he grabbed the pack next to him and jumped.   The 4th passenger, Billy Graham, said to the 5th  passenger, a 10 year old schoolgirl, "I am old and frail and don't have many years left,................and as a Christian I will sacrifice my life and let you have the last parachute."&lt;br /&gt;The little girl said, "That's okay. There's a parachute left for you.......America 's smartest woman took my school bag."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3520797834046211590?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3520797834046211590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3520797834046211590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3520797834046211590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3520797834046211590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/4-parachutes.html' title='4 Parachutes....'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6861632034677096629</id><published>2007-03-28T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:54:39.734-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowboys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Redneck Humor'/><title type='text'>Broke back deer camp</title><content type='html'>The guys were all at deer camp. They had to bunk two to a room. No one wanted to room with Daryl because he snored so badly. They decided it wasn't fair to make one of them stay with him the whole time, so they voted to take turns.&lt;br /&gt;The first guy slept with Daryl and comes to breakfast the next morning with his hair a mess and his eyes all bloodshot. &lt;br /&gt;They said, "Man, what happened to you?"&lt;br /&gt;He said,  "Daryl snored so loudly, I just sat up and watched him all night."&lt;br /&gt;The next night it was a different guy's turn. In the morning, same thing--hair all standing up, eyes all blood-shot.&lt;br /&gt;They said, "Man, what happened to you? You look awful!"&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Man, that Daryl shakes the roof. I watched him all night."&lt;br /&gt;The third night was Frank's turn. Frank was a big burly ex-football player; a man's man. The next morning he came to breakfast bright eyed and bushy tailed.&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning," he said.&lt;br /&gt;They couldn't believe it! They said, "Man, what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Well, we got ready for bed. I went and tucked Daryl into bed and kissed him good night. He sat up and watched me all night long."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6861632034677096629?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6861632034677096629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6861632034677096629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6861632034677096629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6861632034677096629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/broke-back-deer-camp.html' title='Broke back deer camp'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5601375816588332630</id><published>2007-03-28T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:50:32.063-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Dear Dad</title><content type='html'>A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to "Dad." With the worst premonition, he opened the envelope with trembling&lt;br /&gt;hands and read the letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Dad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with mom and you.  I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos,  tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am.   But it's not only the passion... Dad she's pregnant.  Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children. Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone.  We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy. In the meantime, we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better.  She deserves it. Don't worry Dad I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself.  Someday  I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Your Son John&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house. I  just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than the report card that is in my center desk drawer. I love you. Call me when it's safe to come home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5601375816588332630?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5601375816588332630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5601375816588332630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5601375816588332630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5601375816588332630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/dear-dad.html' title='Dear Dad'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3688610704283004947</id><published>2007-03-28T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:45:07.271-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Interesting Human Body Facts</title><content type='html'>-The largest cell in the human body is the female egg and the smallest is the male sperm.&lt;br /&gt;-A full bladder is roughly the size of a soft ball.&lt;br /&gt;- Approximately 75% of human feces is made of water.&lt;br /&gt;- It takes the food seven seconds to get from your mouth to your stomach.&lt;br /&gt;-One human hair can support 3kg.&lt;br /&gt;- Human thighbones are stronger than concrete.&lt;br /&gt;-The attachment of human muscles to skin is what causes dimples.&lt;br /&gt;-Your thumb is the same length of your nose.&lt;br /&gt;- A woman's heart beats faster than a man's.&lt;br /&gt;- If the average male never shaved, his beard would be 13 feet long when he died.&lt;br /&gt;- Men without hair on their chests are more likely to get cirrhosis of the liver than men with hair.&lt;br /&gt;-There are about one trillion bacteria on each of your feet.&lt;br /&gt;- Side by side, 2000 cells from the human body could cover about one square inch.&lt;br /&gt;- Women blink twice as much as men.&lt;br /&gt;-The average person's skin weighs twice as much as their brain.&lt;br /&gt;- When you are looking at someone you love, your pupils dilate, they do the same when you are looking at someone you hate.&lt;br /&gt;- It takes twice as long to lose new muscle if you stop working out than it did to gain it.&lt;br /&gt;-You're ears secrete more earwax when you are afraid than when you aren't.&lt;br /&gt;-Your body uses 300 muscles to balance itself when you are standing still.