<?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-3497195</id><updated>2011-12-15T03:20:02.596Z</updated><title type='text'>Office Trolley</title><subtitle type='html'>Feel free to send your best jokes to &lt;a href="mailto:joke@flares.co.uk"&gt;joke@flares.co.uk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>180</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-3471289288855697160</id><published>2007-08-24T17:01:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-08-24T17:01:12.282Z</updated><title type='text'>Chauvenist answer</title><content type='html'>&amp;gt; Son asked his mother  the following question:&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Mom, why are wedding  dresses white?&amp;quot; The mother looks at her son and&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Replies, &amp;quot;Son, this shows  your friends and relatives that your bride is&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; pure.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; The son thanks his  Mom and goes off to double-check this with his father.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Dad why are  wedding dresses white?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; The father looks at  his son in surprise and says,&amp;quot;Son, all household&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; appliances come in  white.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-3471289288855697160?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3471289288855697160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=3471289288855697160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/3471289288855697160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/3471289288855697160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/chauvenist-answer.html' title='Chauvenist answer'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-3335216313954970485</id><published>2007-06-24T19:08:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-06-24T19:08:57.203Z</updated><title type='text'>Got one over on the lazy police</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://humor.beecy.net/misc/jobad/robber-shot.jpg"&gt;http://humor.beecy.net/misc/jobad/robber-shot.jpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-3335216313954970485?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3335216313954970485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=3335216313954970485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/3335216313954970485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/3335216313954970485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/got-one-over-on-lazy-police.html' title='Got one over on the lazy police'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-7123119420574883264</id><published>2007-06-24T18:34:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-06-24T19:11:00.046Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font style="font-size: 11px; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma" size="1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 8.50pt; font-family: Tahoma"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote style="padding-left: 5px; margin-left: 5px; border-left-color: #a0c6e5; border-left-width: 2px; border-left-style: solid; margin-right: 0px"&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote style="border-right-color: #000000; border-right-width: medium; border-right-style: none; padding-right: 0cm; border-top-color: #000000; border-top-width: medium; border-top-style: none; padding-left: 4pt; padding-bottom: 0cm; margin-top: 5pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-left: 3.75pt; border-left-color: #a0c6e5; border-left-width: 1.50pt; border-left-style: solid; padding-top: 0cm; border-bottom-color: #000000; border-bottom-width: medium; border-bottom-style: none"&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="text-indent: 6pt"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt"&gt;&amp;nbsp; 1. I am currently out at a job interview and will&amp;nbsp;reply to you if I&amp;nbsp;fail to get the position. I may be a little moody so be prepared.  &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 2. You are receiving this automatic notification&amp;nbsp;because I am out of&amp;nbsp;the office. If I was in, chances are you wouldn&amp;#39;t have&amp;nbsp;received&amp;nbsp;anything at all.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 3. Sorry to have missed you, but I am at the&amp;nbsp;doctor&amp;#39;s having my brain&amp;nbsp;removed so I can be promoted to our management team.  &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 4. I will be unable to delete all the unread, worthless emails you&amp;nbsp;send me until I return from vacation. Please be patient, and&amp;nbsp;your mail will be deleted in the order it was received.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 5. Thank you for your email. Your  credit card has been charged £5.99&amp;nbsp;for&amp;nbsp;the first 10 words and £1.99 for each additional word in your message.  &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 6. The e-mail server is unable to verify your server connection and is&amp;nbsp;unable to deliver this message. Please restart your computer and try&amp;nbsp;sending again. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; (The beauty of this is that when you return, you can see&amp;nbsp;how many in-duh-viduals did this over and over.) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 7. Thank you for your message, which has been added&amp;nbsp;to a queuing&amp;nbsp; system. You are currently in 352nd place, and can expect to&amp;nbsp;receive a&amp;nbsp;reply in approximately 19 weeks. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 8. Hi, I&amp;#39;m thinking about what you&amp;#39;ve just sent me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Please wait by your PC for my response. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 9. I&amp;#39;ve run away  to join a different circus.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; 10. I will be out of the office for the next 2 weeks&amp;nbsp;for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me as &amp;quot;Sally&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; instead of &amp;quot;Steve&amp;quot;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-7123119420574883264?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7123119420574883264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=7123119420574883264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/7123119420574883264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/7123119420574883264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/out-of-office-automatic-replies.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-3091541674580696721</id><published>2007-05-13T23:30:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-05-13T23:30:44.848Z</updated><title type='text'>Tax Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 11px; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt"&gt;At the end of the tax year, the Tax Office sent an inspector to&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; audit the books of a synagogue.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said: &amp;quot;I&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;drippings&amp;quot;?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Good question&amp;quot;, noted the Rabbi. &amp;quot;We save them up and send them to&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;box of&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;candles&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Oh&amp;quot;, replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;question had a practical answer, but on he went, in his obnoxious&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;way: &amp;quot;What about all these biscuit purchases? What do you do with&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;the  crumbs&amp;quot;?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Ah, yes&amp;quot;, replied the Rabbi, realising that the inspector was &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;trying to trap him with an unanswerable question. &amp;quot;We collect them&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;send a free box of holy biscuits&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;I see&amp;quot;, replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;fluster the know-it-all Rabbi. &amp;quot;Well, Rabbi&amp;quot;, he went on, &amp;quot;What do&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;perform&amp;quot;?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Here, too, we do not waste&amp;quot;, answered the Rabbi. &amp;quot;What we do is &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;save up all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office, and about&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;once a year they send us a complete dick.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-3091541674580696721?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3091541674580696721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=3091541674580696721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/3091541674580696721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/3091541674580696721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/tax-man.html' title='Tax Man'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-6840193116836242411</id><published>2007-05-03T08:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-03T08:04:01.535Z</updated><title type='text'>Speeding</title><content type='html'>A Florida senior citizen drove his brand new Corvette convertible out of&lt;br&gt;the dealership. Taking off down the road, he pushed it to 80 mph,&lt;br&gt;enjoying the wind blowing through what little hair he had left.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Amazing,&amp;quot; he thought as he flew down I-75, pushing the pedal even more.&lt;br&gt;Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw the state trooper behind him,&lt;br&gt;blue lights flashing and siren blaring.&lt;p&gt;He floored it to 100 mph, then 110, then 140. Suddenly he thought, &amp;quot;What the&lt;br&gt;heck am I doing? I&amp;#39;m too old for this,&amp;quot; and pulled over to await the&lt;br&gt;trooper&amp;#39;s arrival.&lt;p&gt;Pulling in behind him, the trooper walked up to the Corvette, looked at&lt;br&gt;his watch and said, &amp;quot;Sir, my shift ends in 30 minutes. Today is Friday.&lt;br&gt;If you can give me a reason for speeding that I&amp;#39;ve never heard before, I&amp;#39;ll&lt;br&gt;let you go.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The old gentleman paused. Then said, &amp;quot;Years ago, my wife ran off with a&lt;br&gt;Florida State Trooper. I thought you were bringing her back.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Have a good day, Sir,&amp;quot; replied the trooper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-6840193116836242411?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6840193116836242411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=6840193116836242411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/6840193116836242411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/6840193116836242411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/speeding.html' title='Speeding'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-117448447724849000</id><published>2007-03-21T13:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-21T13:41:18.013Z</updated><title type='text'>Courtroom Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Actual courtroom transcripts from the book "Disorder in the Court."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  What is your date of birth?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  July fifteen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  What year?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Every year.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;     ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Gucci sweats and Reeboks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A: Yes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q: And in what ways does it affect your memory?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A: I forget.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q: You forget.  Can you give us an example of something that&lt;br /&gt;you've forgotten?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  How old is your son, the one living with you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember which.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  How long has he lived with you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Forty-five years.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  What was the first thing your husband said to you when he woke&lt;br /&gt;that morning?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  He said, "Where am I, Cathy?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And why did that upset you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  My name is Susan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And where was the location of the accident?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Approximately milepost 499.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And where is milepost 499?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Probably between milepost 498 and 500.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Sir, what is your IQ?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Well, I can see pretty well, I think.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Did you blow your horn or anything?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  After the accident?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Before the accident.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Sure, I played for ten years. I even went to school for it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Trooper, when you stopped the defendant, were your red and&lt;br /&gt;blue lights flashing?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Yes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Did the defendant say anything when she got out of her car?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Yes, sir.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  What did she say?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  What disco am I at?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;     ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his&lt;br /&gt;sleep, he doesn't know about&lt;br /&gt;          it until the next morning?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  The youngest son, the twenty-year old, how old is he?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;     ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Were you present when your picture was taken?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Was it you or your younger brother who was killed in the war?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Did he kill you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  How far apart were the vehicles at the time of the collision?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  You were there until the time you left, is that true?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  How many times have you committed suicide?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Yes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And what were you doing at that time?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;     ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  She had three children, right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Yes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  How many were boys?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  None.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Were there any girls?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  You say the stairs went down to the basement?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Yes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And these stairs, did they go up also?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    --------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Mr. Slatery, you went on a rather elaborate honeymoon, didn't you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  I went to Europe, Sir.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And you took your new wife?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  How was your first marriage terminated?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  By death.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And by whose death was it terminated?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Can you describe the individual?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  He was about medium height and had a beard.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Was this a male, or a female?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice&lt;br /&gt;          which I sent to your attorney?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  No, this is how I dress when I go to work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Doctor, how many autopsies have you performed on dead people?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  All my autopsies are performed on dead people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;     ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  All your responses must be oral, OK?  What school did you go to?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Oral.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Do you recall the time that you examined the body?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an&lt;br /&gt;           autopsy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Are you qualified to give a urine sample?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  No.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Did you check for blood pressure?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  No.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  Did you check for breathing?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  No.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began&lt;br /&gt;          the autopsy?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  No.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  How can you be so sure, Doctor?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  But could the patient have still been alive nevertheless?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  It is possible that he could have been alive and practicing&lt;br /&gt;law somewhere.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    ---------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    Q:  You were not shot in the fracas?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;    A:  No, I was shot midway between the fracas and the navel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-117448447724849000?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/117448447724849000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/117448447724849000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/courtroom-quotes.html' title='Courtroom Quotes'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116991448691170335</id><published>2007-01-27T16:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-27T16:14:46.996Z</updated><title type='text'>Chicken farmer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;     A chicken farmer went to a local bar... sat next&lt;br /&gt;to a woman and ordered a glass of champagne.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 The woman perks up and says, "How about that?  I&lt;br /&gt;just ordered a glass of champagne, too!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 "What a coincidence," the farmer says, "This is&lt;br /&gt;a special day for me, I'm celebrating."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 "This is a special day for me too, I'm also&lt;br /&gt;celebrating!" says the woman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 "What a coincidence," says the man.  As they&lt;br /&gt;clinked glasses the farmer asked, "What are you celebrating?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 "My husband and I have been trying to have a&lt;br /&gt;child, and today my gynecologist told me that I'm pregnant!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 "What a coincidence," says the man .. "I'm a&lt;br /&gt;chicken farmer, and for years all my hens were infertile, but&lt;br /&gt;today they're finally laying fertilized eggs."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 "That's great!" says the woman, "How did your&lt;br /&gt;chickens become fertile?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 "I used a different cock," he replied.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;                 The woman smiled and said, "What a&lt;br /&gt;coincidence..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116991448691170335?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116991448691170335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116991448691170335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/chicken-farmer.html' title='Chicken farmer'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116973644487673076</id><published>2007-01-25T14:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-25T14:47:24.943Z</updated><title type='text'>The 3 minute management course</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 11px; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;Lesson 1&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower, when the doorbell rings. The wife quickly wraps herself in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next-door neighbour. Before she says a word, Bob says, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;ll give you £800 to drop that towel.&amp;quot; After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob. After a few seconds, Bob hands her £800 and leaves. The woman wraps back up in the towel and goes back upstairs. &lt;br&gt;When she gets to the bathroom, her husband asks, &amp;quot;Who was that?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;It was Bob the next door neighbour,&amp;quot; she replies. &amp;quot;Great!&amp;quot; the husband says, &amp;quot;did he say anything about the £800 he owes me?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;br&gt;If you share critical information pertaining to credit and  risk with your shareholders in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote style="padding-left: 5px; margin-left: 5px; border-left-color: #a0c6e5; border-left-width: 2px; border-left-style: solid; margin-right: 0px"&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;Lesson 2&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;br&gt;A priest offered a Nun a lift. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg. The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg. The nun said, &amp;quot;Father, &lt;br&gt;remember Psalm 129?&amp;quot; The priest removed his hand. But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, &amp;quot;Father, remember Psalm 129?&amp;quot; The priest apologised &amp;quot;Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.&amp;quot; Arriving at the convent, the nun went on her way. On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129. It said, &amp;quot;Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;br&gt;If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote style="padding-left: 5px; margin-left: 5px; border-left-color: #a0c6e5; border-left-width: 2px; border-left-style: solid; margin-right: 0px"&gt; &lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lesson 3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;br&gt;A sales rep, an administration clerk, and the manager are walking to lunch when they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out. The Genie says, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;ll give each of you just one wish. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;&amp;quot; Me first! Me first!&amp;quot; says the admin clerk. &amp;quot;I want to be in the Bahamas, driving a speedboat, without a care in the world.&amp;quot; Puff! She&amp;#39;s gone.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp;Me next! Me next!&amp;quot; says the sales rep. &amp;quot;I want to be in Hawaii, relaxing on the beach with my personal masseuse, an endless supply of Pina Coladas and the love of my life.&amp;quot; Puff! He&amp;#39;s gone. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;quot;OK, you&amp;#39;re up,&amp;quot; the Genie says to the manager.&lt;br&gt;The manager says, &amp;quot;I want those two back in the office after lunch.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;br&gt;Always let your boss have the first say. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote style="padding-left: 5px; margin-left: 5px; border-left-color: #a0c6e5; border-left-width: 2px; border-left-style: solid; margin-right: 0px"&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lesson 4&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt; An eagle was sitting on a tree resting, doing nothing. A small rabbit saw the eagle and asked him, &amp;quot;Can I also sit like you and do nothing?&amp;quot; The eagle answered: &amp;quot;Sure, why not.&amp;quot; So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the eagle and rested. All of a sudden, a fox appeared, jumped on the rabbit and ate it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;br&gt;To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very, very high up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lesson 5&lt;br&gt;A turkey was chatting with a bull. &amp;quot;I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree,&amp;quot; sighed the turkey, &amp;quot;but I haven&amp;#39;t got the energy.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Well, why don&amp;#39;t you nibble on some of my droppings?&amp;quot; replied the bull.&amp;quot;They&amp;#39;re packed with nutrients.&amp;quot; The turkey pecked at a lump of dung, and found it actually gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. Finally after a  fourth night, the turkey was proudly perched at the top of the tree. He was promptly spotted by a farmer, who shot him out of the tree. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;br&gt;BullSh!t might get you to the top, but it won&amp;#39;t keep you there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lesson 6&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;A little bird was flying south for the winter. It was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow dung, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy. A passing cat heard the bird d singing and came to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow dung, and promptly dug him out and ate him. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Morals of the story:&lt;br&gt;(1) Not everyone who sh!ts on you is your enemy&lt;br&gt;(2) Not everyone who gets you out of sh!t is your friend&lt;br&gt;(3) And when you&amp;#39;re in deep sh!t, it&amp;#39;s best to keep your mouth shut!&lt;br&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font face="Tahoma"&gt;This ends the 3-minute management course.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116973644487673076?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116973644487673076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116973644487673076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/3-minute-management-course.html' title='The 3 minute management course'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116921596790212814</id><published>2007-01-19T14:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-19T14:12:47.953Z</updated><title type='text'>Top tips</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;courtesy of Viz...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;DON'T waste money on expensive iPods. Simply think of your&lt;br /&gt;favourite tune and hum it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;If you want to "switch tracks", simply think of another song&lt;br /&gt;you like and hum that instead.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;CINEMA goers. Please have consideration for pirate DVD&lt;br /&gt;viewers by having a p*ss before the film starts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;RAPPERS. Avoid having to say 'know what I'm sayin' all the&lt;br /&gt;time by actually speaking clearly in the first place.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;DON'T waste money on expensive paper shredders to avoid&lt;br /&gt;having your identity stolen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Simply place a few dog turds in the bin bags along with your&lt;br /&gt;old bank statements.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;WORRIED that your teeth will be stained after a heavy night&lt;br /&gt;drinking red wine?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Simply drink a bottle of white wine before going to bed to&lt;br /&gt;remove the stains.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;MURDERERS Need to dispose of a body? Simply parcel it up and&lt;br /&gt;post it to yourself via DHL.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; You will never see it again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;BURGLARS. When fleeing from the police, run with your right&lt;br /&gt;arm sticking out at 90 degrees, wrapped in a baby mattress in case they&lt;br /&gt;set one of their dogs on you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;EMPLOYERS Avoid hiring unlucky people by immediately tossing&lt;br /&gt;half the CVs into the bin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;MEN When listening to your favourite CD, simply turn up the&lt;br /&gt;sound to the volume you desire; then turn it down three notches. This&lt;br /&gt;will save your wife from having to do it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;GAMBLERS. For a new gambling opportunity, try sending £50 to&lt;br /&gt;yourself by Royal Mail.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;BANGING two pistachio nutshells together gives the&lt;br /&gt;impression that a very small horse is approaching.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;BLIND PEOPLE Give yourself at least a chance of seeing&lt;br /&gt;something by not wearing heavy dark glasses all the time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;ALCOHOL makes an ideal substitute for happiness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;DRIVERS. If a car breaks down or stalls in front of you,&lt;br /&gt;beep your horn and wave your arms frantically.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This should help the car start and send them on their way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;PREVENT burglars stealing everything in the house by simply&lt;br /&gt;moving everything in the house into your bedroom when you go to bed. In&lt;br /&gt;the morning, simply move it all back again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;CAR thieves Don't be discouraged when nothing is on view.&lt;br /&gt;All the valuables may be hidden in the glove box or under a seat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;DEPRESSED people. Instead of attempting suicide as a 'cry&lt;br /&gt;for help', simply shout 'Help!' thus saving money on paracetamol, etc.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;MOTORISTS Avoid getting prosecuted for using your phone&lt;br /&gt;whilst driving.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Simply pop your mobile inside a large shell and the police&lt;br /&gt;will think you are listening to the sea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;SHOES last twice as long if only worn every other day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;SINGLE men Convince people that you have a girlfriend by&lt;br /&gt;standing outside Etam with several bags of shopping, looking at your&lt;br /&gt;watch and occasionally glancing inside.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;ALCOHOLICS don't worry where the next drink is coming from.&lt;br /&gt;Go to the pub, where a large selection is available at retail prices.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;McDONALD'S Make your brown carrier bags green in colour so&lt;br /&gt;they blend in with the countryside after they've been thrown out of car windows.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;And the absolute belter for last&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;WOMEN Don't waste energy faking orgasms. Most men couldn't&lt;br /&gt;give a shit anyway and you could use the saved energy to hoover the&lt;br /&gt;house after you've been banged.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116921596790212814?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116921596790212814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116921596790212814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/top-tips.html' title='Top tips'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116604676583739206</id><published>2006-12-13T21:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:52:45.990Z</updated><title type='text'>Your usual Irish stereotype joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;span class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;font style="font-size: 11px; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt"&gt;Paddy's doing well on &amp;quot;Who wants to be a Millionaire&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;He's got £500,000. Chris Tarrant asks him the big question for 1million&lt;br&gt;quid. &amp;quot;Paddy, for £1million, who was the great train robber? Was it,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A, Ronnie Barker...&lt;br&gt;B, Ronnie O'Sullivan...&lt;br&gt;C, Ronnie Corbett or..was it &lt;br&gt;D, Ronnie Biggs???&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Paddy say's...&amp;quot;Oi'll take de money please Chris&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Chris reminds him that he still has his 3 life lines left.&lt;br&gt;Paddy again say's..&amp;quot;Nope, Oi'll take de money please Chris&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;You don't want to phone a friend?&amp;quot; says Chris.&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;No t'anks, Oi'll take de money - final answer&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;OK&amp;quot; says Chris, looking bemused &amp;quot;give him a round of applause ladies and&lt;br&gt;gentlemen, Paddy goes away with £500,000. However before  you go, you'll &lt;br&gt;obviously want to know what the answer was Paddy?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Paddy said &amp;quot;No, yer alroight, Oi knew de answer anyway, t'anks Chris&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;You knew it anyway!....are you mad!!!&amp;quot; asks Chris, &amp;quot;Are you mental?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;Paddy says, &amp;quot;Oi moight be mental Chris....but Oi'm no feckin grass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116604676583739206?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116604676583739206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116604676583739206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/your-usual-irish-stereotype-joke.html' title='Your usual Irish stereotype joke'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116600848748278755</id><published>2006-12-13T11:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T11:14:47.956Z</updated><title type='text'>Chain letter</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;No virus found in this incoming message.&lt;br /&gt;Checked by AVG Free Edition.&lt;br /&gt;Version: 7.5.432 / Virus Database: 268.15.16/582 - Release Date: 11/12/2006 16:32&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 12pt; margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; font-family: Arial" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="100%" border="0"&gt; &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial" width="100%"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At last !! A decent chain letter as opposed to normal chain        letters/pyramid&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;schemes, this one costs nothing, and you can only win. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Simply send this e-mail to 9 of your mates.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;INSTRUCTIONS:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anaesthetize your wife, put her in a large carton, (don't forget        some&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ventilation holes), and send it to the person who is at the top of        your &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;list.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soon, your name will be at the top of the list, and you will receive        823,542&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;women through the post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Statistically, among those women, will be at least: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;0.5 Miss Worlds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.5 Models&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;463 Wild nymphos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3,234 Good-looking nymphos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20,198 Who enjoy multiple orgasms&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;40,198 Bi-sexual women.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; In total, that is 64,294 women who are simply hornier, less        inhibited, and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tastier than the grumpy old bag you posted off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, best of all, your original package is guaranteed not to be one        of those &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that come back to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DO NOT BREAK THIS CHAIN LETTER.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One bloke for example who sent the letter to only 5 instead of 9 of        his&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;friends got his original bird back, still in the old dressing gown he        sent &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;her off in, with the same old migraine attack, and the        accusatorial&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;expression on her face. On the same day, the international supermodel        he'd&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;been living with since he sent off his old girlfriend moved out to        live with &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;his best friend (to whom he had not sent the chain letter).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I am sending this letter, the bloke that is in 6th place above        me has&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;already received 837 women and is lying in hospital suffering        from &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;exhaustion. Outside his ward are 452 more packages.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YOU MUST BELIEVE THIS E-MAIL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a unique opportunity to achieve a totally satisfying sex        life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No expensive meals out, no lengthy conversations about trivialities        (that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;only interest women).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No obligations, no grumpy mother-in-law, and no unpleasant surprises        like&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;marriage or engagement. Do not hesitate........send this letter today        to 9&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;of your best friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS. - Even when you have no girlfriend, you can send your vacuum        cleaner;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;one of the other women that arrives will know how to use it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; PPS. - This letter can also be copied to women you know so that they        can&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;prepare themselves for the great adventure that they may soon        undertake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%"&gt; &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br clear="all"&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116600848748278755?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116600848748278755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116600848748278755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/chain-letter.html' title='Chain letter'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116558946558282398</id><published>2006-12-08T14:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-08T14:51:05.643Z</updated><title type='text'>Tony Blair v The Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Tony Blair was at his weekly meeting with the Queen when he said, "As I'm&lt;br /&gt;the PM, I'm thinking of changing how the country is referred to.... I'm&lt;br /&gt;thinking that it should be a kingdom". To which the Queen replied, "I'm&lt;br /&gt;sorry Mr. Blair, but to be a kingdom you have to have a king in charge -&lt;br /&gt;and you're not a king."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Tony Blair thought a while and then said, "How about a principality then?"&lt;br /&gt;To which the Queen replied, "Sorry again, but to be a principality you&lt;br /&gt;have to be a prince - you're not a prince Mr. Blair."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Again, Blair thought long and hard and came up with, "How about an emperor&lt;br /&gt;then?"  The Queen, getting a little p***ed off by now, replied ""Sorry&lt;br /&gt;again Mr. Blair, but to be an empire you must have an emperor in charge -&lt;br /&gt;and you are not an emperor."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Before Tony Blair could utter another word the Queen said, "I think we're&lt;br /&gt;doing quite nicely as a country!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116558946558282398?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116558946558282398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116558946558282398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/tony-blair-v-queen.html' title='Tony Blair v The Queen'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116478247256176423</id><published>2006-11-29T06:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-29T06:41:12.626Z</updated><title type='text'>Mood Ring</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;My husband, who's not happy with my mood swings, bought me a mood ring&lt;br /&gt;the other day so he would be able to monitor my moods.&lt;br /&gt;When I'm in a good mood it turns green.&lt;br /&gt;When I'm in a bad mood it leaves a big fucking red mark on his&lt;br /&gt;forehead. Maybe next time he'll buy me a diamond&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116478247256176423?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116478247256176423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116478247256176423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/mood-ring.html' title='Mood Ring'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116360045987840970</id><published>2006-11-15T14:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-15T14:21:00.056Z</updated><title type='text'>GREEK PHILOSOPHY</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;&amp;gt; Keep this philosophy in mind the next time you either&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; hear or are about to repeat a rumor.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC) Socrates was widely&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; lauded for his wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; One day the great philosopher came upon an&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; acquaintance who ran up to him excitedly and said,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "Socrates, do you know what I  just heard about&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; one of your students?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "Wait a moment," Socrates replied.  "Before you  tell&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; me, I'd like you to pass a little test.  It's called&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; the Triple Filter  Test."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "Triple filter?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "That's right,"  Socrates continued.   "Before you&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; talk to me about my student, let's take a moment to&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; filter what  you're going to say.  The first filter is&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; Truth.  Have you made  absolutely sure that what you&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; are about to tell me is  true?