&lt;br /&gt;- If saliva cannot dissolve something, you cannot taste it.&lt;br /&gt;-The average woman is 5 inches shorter than the average man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3688610704283004947?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3688610704283004947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3688610704283004947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3688610704283004947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3688610704283004947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/interesting-human-body-facts.html' title='Interesting Human Body Facts'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7572339412000341016</id><published>2007-03-28T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:42:23.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Water vs. Wine</title><content type='html'>It has been scientifically proven that if we drink 1 liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed more than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli (E. coli) bacteria found in feces. Body waste. &lt;br /&gt;In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of Poop.&lt;br /&gt;However, we do not run that risk when drinking wine (or rum, whiskey, beer or other liquor) because alcohol has to go through a purification process of boiling or filtering and/or fermenting.&lt;br /&gt;WATER = Poop&lt;br /&gt;WINE = HEALTH&lt;br /&gt;Ergo: It is better to drink wine and talk stupid than to drink water and be full of shit.&lt;br /&gt;There is no need to thank me for this valuable information.&lt;br /&gt;I am doing it as a public service.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7572339412000341016?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7572339412000341016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7572339412000341016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7572339412000341016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7572339412000341016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/water-vs-wine.html' title='Water vs. Wine'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7574880099014871311</id><published>2007-03-28T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:39:37.815-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Q: Why are many coin banks shaped like pigs?&lt;br /&gt;A: Long ago, dishes and cookware in were made of a dense orange clay called "pygg". When people saved coins in jars made of this clay, the jars became known as "pygg banks." When an English potter misunderstood the word, he made a bank that resembled a pig. And it caught on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Did you ever wonder why dimes, quarters and half dollars have notches, while pennies and nickels do not?&lt;br /&gt;A: The Mint began putting notches on the edges of coins containing gold and silver to discourage holders from shaving off small quantities of the precious metals. Dimes, quarters and half dollars are notched because they used to contain silver. Pennies and nickels aren't notched because the metals they contain are not valuable enough to shave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why do men's clothes have buttons on the right while women's clothes have buttons on the left?&lt;br /&gt;A: When buttons were invented, they were very expensive and worn primarily by the rich. Because wealthy women were dressed by maids, dressmakers put the buttons on the maid's right. Since most people are right-handed, it is easier to push buttons on the right through holes on the left. And that's where women's buttons have remained since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why do X's at the end of a letter signify kisses?&lt;br /&gt;A: In the Middle Ages, when many people were unable to read or write, documents were often signed using an X.  Kissing the X represented an oath to fulfil obligations specified in the document. The X and the kiss eventually became synonymous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why is shifting responsibility to someone else called "passing the buck"?&lt;br /&gt;A: In card games, it was once customary to pass an item, called a buck, from player to player to indicate whose turn it was to deal. If a player did not wish to assume the responsibility, he would "pass the buck" to the next player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why do people clink their glasses before drinking a toast?&lt;br /&gt;A: It used to be common for someone to try to kill an enemy by offering him a poisoned drink. To prove to a guest that a drink was safe, it became customary for a guest to pour a small amount of his drink into the glass of the host. Both men would drink it simultaneously. When a guest trusted his host, he would then just touch or clink the host's glass with his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why are people in the public eye said to be "in the limelight"?&lt;br /&gt;A: Invented in 1825, limelight was used in lighthouses and stage lighting by burning a cylinder of lime which produced a brilliant light. In the theatre, performers on stage "in the limelight" were seen by the audience to be the centre of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why do ships and aircraft in trouble use "mayday" as their call for help?&lt;br /&gt;A: This comes from the French word m'aidez -meaning "help me" -- and is pronounced  "mayday."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why is someone who is feeling great "on cloud nine"?&lt;br /&gt;A: Types of clouds are numbered according to the altitudes they attain, with nine being the highest cloud. If someone is said to be on cloud nine, that person is floating well above worldly cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why are zero scores in tennis called "love"?&lt;br /&gt;A: In France,where tennis first became popular, a big, round zero on scoreboard looked like an egg and was called "l'oeuf," which is French for "egg." When tennis was introduced in the , Americans pronounced it "love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: In golf, where did the term "Caddie" come from?&lt;br /&gt;A: When Mary, later Queen of Scots, went to France as a young girl (for education &amp; survival), Louis, King of France, learned that she loved the Scot game "golf." So he had the first golf course outside of Scotland built for her enjoyment. To make sure she was properly chaperoned (and guarded) while she played, Louis hired cadets from a military school to accompany her. Mary&lt;br /&gt;liked this lot and when she returned to Scotland (not a very good idea in the long run), she took the practice with her.  