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; and..."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "All right," said Socrates.  "So you don't really&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; know if it's true or not.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; Now let's try the second filter, the filter of&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; Goodness.  Is what you are about to tell me about my&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; student something  good?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "No, on the contrary..."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; something bad about him, even though you're not&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; certain it's  true?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; The man shrugged, a little  embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; Socrates continued.  "You may still pass the test&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; though, because there is a third filter - the filter&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; of Usefulness.  Is  what you want to tell&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; me about my student going to be useful to  me?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "No, not really"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; "Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; me is neither True nor Good nor Useful, why tell it to&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; me at  all?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; The man was defeated and  ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; and held in such high esteem.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; It also explains why he never found out that Plato was&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt; banging his wife.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116360045987840970?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116360045987840970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116360045987840970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/greek-philosophy.html' title='GREEK PHILOSOPHY'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116255946854962805</id><published>2006-11-03T13:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-03T13:11:08.623Z</updated><title type='text'>Definition of Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington&lt;br /&gt; chemistry mid-term.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared&lt;br /&gt;it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now&lt;br /&gt; have the pleasure of enjoying it as well :&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic&lt;br /&gt;(absorbs heat)?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law&lt;br /&gt;(gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some&lt;br /&gt; variant.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;One student, however, wrote the following:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we&lt;br /&gt;need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate&lt;br /&gt;at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once&lt;br /&gt; a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are&lt;br /&gt;leaving.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the&lt;br /&gt;different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these&lt;br /&gt;religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you&lt;br /&gt;will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and&lt;br /&gt;since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project&lt;br /&gt;that all souls go to Hell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of&lt;br /&gt;souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of&lt;br /&gt;change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in&lt;br /&gt;order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the&lt;br /&gt;volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This gives two possibilities:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls&lt;br /&gt;enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase&lt;br /&gt;until all Hell breaks loose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in&lt;br /&gt;Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes&lt;br /&gt;over.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;So which is it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman&lt;br /&gt;year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and&lt;br /&gt;take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number&lt;br /&gt;two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and&lt;br /&gt;has already frozen over.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it&lt;br /&gt;follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore,&lt;br /&gt;extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence&lt;br /&gt;of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept&lt;br /&gt;shouting "Oh my God."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116255946854962805?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116255946854962805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116255946854962805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/definition-of-hell.html' title='Definition of Hell'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116159506293319061</id><published>2006-10-23T09:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-23T09:17:44.236Z</updated><title type='text'>A Senior Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;An elderly couple were having dinner at another couple's house and&lt;br /&gt;after their meal, the wives left the table to go to the kitchen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The two elderly gents were talking, and one says: "Last night we went&lt;br /&gt;out to a fabulous new restaurant .I'd highly recommend."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The other man says: "What's the name of the restaurant?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The first man thinks long and hard with a furrowed brow, finally&lt;br /&gt;saying: "Ah, what is the name of that red flower you give to someone&lt;br /&gt;you love?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;His friend replies: "A carnation?" "No, no. The other one," the man says.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;His friend suggest "The poppy?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;"No, no, no" growls the man.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;"You know - the one that is red and has thorns."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;His friend says: "Do you mean a rose?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;"Yes! Thank you!" the first man says. He then turns toward the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;and yells: "Rose, what's the name of that restaurant we went to last&lt;br /&gt;night?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116159506293319061?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116159506293319061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116159506293319061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/senior-moment.html' title='A Senior Moment'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-116153681700660312</id><published>2006-10-22T17:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-22T17:06:57.090Z</updated><title type='text'>Interesting if its true</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;A Charlotte, North Carolina lawyer purchased a box of very rare and&lt;br /&gt;expensive cigars, then insured them against fire, among other things.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Within a month, having smoked his entire stockpile of these great&lt;br /&gt;cigars and without yet having made even his first premium payment on&lt;br /&gt;the policy the lawyer filed claim against the insurance company. In&lt;br /&gt;his claim, the lawyer stated the cigars were lost "in a series of&lt;br /&gt;small fires." The insurance company refused to pay, citing the obvious&lt;br /&gt;reason that the man had consumed the cigars in the normal fashion.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The lawyer sued.. and WON! (Stay with me.) Delivering the ruling, the&lt;br /&gt;judge agreed with the insurance company that the claim was frivolous.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The judge stated nevertheless, that the lawyer "held a policy from the&lt;br /&gt;company which it had warranted that the cigars were insurable and also&lt;br /&gt;guaranteed that it would insure them against fire, without defining&lt;br /&gt;what is considered to be unacceptable fire" and was obligated to pay&lt;br /&gt;the claim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Rather than endure lengthy and costly appeal process, the insurance&lt;br /&gt;company accepted the ruling and paid $15,000 to the lawyer for his&lt;br /&gt;loss of the cigars lost in the "fires".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;NOW FOR THE BEST PART...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;After the lawyer cashed the check, the insurance company had him&lt;br /&gt;arrested on 24 counts of ARSON!!! With his own insurance claim and&lt;br /&gt;testimony from the previous case being used against him, the lawyer&lt;br /&gt;was convicted of intentionally burning his insured property and was&lt;br /&gt;sentenced to 24 months in jail and a $24,000 fine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This is a true story and was the First Place winner in the recent&lt;br /&gt;Criminal Lawyers Award&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-116153681700660312?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116153681700660312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/116153681700660312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/interesting-if-its-true.html' title='Interesting if its true'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115979960287791473</id><published>2006-10-02T14:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-29T04:47:29.196Z</updated><title type='text'>Catholic Heart Attack</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-size: 12pt; margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; font-family: Arial" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="100%" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial" width="100%"&gt; A man suffered a serious heart attack and had open heart surgery. He awakened from the surgery to find himself in the care of nuns at a Catholic Hospital. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;As he was recovering, a nun asked him questions regarding how he was going to pay for his treatment.    She asked, &amp;quot;Do you have health insurance?&amp;quot;  &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He replied in a raspy voice,  &amp;quot;No health insurance.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;     &lt;br&gt;The nun asked, &amp;quot;Do you have money in the bank?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He replied, &amp;quot;No money in  the bank&amp;quot;. &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;The nun asked, &amp;quot;Do you have a relative who could help you?&amp;quot;  &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;He said, &amp;quot;I only have a spinster sister, who is a nun.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;     &lt;br&gt;The nun became agitated and announced loudly, &amp;quot;Nuns are not  spinsters!  Nuns are married to God.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;     &lt;br&gt;The patient replied: &amp;quot;Send the bill to my brother-in-law.&amp;quot;  &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%"&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115979960287791473?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115979960287791473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115979960287791473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/catholic-heart-attack.html' title='Catholic Heart Attack'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115926098913397724</id><published>2006-09-26T08:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-09-26T08:56:29.470Z</updated><title type='text'>Yes I know its an old one....but</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Painting the porch..........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; A blonde, wanting to earn some money, decided to hire herself out as&lt;br /&gt;a 'handy-woman' and started canvassing a nearby well-to-do&lt;br /&gt; neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt; She went to the front door of the first house and asked the owner if&lt;br /&gt;he had any odd jobs for her to do.&lt;br /&gt; Well, you can paint my porch," he said, how much will you charge me?"&lt;br /&gt; The blonde, after looking about, responded, "How about   $50?"&lt;br /&gt; The man agreed and told her that the paint and other materials that&lt;br /&gt;she might need were in the garage.&lt;br /&gt; The man's wife, inside the house, heard the conversation and said to&lt;br /&gt;her husband, "Does she realize that the porch goes all the way around&lt;br /&gt;the&lt;br /&gt; house?"&lt;br /&gt; The man replied, "She should; she was standing on it. Do you think&lt;br /&gt;she's dumb?"&lt;br /&gt; "No", replied the wife.  "I guess I'm guilty of being influenced by&lt;br /&gt;all  the 'dumb blonde' joke emails we've been receiving."&lt;br /&gt; A short time later, the blonde came to the door to collect her money.&lt;br /&gt; "You're finished already?" the husband asked.&lt;br /&gt; "Yes," the blonde replied, "and I had paint left over, so I gave it&lt;br /&gt;two coats."&lt;br /&gt; Impressed, the man reached into his pocket for the $50.00 and handed it to her.&lt;br /&gt; "And by the way," the blonde added, "it's not a Porch, it's a Lexus."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115926098913397724?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115926098913397724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115926098913397724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/09/yes-i-know-its-old-onebut.html' title='Yes I know its an old one....but'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115823916904586730</id><published>2006-09-14T13:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-09-14T13:06:09.113Z</updated><title type='text'>7 reasons not to mess with children..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div lang="EN-GB" link="#0000ff" vlink="#0000ff"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" style="width: 100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%" style="width: 100%; padding-top: 1.50pt; padding-right: 1.50pt; padding-bottom: 1.50pt; padding-left: 1.50pt"&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A little girl was   talking to her teacher about whales. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The teacher said   it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even   though it was a very large mammal its throat was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Very small. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The little girl   stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Irritated, the   teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically   impossible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The little girl   said, &amp;quot;When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah&amp;quot;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The teacher   asked, &amp;quot;What if Jonah went to hell ?&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The little girl   replied, &amp;quot;Then you ask him&amp;quot;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A Kindergarten   teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She   would occasionally walk around to see each &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Child's' work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;As she got to one   little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The girl replied,   &amp;quot;I'm drawing God.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The teacher   paused and said, &amp;quot;But no one knows what God looks like.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Without missing a   beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, &amp;quot;They will in a   minute.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A Sunday school   teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;After explaining   the commandment to &amp;quot;honor&amp;quot; thy Father and thy mother, she asked,   &amp;quot;Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;our brothers and   sisters?&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Without missing a   beat one little boy (the oldest of a family) answered, &amp;quot;Thou shall not   kill.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 7.50pt; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2" color="#000080" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000080"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&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 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;several strands   of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;She looked at her   mother and inquisitively asked, &amp;quot;Why are some of your hairs white,   Mom?&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Her mother   replied, &amp;quot;Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry   or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The little girl   thought about this revelation for a while and then said, &amp;quot;Momma, how   come ALL of grandma's hairs are white?&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" color="#000080" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000080"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 7.50pt; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2" color="#000080" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000080"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The children had   all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to &lt;font color="#000080"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000080"&gt; p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;ersuade them each to buy a copy of the   group picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt; &lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;quot;Just think   how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown&lt;font color="#000080"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000080"&gt; u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;p and say, &lt;font color="#000080"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000080"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or   'That's Michael, He's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt; &lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A doctor.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt; &lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A small voice at   the back of the room rang out, &amp;quot;And there's the&lt;font color="#000080"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000080"&gt; t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;eacher, she's dead.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 7.50pt; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2" color="#000080" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000080"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A teacher was   giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter   clearer, she said, &amp;quot;Now, class, if I stood on my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Head, the blood,   as y u know, would run into it, and I would turn red in the face.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot;   the class said.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;quot;Then why is   it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood   doesn't run into my feet?&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A little fellow   shouted, &amp;quot;Cause your feet ain't empty.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 7.50pt; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="2" color="#000080" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000080"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The children were   lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch. At the   head of the table was a large pile of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Apples. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;The nun made a   note, and posted on the apple tray: &amp;quot;Take only ONE. God is   watching.&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;Moving further   along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of   chocolate chip cookies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0pt"&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;A child had   written a note, &amp;quot;Take all you want.. God is watching the Apples. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%" style="width: 100%; padding-top: 1.50pt; padding-right: 1.50pt; padding-bottom: 1.50pt; padding-left: 1.50pt"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115823916904586730?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115823916904586730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115823916904586730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/09/7-reasons-not-to-mess-with-children.html' title='7 reasons not to mess with children..'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115798388214280152</id><published>2006-09-11T14:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-09-11T14:11:22.176Z</updated><title type='text'>Doctors waiting room</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;font size="4" color="#000000" face="Verdana"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana; color: #000000; font-style: italic"&gt;They   always ask at the doctor's office why you are there, and   you&amp;nbsp;have&amp;nbsp;to answer in front of others what's wrong and sometimes it   is very&amp;nbsp;embarrassing. There's nothing worse than a Doctor's Receptionist   who&amp;nbsp;insists you tell her what is wrong with you in a room full of   other&amp;nbsp;patients. I know most of us have experienced this, and I love the   way&amp;nbsp;this old guy handled it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &amp;nbsp;An 86 year old man walked into a crowded waiting room and approached   the&amp;nbsp;desk.... The Receptionist said, &amp;quot;Yes sir, what are you seeing   the Doctor&amp;nbsp;for today??&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;   &amp;nbsp;&amp;quot;There's something wrong with my dick&amp;quot;, he replied. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &amp;nbsp;The Receptionist became irritated and said, &amp;quot;You shouldn't come   into a&amp;nbsp;crowded waiting room and say things like that.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &amp;nbsp;Why not? You asked me what was wrong and I told you,&amp;quot; he said. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   The Receptionist replied; &amp;quot;Now you've caused some embarrassment in   this&amp;nbsp;room full of people. You should have said there is something wrong   with&amp;nbsp;your ear or something and discussed the problem further with the   Doctor in&amp;nbsp;private.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &amp;nbsp;The man replied, &amp;quot;You shouldn't ask people questions in a room   full&amp;nbsp;strangers, if the answer could embarrass anyone.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &amp;nbsp;The man walked out, waited several minutes and then re-entered.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;    &amp;nbsp;The Receptionist smiled smugly and asked, &amp;quot;Yes??&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &amp;nbsp;There's something wrong with my ear,&amp;quot; he stated.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   The Receptionist nodded approvingly and smiled, knowing he had taken&amp;nbsp;her   advice. &amp;quot;And what is wrong with your ear, Sir??&amp;quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div lang="EN-GB" link="#0000ff" vlink="#800080"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" style="width: 100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%" style="width: 100%; padding-top: 1.50pt; padding-right: 1.50pt; padding-bottom: 1.50pt; padding-left: 1.50pt"&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 12pt"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;font size="4" color="#000000" face="Verdana"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Verdana; color: #000000; font-style: italic"&gt;I can't piss out of it,&amp;quot; he   replied.&amp;nbsp;The waiting room erupted in laughter. Mess with seniors and   you're&amp;nbsp;gonna lose!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115798388214280152?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115798388214280152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115798388214280152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/09/doctors-waiting-room.html' title='Doctors waiting room'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115633624003176535</id><published>2006-08-23T12:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-08-23T12:30:40.100Z</updated><title type='text'>Little johnny</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;LITTLE JOHNNY WATCHED HIS DADDY'S CAR PASS BY THE SCHOOL PLAYGROUND AND&lt;br /&gt; GO INTO THE WOODS. CURIOUS, HE FOLLOWED THE CAR AND SAW DADDY AND AUNT&lt;br /&gt; JANE IN A PASSIONATE EMBRACE. LITTLE JOHNNY FOUND THIS SO EXCITING THAT&lt;br /&gt; HE COULD NOT CONTAIN HIMSELF AS HE RAN HOME AND STARTED TO TELL HIS&lt;br /&gt; MOTHER.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; "MOMMY, I WAS AT THE PLAYGROUND AND I SAW DADDY'S CAR GO INTO THE WOODS&lt;br /&gt; WITH AUNT JANE. I WENT BACK TO LOOK AND HE WAS GIVING AUNT JANE A BIG&lt;br /&gt; KISS, THEN HE HELPED HER TAKE OFF HER SHIRT. THEN AUNT JANE HELPED DADDY&lt;br /&gt; TAKE HIS PANTS OFF, THEN AUNT JANE........"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; AT THIS POINT MOMMY CUT HIM OFF AND SAID, "JOHNNY, THIS IS SUCH AN&lt;br /&gt; INTERESTING STORY, SUPPOSE YOU SAVE THE REST OF IT FOR SUPPER TIME. I&lt;br /&gt; WANT TO SEE THE LOOK ON DADDY'S FACE WHEN YOU TELL IT TONIGHT."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; AT THE DINNER TABLE, MOMMY ASKED LITTLE JOHNNY TO TELL HIS STORY. JOHNNY&lt;br /&gt; STARTED HIS STORY, "I WAS AT THE PLAYGROUND AND I SAW DADDY'S CAR GO&lt;br /&gt; INTO THE WOODS WITH AUNT JANE. I WENT BACK TO LOOK AND HE WAS GIVING&lt;br /&gt; AUNT JANE A BIG KISS, THEN HE HELPED HER TAKE OFF HER SHIRT.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; THEN AUNT JANE HELPED DADDY TAKE HIS PANTS OFF, THEN AUNT JANE AND DADDY&lt;br /&gt; STARTED DOING THE SAME THING THAT MOMMY AND UNCLE BILL USED TO DO WHEN&lt;br /&gt; DADDY WAS IN THE ARMY."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; MOMMY FAINTED!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; MORAL: SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO THE WHOLE STORY BEFORE&lt;br /&gt; YOU INTERRUPT.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115633624003176535?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115633624003176535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115633624003176535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/little-johnny.html' title='Little johnny'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115435140130452764</id><published>2006-07-31T13:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-07-31T13:10:01.356Z</updated><title type='text'>Old but still good</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;A woman was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected: 2 litres&lt;br /&gt; of low fat milk a carton of eggs 2 litres of orange juice a head of lettuce&lt;br /&gt; half a dozen tomatoes a 500g jar of coffee a 250g pack of bacon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; As she was unloading her items on the conveyor belt to check out, A drunk&lt;br /&gt; standing behind her watched as she placed the items in front of the cashier.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; While the cashier was ringing up her purchases, the drunk calmly stated "You&lt;br /&gt; must be single." The woman was a bit startled by this proclamation, but she&lt;br /&gt; was intrigued by The derelict's intuition, since she was indeed single.&lt;br /&gt; She looked at her six items on the belt and saw nothing Particularly unusual&lt;br /&gt; about her selections that could have tipped off the drunk to her marital&lt;br /&gt; status.&lt;br /&gt; Curiosity getting the better of her, she said, "Well, you know what,&lt;br /&gt;you're absolutely correct. But how on earth did you know that?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; The drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115435140130452764?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115435140130452764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115435140130452764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/07/old-but-still-good.html' title='Old but still good'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115252848263177340</id><published>2006-07-10T10:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-07-10T10:48:02.713Z</updated><title type='text'>Recruiting Cannibals</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; A large hospital recently hired several cannibals as it couldn't find&lt;br /&gt; enough British staff. "You are all part of our team now", said the HR&lt;br /&gt; manager during the welcoming briefing. "You get all the usual benefits and&lt;br /&gt; you can go to the canteen on the Ground Floor for something to eat, but&lt;br /&gt; please don't eat any of our other employees".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; The cannibals promised they would not. Four weeks later their boss&lt;br /&gt; remarked, "You're all working very hard and I'm satisfied with your&lt;br /&gt; work. However, one of our secretaries has disappeared.. Do any of you&lt;br /&gt; know what happened to her?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; The cannibals all shook their heads "No".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; After the boss had left, the leader of the cannibals said to the others,&lt;br /&gt; "Which one of you idiots ate the secretary ?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; A hand rose hesitantly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; "You fool!", the leader continued, "For four weeks we've been eating&lt;br /&gt; managers and no one noticed anything. But, NOOOooo, you had to go and&lt;br /&gt; eat someone who actually does something."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115252848263177340?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115252848263177340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115252848263177340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/07/recruiting-cannibals.html' title='Recruiting Cannibals'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115192463211040820</id><published>2006-07-03T11:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-07-03T11:03:52.156Z</updated><title type='text'>How men differ from women</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div lang="EN-GB" link="#0000ff" vlink="#800080"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" style="width: 100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100%" style="width: 100%; padding-top: 1.50pt; padding-right: 1.50pt; padding-bottom: 1.50pt; padding-left: 1.50pt"&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;NICKNAMES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* If Laura, Kate and Sarah go out for lunch, they   will call each other&amp;nbsp;Laura, Kate and Sarah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* If Mike, Dave and John go out, they will   affectionately refer to each&amp;nbsp;other as Fat Boy, Godzilla and Four-eyes.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;EATING OUT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* When the bill arrives, Mike, Dave&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp; John   will each throw in £20, even&amp;nbsp;though it's only for £32.50. None of them   will have anything smaller&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;&amp;nbsp;none will actually admit they want   change back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* When the girls get their bill, out come the pocket   calculators.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;MONEY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A man will pay £2 for a £1 item he needs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A woman will pay £1 for a £2 item that she doesn't   need but it's on sale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;BATHROOMS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;* A man has six items in his bathroom: toothbrush   and toothpaste, shaving&amp;nbsp;cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a towel from   M&amp;amp;S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;* The average number of items in the typical woman's   bathroom is 337. A&amp;nbsp;man would not be able to identify more than 20 of   these items.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;ARGUMENTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A woman has the last word in any argument. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* Anything a man says after that is the beginning of   a new argument.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;CATS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* Women love cats. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* Men say they love cats, but when women aren't   looking, men kick cats.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;FUTURE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;* A woman worries about the future until she gets a   husband.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A man never worries about the future until he gets   a wife. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;SUCCESS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A successful man is one who makes more money than   his wife can spend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;* A successful woman is one who can find such a man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;MARRIAGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A woman marries a man expecting he will change,   but he doesn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A man marries a woman expecting that she won't   change, but she does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;DRESSING UP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the   plants, empty the bins,&amp;nbsp;answer the phone, read a book, and get the post. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;NATURAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* Women somehow deteriorate during the night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;OFFSPRING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* Ah, children. A woman knows all about her   children. She knows about&amp;nbsp;dentist appointments and romances, best   friends, favourite foods, secret&amp;nbsp;fears and hopes and dreams. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* A man is vaguely aware of some short people living   in the house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;THOUGHT FOR THE DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* Any married man should forget his mistakes.   There's no use in two people&amp;nbsp;remembering the same thing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* What a woman says: C'mon...This place is a mess.   You and I need to&amp;nbsp; clean.Your trousers are on the floor and you'll have   no clothes if we&amp;nbsp;don't do the laundry now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;* What a man hears: C'MON ... blah, blah, blah YOU   AND I blah,blah, blah,&amp;nbsp;blah, blah ON THE FLOOR blah, blah, blah, NO   CLOTHES blah, blah, blah,&amp;nbsp;blah, NOW &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2" face="Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115192463211040820?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115192463211040820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115192463211040820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/07/how-men-differ-from-women.html' title='How men differ from women'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115148461316583899</id><published>2006-06-28T08:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-28T08:50:13.200Z</updated><title type='text'>silly</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Living Wills..........be careful in their use&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;While I was watching the world cup, my wife and I got&lt;br /&gt;into a conversation about life and death, and the need for living wills.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;During the course of the conversation I told her that I never wanted to&lt;br /&gt;exist in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine, and taking fluids&lt;br /&gt;from a bottle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;She got up, unplugged the TV and threw out all my beer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Sometimes it's tough being married to a smartass.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115148461316583899?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115148461316583899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115148461316583899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/06/silly.html' title='silly'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-115070902480853419</id><published>2006-06-19T09:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-19T09:23:44.873Z</updated><title type='text'>Interesting</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;1. In the 1400's a law was set forth that a man was not allowed to  beat&lt;br /&gt; his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb. Hence we have  "the rule&lt;br /&gt; of thumb".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 2. Many years ago in Scotland, a new game was invented. It was ruled&lt;br /&gt; "Gentlemen Only...Ladies Forbidden"...and thus the word GOLF  entered into&lt;br /&gt; the English language.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 3. The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time TV  were Fred&lt;br /&gt; and Wilma Flintstone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 4. Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the US Treasury.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 5. Men can read smaller print than women; women can hear better.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 6. Coca-Cola was originally green.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 7. It is impossible to lick your elbow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 8. The average number of people airborne over the US any given hour:&lt;br /&gt; 61,000.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 9. Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 10. The first novel ever written on a typewriter: Tom Sawyer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 11. Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from&lt;br /&gt; history:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;      Spades - King David&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;       Hearts - Charlemagne&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;       Clubs -Alexander, the Great&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;        Diamonds - Julius Caesar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 12. 111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 13. If a statue in the park of a person on a horse has both front  legs in&lt;br /&gt; the air, the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg  in the&lt;br /&gt; air the person died as a result of wounds received in battle. If  the horse&lt;br /&gt; has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 14. If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go  until&lt;br /&gt; you would find the letter "A"?......One thousand.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 15. What do bulletproof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers,  and laser&lt;br /&gt; printers all have in common?......All invented by women.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 16. What is the only food that doesn't spoil?......Honey.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 17. In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured on bed frames  by ropes.&lt;br /&gt; When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the  bed firmer&lt;br /&gt; to sleep on. Hence the phrase........."goodnight, sleep tight."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 18. It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that  for a&lt;br /&gt; month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son- in-law&lt;br /&gt; with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer and because  their&lt;br /&gt; calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month,  which we&lt;br /&gt; know today as the honeymoon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 19. In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So in old&lt;br /&gt; England, when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at  them "Mind&lt;br /&gt; your pints and quarts, and settle down." It's where we get the phrase&lt;br /&gt; "mind your P's and Q's."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; 20. Many years ago in England, pub frequenters had a whistle baked  into&lt;br /&gt; the rim, or handle, of their ceramic cups. When they needed a  refill, they&lt;br /&gt; used the whistle to get some service. "Wet your whistle" is the  phrase&lt;br /&gt; inspired by this practice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; Don't delete this just because it looks weird. Believe it or not,  you can&lt;br /&gt; read it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was  rdgnieg. The&lt;br /&gt; phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid aoccdrnig to rscheearch at  Cmabrigde&lt;br /&gt; Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod  are, the&lt;br /&gt; olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the  rghit&lt;br /&gt; pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it  wouthit a&lt;br /&gt; porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by&lt;br /&gt; istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-115070902480853419?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115070902480853419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/115070902480853419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/06/interesting.html' title='Interesting'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114977715193729830</id><published>2006-06-08T14:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-08T14:32:32.033Z</updated><title type='text'>Anagrams anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Someone out there either has too much spare time or is deadly at Scrabble.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  DORMITORY:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  DIRTY ROOM&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  PRESBYTERIAN:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  BEST IN PRAYER&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  ASTRONOMER:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  MOON STARER&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  DESPERATION:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  A ROPE ENDS IT&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  THE EYES:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  THEY SEE&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  GEORGE BUSH:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  HE BUGS GORE&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  THE MORSE CODE:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  HERE COME DOTS&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  SLOT MACHINES:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  CASH LOST IN ME&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  ANIMOSITY:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  IS NO AMI TY&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  ELECTION RESULTS:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  LIES - LET'S RECOUNT&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  SNOOZE ALARMS:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  ALAS! NO MORE Z 'S&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  A DECIMAL POINT:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  IM A DOT IN PLACE&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  THE EARTHQUAKES:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  THAT QUEER SHAKE&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  ELEVEN PLUS TWO:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  TWELVE PLUS ONE&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  AND FOR THE GRAND FINALE:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  MOTHER-IN-LAW:&lt;br /&gt;  When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;  WOMAN HITLER&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;  Yep! Someone with waaaaaaaaaaay&lt;br /&gt;  too much time on their hands! (Probably a son-in-law)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114977715193729830?