In French, the word cadet is pronounced 'ca- day' and the Scots changed it into "caddie."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7574880099014871311?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7574880099014871311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7574880099014871311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7574880099014871311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7574880099014871311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/q-why-are-many-coin-banks-shaped-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-2382659331519460042</id><published>2007-03-28T07:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:34:37.643-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><title type='text'>The Buttocks</title><content type='html'>A married couple was in a terrible accident where the man's  face was severely burned. The doctor told the husband that they couldn't graft any skin from his body because he was too skinny. So the wife offered to donate some of her own skin.  However, the only skin on her body that the doctor fel was suitable would have to come from her buttocks. The husband and wife agreed that they would tell no one about where the skin came from, and they requested that the doctor also honor their secret.  After all, this was a very delicate matter.   After the surgery was completed, everyone was astounded at the man's new face.  He looked more handsome than he ever had before! All his friends and relatives just went on and on about his youthful beauty!&lt;br /&gt;One day, he was alone with his wife, and he was overcome with emotion at her sacrifice.  He said, "Dear, I just want to thank you for everything you did for me. How can I possibly repay you?"&lt;br /&gt;"My darling," she replied, "I get all the thanks I need every time I see your mother kiss you on the cheek."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-2382659331519460042?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/2382659331519460042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=2382659331519460042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2382659331519460042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/2382659331519460042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/buttocks.html' title='The Buttocks'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7409918720114068860</id><published>2007-03-28T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:29:48.133-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowboys'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Top Ten Country &amp; Western Songs for 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I Hate Every Bone In Her Body But Mine&lt;br /&gt;9. I Ain't Never Gone To Bed With an Ugly Woman But I Woke Up With a Few.&lt;br /&gt;8. If The Phone Don't Ring, You'll Know It's Me&lt;br /&gt;7. I'll Always Miss You, But My Aim's Improvin'&lt;br /&gt;6. Wouldn't Take Her To A Dogfight 'Cause I'm Scared She'd Win&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm So Miserable Without You It's Like You're Still Here&lt;br /&gt;4. My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend And I Miss Him&lt;br /&gt;3. She Took My Ring and Gave Me the Finger&lt;br /&gt;2. She's Lookin' Better with Every Beer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Number One Country &amp;amp; Western song is...&lt;br /&gt;1. It's Hard To Kiss The Lips At Night That Chewed YourAss Out All Day Long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7409918720114068860?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7409918720114068860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7409918720114068860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7409918720114068860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7409918720114068860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/top-ten-country-western-songs-for-2007.html' title=''/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-1325305370771354651</id><published>2007-03-28T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T07:28:01.910-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>One-Question IQ Test</title><content type='html'>Here's a one-question IQ Test to help you decide how you should spend the rest of your day...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a mute who wants to buy a toothbrush.  By imitating the action of brushing one'steeth, he successfully expresses himself to the shopkeeper and the purchase is done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if there is a blind man who wishes to buy a pair of sunglasses, how should he express  himself?       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it first before scrolling down for the answer.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He opens his mouth and says. "I would like tobuy a pair of sunglasses"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-1325305370771354651?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/1325305370771354651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=1325305370771354651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1325305370771354651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/1325305370771354651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/one-question-iq-test.html' title='One-Question IQ Test'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-7178008528447678898</id><published>2007-03-27T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T06:32:01.091-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'>Fences</title><content type='html'>Three contractors are bidding to fix a broken fence at the White House in D.C..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One from New Jersey, another from Tennessee and the third, Florida. They  go with a White House official to examine the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Florida contractor takes out a tape measure and does some Measuring, then works some figures with a pencil. "Well," he says, "I figure the job will run about $900: $400 for materials, $400 for my crew and $100 profit for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Tennessee contractor also does some measuring and figuring, then says,  I can do this job for $700: $300 for materials, $300 for my crew and $100 profit for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The New Jersey contractor doesn't measure or figure, but leans over to the White House official and whispers, "$2,700."