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114977715193729830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114977715193729830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/06/anagrams-anyone.html' title='Anagrams anyone?'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114968856557041234</id><published>2006-06-07T13:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-07T13:56:05.626Z</updated><title type='text'>Talking Dog!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;A guy sees a sign in front of a house in Luton: "Talking Dog for Sale."&lt;br /&gt; He rings the bell and the owner tells him the dog is in the backyard.&lt;br /&gt; The guy goes into the backyard and sees a black mutt just sitting there.&lt;br /&gt; "You talk?" he asks. "Sure do." the dog replies. "So, what's your story?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The dog looks up and says, "Well, I discovered my gift of talking pretty&lt;br /&gt; young and I wanted to help the government, so I told the MI5 about my&lt;br /&gt; gift, and in no time they had me jetting from country to country,&lt;br /&gt; sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a&lt;br /&gt; dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable spies eight&lt;br /&gt; years running."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;"The jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any&lt;br /&gt; younger and I wanted to settle down.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;So I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security&lt;br /&gt; work, mostly wandering near suspicious characters and listening in." "I&lt;br /&gt; uncovered some incredible dealings there and was awarded a batch of&lt;br /&gt; medals. Had a wife, a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for&lt;br /&gt; the dog.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The owner says, "Ten quid."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The guy says, "This dog is amazing. Why on earth are you selling him so&lt;br /&gt; cheap?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;"'Cos he's a f****ng liar. He's never done any of that stuff"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114968856557041234?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114968856557041234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114968856557041234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/06/talking-dog.html' title='Talking Dog!'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114770966571137899</id><published>2006-05-15T16:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-15T16:14:26.136Z</updated><title type='text'>oops</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;An elderly couple was attending church services.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;About halfway through she leans over and says, "he he - I just did a&lt;br /&gt;silent fart"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;He replies, "Put a new battery in your hearing aid."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114770966571137899?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114770966571137899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114770966571137899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/05/oops.html' title='oops'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114735769587246183</id><published>2006-05-11T14:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-05-11T14:28:15.926Z</updated><title type='text'>Two Jags?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; Q - What does John Prescott have in common with Ikea flat-pack furniture?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; A - One screw in the wrong place and the whole cabinet falls apart!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114735769587246183?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114735769587246183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114735769587246183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/05/two-jags.html' title='Two Jags?'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114622706073761341</id><published>2006-04-28T12:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-28T12:24:20.790Z</updated><title type='text'>Drinking buddies</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;An Englishman, an Aussie and a South African are in a bar one night, having&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;a beer. All of a sudden the South African downs his beer, throws his glass&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;in the air, pulls out a gun and shoots the glass to pieces and says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;"In Sath Efrika our glasses are so cheap that we don't need to&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;drink from the same one twice."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The Aussie, obviously impressed by this, drinks his beer, throws his&lt;br /&gt;glass into the air, pulls out his gun and shoots the glass to&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;pieces and says:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;"Well mate, in Straaaaailia we have so much sand to make the&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;glasses that we don't need to drink out of the same glass twice either.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The Englishman, cool as a cucumber, picks up his beer and drinks it,&lt;br /&gt;throws his glass into the air, pulls out his gun, shoots the South&lt;br /&gt;African and the Australian and then says: "In London we have so many&lt;br /&gt;bloody South Africans&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;and Australians that we don't need to drink with the same ones twice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114622706073761341?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114622706073761341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114622706073761341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/drinking-buddies.html' title='Drinking buddies'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114597116300367358</id><published>2006-04-25T13:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-25T13:19:23.060Z</updated><title type='text'>A man in a hot air balloon realised he was lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; He reduced altitude and spotted a woman below.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; He descended a bit more and shouted, "Excuse me, can you help me? I&lt;br /&gt;promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don't know where&lt;br /&gt;I am."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; The woman below replied, "You're in a hot air balloon hovering&lt;br /&gt; approximately 30 feet above the ground. You're between 40 and 41&lt;br /&gt;degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; "You must be in Information Technology," said the balloonist.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; "I am," replied the woman, "How did you know?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; "Well," answered the balloonist, "everything you told me is,&lt;br /&gt;technically correct, but I've no idea what to make of your&lt;br /&gt;information, and the fact is I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been&lt;br /&gt;much help at all. If anything, you've delayed my trip."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; The woman below responded, "You must be in Management."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; "I am," replied the balloonist, "but how did you know?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt; "Well," said the woman, "you don't know where you are or where you're&lt;br /&gt;going. You have risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot&lt;br /&gt;air. You made a promise, which you've no idea how to keep, and you&lt;br /&gt;expect people beneath you to solve your problems. The fact is you are&lt;br /&gt;in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now,&lt;br /&gt;somehow, it's my fault."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114597116300367358?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114597116300367358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114597116300367358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/man-in-hot-air-balloon-realised-he-was.html' title='A man in a hot air balloon realised he was lost'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114563803330962736</id><published>2006-04-21T16:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-21T16:47:13.370Z</updated><title type='text'>And people say I drive fast!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;On an August morning in 1978, French filmmaker Claude Lelouch mounted&lt;br /&gt;a gyro-stabilized camera to the bumper of a  Ferrari 275 GTB and had a&lt;br /&gt;friend, a professional Formula 1 racer, drive at breakneck speed&lt;br /&gt;through the heart of Paris. The film was limited for technical reasons&lt;br /&gt;to 10 minutes; the course was from Porte Dauphine, through the Louvre,&lt;br /&gt;to the Basilica of Sacre Coeur.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;No streets were closed, for Lelouch was unable to obtain a permit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The driver completed the course in about 9 minutes, reaching nearly&lt;br /&gt;140 MPH in some stretches. The footage reveals him running real red&lt;br /&gt;lights, nearly hitting real pedestrians, and driving the wrong way up&lt;br /&gt;real one-way streets.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Upon showing the film in public for the first time, Lelouch was&lt;br /&gt;arrested. He has never revealed the identity of the driver, and the&lt;br /&gt;film went underground until a DVD release a few years ago.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Heres the link - What a lunatic&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=2851488008488190547&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114563803330962736?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114563803330962736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114563803330962736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-people-say-i-drive-fast.html' title='And people say I drive fast!'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114537375486228408</id><published>2006-04-18T15:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-18T15:22:34.906Z</updated><title type='text'>Speeding Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;An older lady gets pulled over for speeding...&lt;br /&gt;Older Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer: Ma'am, you were speeding.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: Oh, I see.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer: Can I see your license please?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: I'd give it to you but I don't have one.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer: Don't have one?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: Lost it, 4 years ago for drunk driving.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer: I see...Can I see your vehicle registration papers please.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: I can't do that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer: Why not?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: I stole this car.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer: Stole it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer: You what?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his car and&lt;br /&gt;calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A&lt;br /&gt;senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn gun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer 2: Ma'am, could you step out of your vehicle please! The woman&lt;br /&gt;steps out of her vehicle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older woman: Is there a problem sir?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car&lt;br /&gt;and murdered the owner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: Murdered the owner?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer 2: Is this your car, ma'am?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers. The officer is&lt;br /&gt;quite stunned.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands&lt;br /&gt;it to the officer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;The officer examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Officer 2: Thank you ma'am, one of my officers told me you didn't have&lt;br /&gt;a license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked&lt;br /&gt;up the owner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Older Woman: Bet the liar told you I was speeding, too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114537375486228408?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114537375486228408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114537375486228408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/speeding-joke.html' title='Speeding Joke'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114537037851632904</id><published>2006-04-18T14:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-18T14:26:18.560Z</updated><title type='text'>Truly Amazing Juggling video</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This is pretty damn incredible&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4776181634656145640&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114537037851632904?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114537037851632904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114537037851632904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/truly-amazing-juggling-video.html' title='Truly Amazing Juggling video'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114536355994126194</id><published>2006-04-18T12:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-18T12:32:39.990Z</updated><title type='text'>9 months later..........</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Jack decided to go skiing with his buddy, Bob. They loaded up Jack's&lt;br /&gt;minivan and headed north. After driving for a few hours, they got&lt;br /&gt;caught in a terrible blizzard. They pulled into a nearby farm and asked&lt;br /&gt;the attractive lady who answered the door if they could spend the night.&lt;br /&gt;"I realize it's terrible weather out there and I have this huge house&lt;br /&gt;all to myself, but I'm recently widowed," she explained. "I'm afraid&lt;br /&gt;the   neighbours will talk if I let you stay in my house."&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry," Jack said. "We'll be happy to sleep in the barn. And if&lt;br /&gt;the weather breaks, we'll be gone at first light."&lt;br /&gt;The lady agreed, and the two men found their way to the barn and&lt;br /&gt;settled in for the night.&lt;br /&gt;Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way. They&lt;br /&gt;enjoyed a great weekend of skiing.&lt;br /&gt;About nine months later, Jack got an unexpected letter from an&lt;br /&gt;attorney.&lt;br /&gt;It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined&lt;br /&gt;that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow he had met on&lt;br /&gt;the ski weekend.&lt;br /&gt;He dropped in on his friend Bob and asked, "Bob, do you remember that&lt;br /&gt;good-looking widow from the farm we stayed at on our ski holiday up&lt;br /&gt;North?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I do."&lt;br /&gt;"Did you happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the&lt;br /&gt;house and sh*g her?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," Bob said, a little embarrassed about being found out. "I have to&lt;br /&gt;admit that I did."&lt;br /&gt;"And did you happen to use my name instead of telling her your name?"&lt;br /&gt;Bob's face turned red and he said, "Yeah, sorry,buddy. I'm afraid I&lt;br /&gt;did.  Why do you ask?"&lt;br /&gt;"She just died and left me everything."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;(And you thought this was going to be a predictable ending, didn't&lt;br /&gt; you?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114536355994126194?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114536355994126194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114536355994126194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/9-months-later.html' title='9 months later..........'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114492571528615033</id><published>2006-04-13T10:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-13T10:55:15.293Z</updated><title type='text'>Stella Awards (again no doubt)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;I think this will definitely have done the rounds before - but - in&lt;br /&gt;case you've not seen it&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;THE STELLA AWARDS&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Forget the Oscars, Baftas, Naftas and all that lot, The Stella Awards are&lt;br /&gt;more fun. They were named after 81 year old Stella Liebeck who spilled&lt;br /&gt;coffee on herself and successfully sued McDonald's. That case inspired the&lt;br /&gt;'Stella Awards' for the most frivolous but successful lawsuits in the United&lt;br /&gt;States.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;THIS YEAR'S AWARDS GO TO:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;5th Place (Tied)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas was awarded $780,000 by a jury of her&lt;br /&gt;peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running&lt;br /&gt;inside a furniture store. The owners of the store were understandably&lt;br /&gt;surprised at the verdict, considering the misbehaving toddler was Ms.&lt;br /&gt;Robertson's son.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;5th Place (Tied)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;19-year-old Carl Truman of Los Angeles won $74,000 and medical expenses&lt;br /&gt;when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Mr. Truman&lt;br /&gt;apparently did not notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when&lt;br /&gt;he was trying to steal the hubcaps.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;5th Place (Tied)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania was leaving a house he had just&lt;br /&gt;finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the garage&lt;br /&gt;door to go up since the automatic door opener was malfunctioning. He&lt;br /&gt;could not reenter the house because the door connecting the house and&lt;br /&gt;garage locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation and Mr.&lt;br /&gt;Dickson found himself locked in the garage for 8 days. He subsisted on a&lt;br /&gt;case of Pepsi he found and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the&lt;br /&gt;homeowner's insurance claiming the situation caused him undue mental&lt;br /&gt;anguish The Jury agreed to the tune of $500,000.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;4th Place&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas was awarded $14,500 and medical&lt;br /&gt;expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next-door neighbor's&lt;br /&gt;Beagle dog The Beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. The&lt;br /&gt;award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been&lt;br /&gt;a little provoked at the time as Mr. Williams, who had climbed over the&lt;br /&gt;fence into the yard, was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;3rd Place&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;A Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of Lancaster,&lt;br /&gt;Pennsylvania $113,500 after she slipped on a soft drink and broke her&lt;br /&gt;coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms. Carson had&lt;br /&gt;thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier, during an argument.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;2nd Place&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware sued the owner of a Night Club in a&lt;br /&gt;neighboring city when she fell from the bathroom window to the floor and&lt;br /&gt;knocked out two of her front teeth. This occurred while Ms. Walton was&lt;br /&gt;trying to sneak in the window of the Ladies Room to avoid paying the&lt;br /&gt;$3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;And the winner is:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;This year's runaway winner was Mr. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma City,&lt;br /&gt;Oklahoma. Mr. Grazinski purchased a brand new Winnebago Motor home. On&lt;br /&gt;his trip home from an OU football game, having driven onto the freeway,&lt;br /&gt;he set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the driver's seat to&lt;br /&gt;go into the back and make himself a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly the&lt;br /&gt;RV left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mr. Grazinski sued Winnebago&lt;br /&gt;for not advising him in the owner's manual that he could not actually do&lt;br /&gt;this. The jury awarded him $1,750,000 plus a new Winnebago Motor home.&lt;br /&gt;The company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit just&lt;br /&gt;in case there were any other complete morons buying their recreational&lt;br /&gt;vehicles.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114492571528615033?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114492571528615033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114492571528615033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/stella-awards-again-no-doubt.html' title='Stella Awards (again no doubt)'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114492558881653431</id><published>2006-04-13T10:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-13T10:53:08.816Z</updated><title type='text'>Bill Gates and GM</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Bill gates told General motors that if they had followed his example,&lt;br /&gt;they       would by now be producing $25 cars that did 1000 mpg.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;In a press release they replied that if they had,&lt;br /&gt;their cars would crash twice a day,&lt;br /&gt;their controls would function differently on each journey,&lt;br /&gt;in an accident the air bag would ask "are you sure",&lt;br /&gt;and one would have to press "START" in order to stop!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114492558881653431?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114492558881653431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114492558881653431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/bill-gates-and-gm.html' title='Bill Gates and GM'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114492544938708443</id><published>2006-04-13T10:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-13T10:50:49.420Z</updated><title type='text'>Only In America</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;These are from a book called Disorder in the American Courts,and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now&amp;nbsp;published by court reporters who had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="direction: ltr;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font color="black" face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: black;"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;  &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Are you sexually active?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No, I just lie there.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ___________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What is your date of birth?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; July 18th.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What year?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Every year.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Gucci sweats and Reeboks.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WTNES:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yes.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And in what ways does it affect your memory?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I forget.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How old is your son, the one living with you?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember which.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How long has he lived with you?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Forty-five years.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What was the first thing your husband said to you that&amp;nbsp;morning?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He said, &amp;quot;Where am I, Cathy?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And why did that upset you?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My name is Susan.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We both do.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Voodoo?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We do.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; You do?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yes, voodoo.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ______________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Did you actually pass the bar exam?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ___________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Were you present when your picture was taken?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Would you repeat the question?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yes.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And what were you doing at that time?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Uh....&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She had three children, right?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yes.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How many were boys?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; None.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Were there any girls?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ___________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How was your first marriage terminated?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; By death.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And by whose death was it terminated?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ______________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Can you describe the individual?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He was about medium height and had a beard.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Was this a male or a female?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ______________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a&amp;nbsp;deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No, this is how I dress when I go to work.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ______________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; All my autopsies are performed on dead people.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Oral.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ______________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Do you recall the time that you examined the body?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy on him!&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Are you qualified to give a urine sample?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Huh?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _____________________________________&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Did you check for blood pressure?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Did you check for breathing?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How can you be so sure, Doctor?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ATTORNEY:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; But could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WITNESS:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font color="black" face="Times New Roman" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;      &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114492544938708443?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114492544938708443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114492544938708443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/only-in-america.html' title='Only In America'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-114487700983807772</id><published>2006-04-12T21:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-12T21:23:29.896Z</updated><title type='text'>Joke I heard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Since the announcement about Bootcamp and WinXP on mac, I heard this&lt;br /&gt;joke that tickled me a little.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Whats the difference between OS X and Windows Vista...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Microsoft employees are excited about OS X.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-114487700983807772?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114487700983807772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/114487700983807772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2006/04/joke-i-heard.html' title='Joke I heard'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-111115229887691326</id><published>2005-03-18T13:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-03-18T13:24:58.876Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Read this at b3ta.com and found it funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Never complain to soap writers&lt;br /&gt;    "I love the UK police soap The Bill: but when&lt;br /&gt;    they introduced a new WPC, Honey Harmon, I was&lt;br /&gt;    so disgusted with her lack of acting ability&lt;br /&gt;    that I emailed the producers to ask who she&lt;br /&gt;    had shagged to get the role. No response.&lt;br /&gt;    Then about a couple of months later there&lt;br /&gt;    was a panning shot across the office taking&lt;br /&gt;    in the white boards in the background: There&lt;br /&gt;    was my name in big black letters with a ring&lt;br /&gt;    around it in for a child sexual assault case!&lt;br /&gt;    The bastards!" (Catchag)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-111115229887691326?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/111115229887691326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/111115229887691326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2005/03/read-this-at-b3ta.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-111114745866489198</id><published>2005-03-18T12:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-03-18T13:26:13.330Z</updated><title type='text'>Message from www.dating.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Your Advert has been running for 3 weeks on www.dating.com and has received&lt;br /&gt;no responses as yet.  would you like us to remove your photograph for 1&lt;br /&gt;week?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-111114745866489198?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/111114745866489198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/111114745866489198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2005/03/message-from-wwwdatingcom.html' title='Message from www.dating.com'/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-111107859619669897</id><published>2005-03-17T16:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-03-17T16:56:36.196Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sorry it's been so long since last post - couldn't be arsed! Only joking, my humour sources on the interweb appeared to have dried up.  I suppose I will have to actively find some through my own means!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is one for starters...... In response to Ellen MacArthur's recent circumnavigation in a boat sponsores and named B&amp;Q (DIY homestore), this is a copy of an e-mail received by B&amp;Q customer services: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir/Madam &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My congratulations to you on getting a yacht to leave the UK on 28th November 2004, sail 27,354 miles around the world and arrive back 72 days later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could you please let me know when the kitchen I ordered 96 days ago will be arriving from your warehouse 13 miles away? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours Sincerely &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Roberts&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-111107859619669897?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/111107859619669897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=111107859619669897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/111107859619669897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/111107859619669897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2005/03/sorry-its-been-so-long-since-last-post_17.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-109532327235554905</id><published>2004-09-16T08:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-09-16T08:27:52.356Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A highly successful Human Resources Manager was tragically knocked down by a bus and killed. Her soul arrived at the Pearly Gates, where St. Peter welcomed her: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Before you get settled in," he said, "We have a little problem... you see, we've never had a Human Resources Manager make it this far before and we're not really sure what to do with you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I see," said the woman. "Can't you just let me in?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'd like to," said St Peter, "But I have higher orders. We're instructed to let you have a day in hell and a day in heaven, and then you are to choose where you'd like to go for all eternity." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually, I think I'd prefer heaven", said the woman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, we have rules..." at which St. Peter put the HR Manager into the downward bound elevator. As the doors opened in hell she stepped out onto a beautiful golf course. In the distance was a country club; around her were many friends past fellow executives, all smartly dressed, happy, and cheering for her. They ran up and kissed her on both cheeks and they talked about old times. They played a perfect round of golf and afterwards went to the country club where she enjoyed a superb steak and lobster dinner. She met the Devil, who was actually rather nice, and she had a wonderful night telling jokes and dancing. Before she knew it, it was time to leave; everyone shook her hand and waved goodbye as she stepped into the &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;elevator. The elevator went back up to heaven where St. Peter was waiting for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now it's time to spend a day in heaven," he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she spent the next 24 hours lounging around on clouds and playing the harp and singing, which was almost as enjoyable as her day in hell. At the day's end St Peter returned.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So," he said, "You've spent a day in hell and you've spent a day in heaven. You must choose between the two." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman thought for a second and replied, "Well, heaven is certainly lovely, but I actually had a better time in hell. I choose hell." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accordingly, St. Peter took her to the elevator again and she went back down to hell. When the doors of the elevator opened she found herself standing in a desolate wasteland covered in garbage and filth. She saw her friends dressed in rags, picking up rubbish and putting it in old sacks. The Devil approached and put his arm around her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't understand," stuttered the HR Manager, "Yesterday I was here, and there was a golf course, and a country club, and we ate lobster, and we danced and had a wonderful happy time. Now all there's just a dirty wasteland of garbage and all my friends look miserable."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Devil looked at her and smiled. "Yesterday we were recruiting you, today you're staff." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-109532327235554905?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/109532327235554905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=109532327235554905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/109532327235554905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/109532327235554905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/09/highly-successful-human-resources.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-109224233569872362</id><published>2004-08-11T16:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-08-11T16:38:55.696Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>THINGS YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE TO BE A REPUBLICAN TODAY:&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him, a bad guy when Bush's daddy made &lt;br /&gt;war on him, a good guy when Cheney did business with him and a bad guy when &lt;br /&gt;Bush needed a "we can't find Bin Laden" diversion.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Trade with Cuba is wrong because the country is communist, but trade with &lt;br /&gt;China and Vietnam is vital to a spirit of international harmony.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;A woman can't be trusted with decisions about her own body, but &lt;br /&gt;multi-national corporations can make decisions affecting all mankind without regulation.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Jesus loves you, and shares your hatred of homosexuals and Hillary Clinton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best way to improve military morale is to praise the troops in speeches &lt;br /&gt;while slashing veterans' benefits and combat pay.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;If condoms are kept out of schools, adolescents won't have sex.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy. Providing health care to &lt;br /&gt;all Americans is socialism.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;HMOs and insurance companies have the best interests of the public at heart.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Global warming and tobacco's link to cancer are junk science, but creationism &lt;br /&gt;should be taught in schools.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;A president lying about an extramarital affair is an impeachable offense.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;A president lying to enlist support for a war in which thousands die is solid &lt;br /&gt;defense policy.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution, which &lt;br /&gt;include banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;The public has a right to know about Hillary's cattle trades, but George &lt;br /&gt;Bush's cocaine conviction is none of our business.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime, unless you're a &lt;br /&gt;conservative radio host. Then it's an illness, and you need our prayers for your &lt;br /&gt;recovery.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;You support states' rights, which means Attorney General John Ashcroft can &lt;br /&gt;tell states what local voter initiatives they have the right to adopt.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;What Bill Clinton did in the 1960s is of vital national interest, but what &lt;br /&gt;Bush did in the '80s is irrelevant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-109224233569872362?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/109224233569872362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=109224233569872362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/109224233569872362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/109224233569872362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/08/things-you-have-to-believe-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108990339292831025</id><published>2004-07-15T14:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-07-15T14:56:32.926Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Keep this philosophy in mind the next time you either hear or are about&lt;br /&gt;to repeat a rumour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his&lt;br /&gt;wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance who ran up to him&lt;br /&gt;excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of&lt;br /&gt;your students?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me I'd like you to pass&lt;br /&gt;a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Triple filter?" asked the acquaintance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's right," Socrates continued. "Before you talk to me about my student&lt;br /&gt;let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say. The first filter&lt;br /&gt;is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me&lt;br /&gt;is true?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not.&lt;br /&gt;Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are&lt;br /&gt;about to tell me about my student something good?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, on the contrary ...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him,&lt;br /&gt;even though you're not certain it's true?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;Socrates continued." You may still pass the test though, because there is a&lt;br /&gt;third filter - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about&lt;br /&gt;my student going to be useful to me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, not really..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True&lt;br /&gt;nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man was defeated and ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high&lt;br /&gt;esteem.&lt;br /&gt;It also explains why he never found out that Plato was shagging his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108990339292831025?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108990339292831025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108990339292831025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108990339292831025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108990339292831025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/07/keep-this-philosophy-in-mind-next-time.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108962073484679049</id><published>2004-07-12T08:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-07-12T08:25:34.846Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HA HA HA - I've never heard this before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is the transcript of an ACTUAL radio conversation in October 1995, between a US Navy ship off the coast of England, and the British authorities.&lt;br /&gt;The transcript was released by the MoD on 10/10/95.&lt;br /&gt;BRITS: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the South, to avoid a collision.&lt;br /&gt;AMERICANS: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the North, to avoid a collision.&lt;br /&gt;BRITS: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.&lt;br /&gt;AMERICANS: This is the Captain of US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.&lt;br /&gt;BRITS: Negative. I say again. You will have to divert your course.&lt;br /&gt;AMERICANS: THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER USS LINCOLN AND THE SECOND LARGEST SHIP IN THE UNITED STATES' ATLANTIC FLEET. WE ARE ACCOMPANIED BY THREE DESTROYERS, THREE CRUISERS, AND NUMEROUS SUPPORT VESSELS. I DEMAND THAT &lt;br /&gt;YOU CHANGE YOUR COURSE 15 DEGREES NORTH. THAT'S 15 DEGREES NORTH, OR &lt;br /&gt;COUNTER MEASURES WILL BE UNDERTAKEN TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THIS SHIP. ??? ??.. ??.. ??. ??. ??. ??. ??.&lt;br /&gt;BRITS: We are a lighthouse. F*ck off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108962073484679049?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108962073484679049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108962073484679049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108962073484679049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108962073484679049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/07/ha-ha-ha-ive-never-heard-this-before.