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The official, incredulous, says, "You didn't even measure like the other guys! How did you come up with such a high figure?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The New Jersey contractor whispers back, "$1,000 for me, $1,000 for you,  and we hire the guy from Tennessee to fix the fence."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Done!" replies the government official.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-7178008528447678898?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/7178008528447678898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=7178008528447678898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7178008528447678898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/7178008528447678898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/fences.html' title='Fences'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6407562528740833562</id><published>2007-03-27T06:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T06:29:18.436-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Spinster........</title><content type='html'>An elderly spinster called the lawyer's office and told the receptionist she wanted to see the lawyer about having a will prepared.  The receptionist suggested they set up anappointment for a convenient time for the spinster to come into the office.  The woman replied, "You must understand, I've lived alone all my life, I rarely see anyone, and I don't like to go out. Would it be possible for the lawyer to come to my house?"&lt;br /&gt;The receptionist checked with the attorney who agreed and he went to the spinster's home for the meeting to discuss her estate and the will. &lt;br /&gt;The lawyer's first question was, "Would you please tell me what you have in assets and how you'd like them to be distributed under your will?"&lt;br /&gt;She replied, "Besides the furniture and accessories you see here, I have $40,000 in my savings account at the bank."&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me," the lawyer asked, "how would you like the $40,000 to be distributed?"&lt;br /&gt;The spinster said, "Well, as I've told you, I've lived a reclusive life, people have hardly ever noticed me, so I'd like them to notice when I pass on. I'd like to provide $35,000 for my funeral."&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer remarked, "Well, for $35,000 you will be able to have a funeral that will certainly be noticed and will leave a lasting impression on anyone who may not have taken much note of you! But tell me," he continued, "what would you like to do with the remaining $5,000?"&lt;br /&gt;The spinster replied, "As you know, I've never married, I've lived alone almost my entire life, and in fact I've never slept with a man. Before I die, I'd like you to use the $5,000 to arrange for a man to sleep with me."&lt;br /&gt;"This is a very unusual request," the lawyer said, adding, "but I'll see what I can do to arrange it and get back to you."&lt;br /&gt;That evening, the lawyer was at home telling his wife about the eccentric spinster and her weird request.  After thinking about how much she could do around the house with $5,000 and with a bit of coaxing, she got her husband to agree to provide the service himself. &lt;br /&gt;She said, "I'll drive you over tomorrow morning, and wait in the car until you're finished."&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, she drove him to the spinster's house and waited while he went into the house.  She waited for over an hour, but her husband didn't come out. So she blew the car horn.  Shortly, the upstairs bedroom window opened, the lawyer stuck his head out and yelled, "Pick me up tomorrow, she's going to let the County bury her!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6407562528740833562?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6407562528740833562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6407562528740833562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6407562528740833562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6407562528740833562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/spinster.html' title='Spinster........'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6778527131010793740</id><published>2007-03-27T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T06:11:39.134-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RELIGION'/><title type='text'>Two Nuns</title><content type='html'>There were two nuns...&lt;br /&gt;One of them was known as Sister Mathematical (SM), and the other one was known as Sister Logical (SL). It is getting dark and they are still far away from the convent.&lt;br /&gt;SM: Have you noticed that a man has been following us for the past thirty-eight and a half minutes? I wonder what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;SL: It's logical. He wants to molest us.&lt;br /&gt;SM: Oh, no! At this rate he will reach us in 15 minutes at the most! What can we do?&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing to do of course is to walk faster.&lt;br /&gt;SM: It's not working.&lt;br /&gt;SL: Of course it's not working. The man did the only logical thing. He started to walk faster, too.&lt;br /&gt;SM: So, what shall we do? At this rate he will reach us in one minute.&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing we can do is split. You go that way and I'll go this way. He cannot follow us both.&lt;br /&gt;So the man decided to follow Sister Logical. Sister Mathematical arrives at the convent and is worried about what has happened to Sister Logical. Then Sister Logical arrives&lt;br /&gt;SM: Sister Logical! Thank God you are here! Tell me what happened!&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing happened. The man couldn't follow us both, so he followed me&lt;br /&gt;SM: Yes, yes! But what happened then?&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing happened. I started to run as fast as I could and he started to run as fast as he could.&lt;br /&gt;SM: And?&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing happened. He reached me&lt;br /&gt;SM: Oh, dear! What did you do?&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing to do. I lifted my dress up.