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108869728402494860</id><published>2004-07-01T15:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-07-01T15:54:44.023Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Several men are in the locker room of a golf club... A cell phone on a bench&lt;br /&gt;rings and a man engages the hands-free speaker function and begins to&lt;br /&gt;talk...&lt;br /&gt;Everyone else in the room stops to listen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Hello"...&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "Honey, it's me. Are you at the club...?"&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Yes"...&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "I am at the mall now and found this beautiful leather coat...It's&lt;br /&gt;only $1,000... Is it OK if I buy it...?"&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Sure ... go ahead if you like it that much"...&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the new 2004&lt;br /&gt;models... I saw one I really liked"...&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "How much...?"&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "$60,000"...&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "OK, but for that price I want it with all the options"...&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "Great...! Oh, and one more thing.... the house we wanted last year&lt;br /&gt;is back&lt;br /&gt;on the market... They're asking $950,000"...&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer, but just offer&lt;br /&gt;$900,000"...&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN: "OK. I'll see you later... ! I love you...!"&lt;br /&gt;MAN: "Bye, I love you, too".! ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man hangs up... The other men in the locker room are looking at him in&lt;br /&gt;astonishment... Then he asks: "Anyone know who this phone belongs to...?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108869728402494860?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108869728402494860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108869728402494860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108869728402494860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108869728402494860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/07/several-men-are-in-locker-room-of-golf.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108868611647753931</id><published>2004-07-01T12:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-07-01T12:48:36.476Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man was walking down the street when he was approached by a particularly&lt;br /&gt;dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked him for a couple of dollars&lt;br /&gt;for dinner. The man took out his wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked,&lt;br /&gt;"If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, I had to stop drinking years ago," the homeless  man replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Will you use it to gamble instead of buying food?" the man asked.&lt;br /&gt;"No,  I don't gamble," the homeless man said. "I need everything I can get&lt;br /&gt;just to stay alive."&lt;br /&gt;"Will you spend it on greens fees at a golf course instead of food?" the man&lt;br /&gt;asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Are you NUTS!" replied the homeless man. "I haven't played golf in 20&lt;br /&gt;years!"&lt;br /&gt;"Will you spend the money on a woman in the red light district instead of&lt;br /&gt;food?" the man asked.&lt;br /&gt;"What disease would I get for ten lousy bucks?" exclaimed the homeless man.&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said the man, "I'm not going to give you the money. Instead, I'm&lt;br /&gt;going to take&lt;br /&gt;you home for a Terrific dinner cooked by my wife."&lt;br /&gt;The homeless man was astounded. "Won't your wife be furious with you for&lt;br /&gt;doing that?" I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replied, "That's okay. I just want her to see what a man looks like&lt;br /&gt;who's given up beer, gambling, golf, and sex".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108868611647753931?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108868611647753931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108868611647753931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108868611647753931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108868611647753931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/07/man-was-walking-down-street-when-he.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108867780350309836</id><published>2004-07-01T10:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-07-01T10:30:03.503Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For everyone who has ever had an evaluation - just remember, it could have&lt;br /&gt;been worse. These are actual quotes taken from employee performance&lt;br /&gt;evaluations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. "Since my last report, this employee has reached rock-bottom and has&lt;br /&gt;started to dig."&lt;br /&gt;2. "I would not allow this employee to breed."&lt;br /&gt;3. "This employee is really not so much of a has-been, but more of a&lt;br /&gt;definite won't be."&lt;br /&gt;4. "Works well when under constant supervision and cornered like a rat in a&lt;br /&gt;trap."&lt;br /&gt;5. "When she opens her mouth, it seems that it is only to change feet."&lt;br /&gt;6. "This young lady has delusions of adequacy."&lt;br /&gt;7. "He sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve&lt;br /&gt;them."&lt;br /&gt;8. "This employee is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot."&lt;br /&gt;9. "This employee should go far, and the sooner he starts, the better."&lt;br /&gt;10. "Got a full 6-pack, but lacks the plastic thingy to hold it altogether."&lt;br /&gt;11. "A gross ignoramus -- 144 times worse than an ordinary ignoramus."&lt;br /&gt;12. "He doesn't have ulcers, but he's a carrier."&lt;br /&gt;13. "I would like to go hunting with him sometime."&lt;br /&gt;14. "He's been working with glue too much."&lt;br /&gt;15. "He would argue with a signpost."&lt;br /&gt;16. "He brings a lot of joy whenever he leaves the room."&lt;br /&gt;17. "When his IQ reaches 50, he should sell."&lt;br /&gt;18. "If you see two people talking and one looks bored, he's the other one."&lt;br /&gt;19. "A photographic memory but with the lens cover glued on."&lt;br /&gt;20. "A prime candidate for natural de-selection."&lt;br /&gt;21. "Donated his brain to science before he was done using it."&lt;br /&gt;22. "Gates are down, the lights are flashing, but the train isn't coming."&lt;br /&gt;23. "He's got two brains cells, one is lost and the other is out looking for&lt;br /&gt;it."&lt;br /&gt;24. "If he were any more stupid, he'd have to be watered twice a week."&lt;br /&gt;25. "If you give him a penny for his thoughts, you'd get change."&lt;br /&gt;26. "If you stand close enough to him, you can hear the ocean."&lt;br /&gt;27. "It's hard to believe he beat out 1,000,000 other sperm."&lt;br /&gt;28. "One neuron short of a synapse."&lt;br /&gt;29. "Some drink from the fountain of knowledge; he only gargled."&lt;br /&gt;30. "Takes him 2 hours to watch '60-minutes'."&lt;br /&gt;31. "The wheel is turning, but the hamster is dead."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108867780350309836?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108867780350309836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108867780350309836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108867780350309836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108867780350309836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/07/for-everyone-who-has-ever-had.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108860139798713924</id><published>2004-06-30T13:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-06-30T13:17:49.843Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Essential NEW WORDS FOR 2004 editions for the work-place vocabulary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TESTICULATING Waving your arms around and talking Bollocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLAMESTORMING. Sitting around in a group, discussing why a deadline was&lt;br /&gt;missed or a project failed, and who was responsible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEAGULL MANAGER. A manager who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on&lt;br /&gt;everything, and then leaves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ASSMOSIS. The process by which people seem to&lt;br /&gt;absorb success and advancement by sucking up to the boss rather than working&lt;br /&gt;hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SALMON DAY. The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only&lt;br /&gt;to get screwed and die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUBE FARM. An office filled with cubicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRAIRIE DOGGING. When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube&lt;br /&gt;farm, and people's heads pop up over the walls to see that's going on. (This&lt;br /&gt;also applies to applause from a promotion because there may be cake.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOUSE POTATO. The on-line, wired generation's answer to the couch potato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SITCOMs. Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. What yuppies turn&lt;br /&gt;into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with&lt;br /&gt;the kids or start a "home business".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STRESS PUPPY. A person who seems to thrive on being stressed out and whiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XEROX SUBSIDY. Euphemism for swiping free photocopies from one's workplace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE. The fine art of whacking the crap out of an&lt;br /&gt;electronic device to get it to work again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ADMINISPHERE. The rarefied organisational layers beginning just above the&lt;br /&gt;rank and file.Decisions that fall from the "adminisphere" are often&lt;br /&gt;profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to&lt;br /&gt;solve. This is often affiliated with the dreaded "administrivia" needless&lt;br /&gt;paperwork and processes. 404. Someone who's clueless. From the World Wide&lt;br /&gt;Web error message "404 Not Found," meaning that the requested document could&lt;br /&gt;not be located.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OHNOSECOND That minuscule fraction of time in which you realise that you've&lt;br /&gt;just made a BIG mistake (e.g. you've hit 'reply all')&lt;br /&gt;WOOFies. Well Off Older Folk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CROP DUSTING Surreptitiously farting while passing through a CUBE FARM, then&lt;br /&gt;enjoying the sounds of dismay and disgust; leads to PRAIRIE DOGGING.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108860139798713924?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108860139798713924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108860139798713924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108860139798713924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108860139798713924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/essential-new-words-for-2004-editions.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108850282702958633</id><published>2004-06-29T09:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-06-29T09:53:47.030Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sweet justice...&lt;br /&gt;After 17 years of marriage, a man dumped his wife for his young secretary.&lt;br /&gt;His new girlfriend demanded that she wanted to live in the couple's&lt;br /&gt;multimillion dollar home, and since the man's lawyers were a little better,&lt;br /&gt;he prevailed.&lt;br /&gt;He gave his now ex-wife just 3 days to move out. She spent the first day&lt;br /&gt;packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases. On the second day,&lt;br /&gt;she had the movers come and collect her things. On the third day, she sat&lt;br /&gt;down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candlelight,&lt;br /&gt;put on some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of prawns, a jar&lt;br /&gt;of caviar, and a bottle of Chardonnay. When she had finished, she went into&lt;br /&gt;each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten prawn shells, dipped in&lt;br /&gt;caviar, into the hollow of the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;and left.&lt;br /&gt;When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the&lt;br /&gt;first few days. Then slowly, the house began to smell. They tried&lt;br /&gt;everything; cleaning &amp; mopping and airing the place out. Vents were checked&lt;br /&gt;for dead rodents, and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung&lt;br /&gt;everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during&lt;br /&gt;which they had to move out for a few days, and in the end they even paid to&lt;br /&gt;replace the expensive wool carpeting.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing worked. People stopped coming over to visit... Repairmen refused to&lt;br /&gt;work in the house... The maid quit... Finally, they could not take the&lt;br /&gt;stench any longer and decided to move. A month later, even though they had&lt;br /&gt;cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer for their stinky house.&lt;br /&gt;Word got out, and eventually, even the local realtors refused to return&lt;br /&gt;their calls.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a&lt;br /&gt;new place. The ex-wife called the man, and asked how things were going. He&lt;br /&gt;told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely, and said that&lt;br /&gt;she missed her old home terribly, and would be willing to reduce her divorce&lt;br /&gt;settlement in exchange for getting the house back...&lt;br /&gt;Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was he agreed on a price&lt;br /&gt;that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth... but only if she&lt;br /&gt;were to sign the papers that very day. She agreed, and within the hour, his&lt;br /&gt;lawyers delivered the paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;A week later, the man and his new girlfriend stood smirking as they watched&lt;br /&gt;the moving company pack everything to take to their new home....including&lt;br /&gt;the curtain rods.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108850282702958633?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108850282702958633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108850282702958633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108850282702958633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108850282702958633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/sweet-justice.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108754629766260711</id><published>2004-06-18T08:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-06-18T08:11:37.663Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have probably posted these Peter Kaye lines SO many times before, but I never tire of them....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw six men kicking and punching the mother-in-law. My &lt;br /&gt;neighbour said 'Are you going to help?' I said 'No, Six should be enough." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that look women get when they want sex? &lt;br /&gt;No? &lt;br /&gt;Me neither. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a woman wearing a sweatshirt with 'Guess' on it. I &lt;br /&gt;&gt;said,'Thyroid problem?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bike. &lt;br /&gt;Then I realised that The Lord doesn't work that way, so I&lt;br /&gt;stole one and asked him to forgive me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you heard about the Irishman who reversed into a car boot sale &lt;br /&gt;and sold the engine? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've often wanted to drown my troubles, but I can't get my&lt;br /&gt;wife to go swimming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was doing some decorating, so I got out my step-ladder. I&lt;br /&gt;don't get on with my real ladder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a restaurant that serves 'breakfast at any time'. &lt;br /&gt;So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cement mixer collided with a prison van on the Kingston&lt;br /&gt;By Pass. Motorists are asked to be on the lookout for 16 hardened &lt;br /&gt;criminals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I was bullied at school, called all kinds of different &lt;br /&gt;names. &lt;br /&gt;But one day I turned to my bullies and said - 'Sticks and&lt;br /&gt;stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me', and it worked! &lt;br /&gt;From there on it was sticks and stones all the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Dad used to say 'always fight fire with fire', which is &lt;br /&gt;probably why he  got thrown out of the fire brigade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we aren't supposed to eat animals, then why are they made&lt;br /&gt;out of  meat? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think animal testing is a terrible idea; they get all&lt;br /&gt;nervous and give the wrong answers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Politicians are wonderful people as long as they stay away&lt;br /&gt;from things they don't understand, such as working for a living. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the kid next door's imaginary friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I &lt;br /&gt;think I've forgotten this before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd kill for a Nobel Peace Prize. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a game of Pitch &amp; Toss. Some people are pitchers. You, &lt;br /&gt;unfortunately, are not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108754629766260711?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108754629766260711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108754629766260711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108754629766260711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108754629766260711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-have-probably-posted-these-peter.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108677052272156886</id><published>2004-06-09T08:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-06-09T08:42:02.720Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An Irishman an Englishman and a Scotsman were sitting in a bar in Sydney,&lt;br /&gt;Australia. The view was fantastic, the beer excellent, and the food&lt;br /&gt;exceptional.&lt;br /&gt;"But" said the Scotsman, "I still prefer the pubs back home. Why in Glasgow&lt;br /&gt;there's a little bar called McTavish's. Now the landlord there goes out of&lt;br /&gt;his way for the locals so much that when you buy four drinks he will buy the&lt;br /&gt;5th drink for you."&lt;br /&gt;"Well" said the Englishman, "At my local, the Red Lion, the barman there&lt;br /&gt;will buy you your third drink after you buy the first two."&lt;br /&gt;"Ahhh that's nothin'" said the Irishman. "Back home in Dublin there is&lt;br /&gt;Ryan's Bar. Now the moment you set foot in the place they'll buy you a&lt;br /&gt;drink, then another, all the drinks you like. Then when you've had enough&lt;br /&gt;drinks they'll take you upstairs and see that you get laid. All on the&lt;br /&gt;House."&lt;br /&gt;The Englishman and Scotsman immediately pour scorn on the Irishman's claims.&lt;br /&gt;He swears every word is true.&lt;br /&gt;"Well" said the Englishman "Did this actually happen to you."&lt;br /&gt;"Not myself, personally, no" said the Irishman. "But it did happen to my&lt;br /&gt;sister."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apologies in advance to our Liverpudlian contingent for these two........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of a tiny deserted bar is a huge scouser bloke 6ft 5in tall and&lt;br /&gt;350lbs. He's having a few beers when a short, well dressed and obviously&lt;br /&gt;gay man walks in and sits beside him. After 3 or 4 beers, the gay fella&lt;br /&gt;finally plucks up the courage to say something to the big Liverpudlian.&lt;br /&gt;Leaning&lt;br /&gt;over, he cups his huge ear "Do you want a bl*w job?" he whispers.&lt;br /&gt;At this, the massive Merseysider leaps up with fire in his eyes and smacks&lt;br /&gt;the man in the face. Knocking him off the stool, he proceeds to beat him&lt;br /&gt;all the way out of the bar. Finally he leaves him, badly bruised, in the car&lt;br /&gt;park and returns to his seat as if nothing had happened. Amazed the&lt;br /&gt;bartender quickly brings over another beer. "I've never seen you react like&lt;br /&gt;that" he says "Just what did he say to you?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not sure" the big scouser replies. "Something about a job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A scouser walked into the local job centre, marched straight up to the&lt;br /&gt;counter and said "Hi, I'm looking for a job". The man behind the&lt;br /&gt;counter replied "Your timing is amazing. We've just got a listing from a&lt;br /&gt;very wealthy man who wants a chauffeur/bodyguard for his nymphomaniac twin&lt;br /&gt;daughters. You'll have to drive around in a big black Mercedes, uniform&lt;br /&gt;provided. Because of the long hours of this job meals will also be&lt;br /&gt;provided and you will also be required to escort the young ladies on their&lt;br /&gt;overseas holidays. The salary package is £200,000 a year".&lt;br /&gt;The scouser said "You're bullsh*tting me!"&lt;br /&gt;The man behind the counter said "Well you f****** started it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108677052272156886?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108677052272156886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108677052272156886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108677052272156886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108677052272156886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/06/irishman-englishman-and-scotsman-were.