&lt;br /&gt;SM: Oh, Sister! What did the man do?&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing to do. He pulled down his pants.&lt;br /&gt;SM: Oh, no! What happened then?&lt;br /&gt;SL: Isn't it logical, Sister? A nun with her dress up can run faster than man with his pants down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And for those of you who thought it would be dirty, I'll pray for you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6778527131010793740?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6778527131010793740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6778527131010793740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6778527131010793740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6778527131010793740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/two-nuns.html' title='Two Nuns'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-6004720375544173013</id><published>2007-03-21T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T13:37:55.999-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Guts or Balls</title><content type='html'>We've all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you  informed, the definition for each is listed below....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GUTS - is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: "Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BALLS - is coming home late after a night out with the guys,  smelling of perfume and beer,  lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and having the balls to say: "You're next."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-6004720375544173013?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/6004720375544173013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=6004720375544173013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6004720375544173013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/6004720375544173013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/guts-or-balls.html' title='Guts or Balls'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-5487021410343436629</id><published>2007-03-21T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T13:36:12.475-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'>Subject: Clocks</title><content type='html'>A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him. He asked, "What are all those clocks?"&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter answered, "Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie, the hands on your clock will move." &lt;br /&gt;"Oh," said the man, "whose clock is that?"&lt;br /&gt;"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie."&lt;br /&gt;"Incredible," said the man. "And whose clock is that one?"&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire Life."&lt;br /&gt;"Where's Hillary Clinton's clock?" asked the man.&lt;br /&gt;"Hillary's clock is in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-5487021410343436629?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/5487021410343436629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=5487021410343436629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5487021410343436629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/5487021410343436629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/subject-clocks.html' title='Subject: Clocks'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3163809126860516969</id><published>2007-03-21T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T13:34:55.541-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political'/><title type='text'>Cannibal Menu</title><content type='html'>A cannibal was walking through the jungle and came upon a restaurant opened by a fellow&lt;br /&gt;cannibal.   Feeling somewhat hungry, he sat down and looked over the menu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broiled Missionary . . . . ... . $10.00&lt;br /&gt;Fried Explorer . . . ... . . .......$11.00&lt;br /&gt;Baked Politician . . ... . ........$100.00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cannibal called the waiter over and asked, "Why such a price difference for the politician?"&lt;br /&gt;The waiter replied, "Have you ever tried to clean one? They're full of shit!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3163809126860516969?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3163809126860516969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3163809126860516969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3163809126860516969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3163809126860516969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/cannibal-menu.html' title='Cannibal Menu'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28500438.post-3593083221379807378</id><published>2007-03-21T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T13:33:11.130-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Employment'/><title type='text'>Job interview</title><content type='html'>Reaching the end of a job interview, the Human Resources Officer asked a young Engineer fresh out of MIT, "And what starting salary were you looking for?"&lt;br /&gt;The Engineer replies, "In the region of $125,000 a year, depending on the benefits package."&lt;br /&gt;The interviewer enquires, "Well, what would you say to a package of 5-weeks vacation, 14 paid holidays, full medical and dental, a company matching retirement fund to 50% of salary, and a company car leased every 2 years say, a red Corvette?"&lt;br /&gt;The Engineer sits up straight and says, "Wow! Are you kidding?"&lt;br /&gt;And the interviewer replies, "Yeah, but you started it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28500438-3593083221379807378?l=haydenss-bs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/feeds/3593083221379807378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28500438&amp;postID=3593083221379807378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3593083221379807378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28500438/posts/default/3593083221379807378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haydenss-bs.blogspot.com/2007/03/job-interview.html' title='Job interview'/><author><name>Val-Pal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05279533816259037986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aEsS6Lsp6gM/RoUf_Wx6n4I/AAAAAAAAAdM/AWQNJ3HnzHw/s400/Witch+sunning.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