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108489073952469572</id><published>2004-05-18T14:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-05-18T14:32:19.523Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There's this guy standing at a bus stop. He notices that the guy in front of him has a huge orange head. He can't help but ask ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened to your head?" &lt;br /&gt;"Well, I was walking along the street the other day when I found this magic lamp, so I gave it a rub, out pops a genie, grants me three wishes. First off, I wish for a giant pile of cash. Puff of smoke, there it is. Second wish, I wish for a beautiful wife. Another puff of smoke, and there she is." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cool. So what did you wish for with your third wish?" &lt;br /&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;"I wished for a huge orange head!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108489073952469572?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108489073952469572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108489073952469572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108489073952469572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108489073952469572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/05/theres-this-guy-standing-at-bus-stop.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108480148592069159</id><published>2004-05-17T13:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-05-17T13:44:45.920Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An elderly couple go to a sex therapist's office.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor asks, "What can I do for you?"&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "Will you watch us have sexual intercourse?" The doctor raises&lt;br /&gt;both eyebrows, but he is so amazed that such an elderly couple is asking for&lt;br /&gt;sexual advice that he agrees. When the couple finish, the doctor says,&lt;br /&gt;"There's absolutely nothing wrong with the way you have intercourse."&lt;br /&gt;He thanks them for coming, he wishes them good luck, he charges them&lt;br /&gt;and he says goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next week, however, the couple return and ask the sex therapist to watch&lt;br /&gt;again. The sex therapist is a bit puzzled, but agrees. This happens several&lt;br /&gt;weeks in a row. The couple makes an appointment, have intercourse with no&lt;br /&gt;problems, pay the doctor, then leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after 5 or 6 weeks of this routine, the doctor says, "I'm sorry,but&lt;br /&gt;I have to ask. Just what are you trying to find out?" The old man says,"&lt;br /&gt;We're not trying to find out anything. She's married and we can't go to her&lt;br /&gt;house. I'm married and we can't go to my house. The Holiday Inn charges&lt;br /&gt;The Hilton charges. With your help, we do it for £100 and I get it back from&lt;br /&gt;BUPA!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108480148592069159?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108480148592069159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108480148592069159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108480148592069159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108480148592069159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/05/elderly-couple-go-to-sex-therapists.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108453633221014393</id><published>2004-05-14T12:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-05-14T12:06:45.546Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wonder if you can tell this one was forwarded in an e-mail &gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &gt; &gt;Being a bloke is great because.... &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Your arse is never a factor in a job interview. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Your last name stays put. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;The garage is all yours &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Wedding plans take care of themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You never feel compelled to stop a friend from getting laid. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Car mechanics tell you the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You don't give a rat's arse if someone notices your new haircut. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Hot wax never comes near your pubic area. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Wrinkles add character. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;A few well placed one night stands gain credibility, not leave you &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;tarnished. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You don't have to leave the room to make emergency crotch adjustments. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;People never glance at your chest when you're talking to them. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Your pals can be trusted never to trap you with "So, notice anything &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;different?" &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can throw a ball more than 5 feet. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;One mood, ALL the damn time. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can open all your own jars. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Dry cleaners and hairdressers don't rob you blind. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can go to a public toilet without a support group. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can leave a hotel bed unmade. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can kill your own food. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;If someone forgets to invite you to something, he or she can still be&lt;br /&gt;&gt; your &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;friend. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;If you are 30 and single, nobody notices &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Everything on your face stays its original colour. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can quietly enjoy a car ride from the passenger's seat. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You don't have to clean your house if the meter reader is coming. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can sit in silence watching a football game with your mate for&lt;br /&gt;&gt; hours &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;without ever thinking "He must be mad at me." &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can drop by to see a friend without having to bring a little gift. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;If another guy shows up at the party in the same outfit, you just might&lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;become lifelong friends. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You don't have to shave below your neck. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;One wallet and one pair of shoes, one colour, all seasons. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You can "do" your nails with a pocket-knife. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;You have freedom of choice concerning growing a moustache. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;Christmas shopping can be accomplished for 25 relatives, on December&lt;br /&gt;&gt; 24th, &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &gt; &gt;in 45 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108453633221014393?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/feeds/108453633221014393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3497195&amp;postID=108453633221014393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108453633221014393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108453633221014393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-wonder-if-you-can-tell-this-one-was.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108331623559466455</id><published>2004-04-30T09:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-04-30T09:13:42.543Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>SOME CLASSIC VIZ TOP TIPS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If a small child is choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour&lt;br /&gt;a jug of boiling water down its throat and hey presto! The blockage is&lt;br /&gt;almost instantly removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A mousetrap, placed on top on of your alarm clock will prevent you&lt;br /&gt;from going back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting&lt;br /&gt;someone else to hold them while you chop away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Keep the seat next to you on the train vacant by smiling and nodding&lt;br /&gt;at people as they walk up the aisle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Weight watchers. Avoid that devilish temptation to nibble at the&lt;br /&gt;chocolate bar in the cupboard or fridge by not buying the f*****g thing&lt;br /&gt;in the first place, you fat b******s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Save on booze by drinking cold tea instead of whisky. The following&lt;br /&gt;morning you can create the effects of a hangover by drinking a thimble&lt;br /&gt;full of washing up liquid and banging your head repeatedly on the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Make bath times as much fun for kiddies as a visit to the seaside by&lt;br /&gt;pouring a bucket of sand, a bag of salt and a dog turd into the bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Recreate the fun of a visit to a public swimming pool in your own&lt;br /&gt;home by filling the bath with cold water, adding two bottles of bleach,&lt;br /&gt;then urinating into it, before jumping in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Don't buy expensive 'ribbed' condoms, just buy an ordinary one and&lt;br /&gt;slip a handful of frozen peas inside it before you put it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. X-Files fans. Create the effect of being abducted by aliens by&lt;br /&gt;drinking two bottles of vodka. You'll invariably wake up in a strange&lt;br /&gt;place the following morning; having had your memory mysteriously&lt;br /&gt;'erased'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Don't waste money buying expensive binoculars. Simply stand closer&lt;br /&gt;to what you want to look at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Putting just the right amount of gin in your goldfish bowl makes the&lt;br /&gt;fishes' eyes bulge and cause them to swim in an amusing manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Save time when crossing a one-way street by only looking in the&lt;br /&gt;direction of oncoming traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Thicken up runny low-fat yoghurt by stirring in a spoonful of lard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Anorexics, when your knees become fatter than your legs, start&lt;br /&gt;eating cakes again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. A next door neighbour's car aerial, carefully folded, makes an ideal&lt;br /&gt;coat hanger in an emergency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Hijackers. Avoid a long stressful siege and the risk of arrest,&lt;br /&gt;imprisonment or death by simply making sure you book a flight to your&lt;br /&gt;intended destination in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. An empty aluminium cigar tube filled with angry wasps makes an&lt;br /&gt;inexpensive vibrator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Olympic athletes. Disguise the fact that you've taken anabolic&lt;br /&gt;steroids by running a bit slower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Avoid arguments with the missus about lifting the loo seat by simply&lt;br /&gt;p*ssing in the sink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Weedy fellas. Develop a right forearm like Arnold Schwarzeneggar by&lt;br /&gt;buying one of those Cindy Crawford workout videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Vegetarians coming to dinner? Simply serve them a nice bit of steak&lt;br /&gt;or veal. Since they're always going on about how tofu, Quorn, meat&lt;br /&gt;substitute etc 'tastes exactly like the real thing', they won't know any&lt;br /&gt;difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Invited by vegetarians for dinner? Point out that since you'd no&lt;br /&gt;doubt be made aware of their special dietary requirements, tell them&lt;br /&gt;about yours, and ask for a nice steak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Spice up your s*x life by trying a bit of 'rodeo s*x'. Take your&lt;br /&gt;missus from behind and, holding on tightly to her jugs, call her by the&lt;br /&gt;wrong name. See how long you can 'stay mounted' for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Before attempting to remove stubborn stains from a garment always&lt;br /&gt;circle the stain in permanent pen so that when you remove the garment&lt;br /&gt;from the washing machine you can easily locate the area of the stain and&lt;br /&gt;check that it has gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Give comics that 'Pulp Fiction' feel by reading the last frames of&lt;br /&gt;cartoons first, then reading the rest in a random order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. High blood pressure sufferers. Simply cut yourself and bleed for a&lt;br /&gt;while, thus reducing the pressure in your veins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Motorists. Enjoy the freedom of cycling by removing your windscreen,&lt;br /&gt;sticking half a melon skin on you head, then jumping red lights and&lt;br /&gt;driving the wrong way up one way streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Create instant designer stubble by sucking a magnet and dipping your&lt;br /&gt;chin in a bowl of iron fillings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Convince neighbours that you have invented a 'SHRINKING' device by&lt;br /&gt;ruffling your hair, wearing a white laboratory coats and parking a JCB&lt;br /&gt;digger outside your house for a few days. Then dim and flicker the&lt;br /&gt;lights in your house during the night and replace the JCB unseen, with a&lt;br /&gt;Tonka toy of the same description. Watch their faces in the morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Have all your dumps at work. Not only will you save money on toilet&lt;br /&gt;paper, but you'll also be getting paid for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108331623559466455?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108331623559466455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108331623559466455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/04/some-classic-viz-top-tips-1.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108331597600654344</id><published>2004-04-30T09:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-04-30T09:09:23.013Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A list of things you would never know if it weren't for television.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If staying in a haunted house, women should investigate any strange&lt;br /&gt;noises wearing their most revealing underwear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Beds have strange L-shaped top sheets that reach up to armpit level on a&lt;br /&gt;woman but only waist level on the man lying beside her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It's easy for anyone to land a plane, providing there is someone in the&lt;br /&gt;control tower to talk you down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Once applied, lipstick will never rub off - even while scuba diving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The ventilation system of any building is a perfect hiding place. No one&lt;br /&gt;will ever think of looking for you in there and you can travel to any other&lt;br /&gt;part of the building without difficulty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. You're likely to survive any battle in any war unless you make the&lt;br /&gt;mistake of showing someone a picture of your sweetheart back home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be&lt;br /&gt;necessary to speak the language. A German accent will do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window of any building in Paris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. People on TV never finish their drinks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will&lt;br /&gt;wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. When paying for a taxi, never look at your wallet as you take out a note&lt;br /&gt;- just grab one at random and hand it over. It will always be the exact&lt;br /&gt;fare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. If you lose a hand, it will cause the stump of your arm to grow by 15cm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Kitchens don't have light switches. When entering a kitchen at night,&lt;br /&gt;you should open the fridge door and use that light instead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. During all police investigations, it will be necessary to visit a strip&lt;br /&gt;club at least once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Mothers routinely cook eggs, bacon and waffles for their family every&lt;br /&gt;morning, even though the husband and children never have time to eat them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Cars and trucks that crash will almost always burst into flames. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. A single match will be sufficient to light up a room the size of a&lt;br /&gt;football stadium. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. If a killer is lurking in your house, it's easy to find him. Just relax&lt;br /&gt;and run a bath - even if it's the middle of the afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. All single women have a cat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Any person waking from a nightmare will sit bolt upright and pant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Even when driving down a perfectly straight road, it is necessary to&lt;br /&gt;turn the steering wheel vigorously from left to right every few moments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. One man shooting at 20 men has a better chance of killing them all than&lt;br /&gt;20 men firing at one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. If a phone line is broken, communication can be restored by frantically&lt;br /&gt;beating the cradle and saying, "Hello?, Hello?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Most people keep a scrapbook of newspaper cuttings - especially if any&lt;br /&gt;of their family or friends has died in a strange boating accident. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. It does not matter if you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involving&lt;br /&gt;martial arts - your enemies will wait patiently to attack you one by one by&lt;br /&gt;dancing around in a threatening manner until you have knocked out their&lt;br /&gt;predecessor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. During a very emotional confrontation, instead of facing the person you&lt;br /&gt;are speaking to, it is customary to stand behind them and talk to their&lt;br /&gt;back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in your room will&lt;br /&gt;still be clearly visible, just slightly bluish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Dogs always know how to spot villains and will bark at them and no one&lt;br /&gt;else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Police departments give their officers personality tests to make sure&lt;br /&gt;they are deliberately assigned a partner who is their total opposite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. When they are alone, all foreigners somehow prefer to speak English to&lt;br /&gt;each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. If there is a deranged killer on the loose, this will coincide with a&lt;br /&gt;thunderstorm that has brought down all the power and phone lines in the&lt;br /&gt;vicinity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. There's always a chainsaw around when you need one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their&lt;br /&gt;arch-enemies using complicated machinery involving fuses, pulley systems,&lt;br /&gt;deadly gases, lasers and man eating sharks that will allow their captives at&lt;br /&gt;least 20 minutes to escape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. All bombs are fitted with helpful electronic timing devices that have&lt;br /&gt;large red readouts so you know exactly when they're going to go off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. It is always possible to park directly outside the building you are&lt;br /&gt;visiting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Make-up can safely be worn to bed without smudging. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you bump into&lt;br /&gt;will know all the steps.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108331597600654344?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108331597600654344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108331597600654344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/04/list-of-things-you-would-never-know-if.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-108314137486730806</id><published>2004-04-28T08:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-04-28T08:39:19.576Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sorry its been so long since I last posted........so heres some reallllllllly old ones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two fish swim into a concrete wall. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;One turns to the other and says "dam" &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Two peanuts walk into a bar &lt;br /&gt;&gt;One was a salted. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A jump-lead walks into a bar. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;The barman says "I'll serve you, but don't start anything." &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A sandwich walks into a bar. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;The barman says, "Sorry - we don't serve food in here." &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A dyslexic man walks into a bra. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and &lt;br /&gt;&gt;says: "A beer please, and one for the road." &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Two aerials meet on a roof, fall in love get married. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;The ceremony wasn't much, but the reception was brilliant. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Two cannibals are eating a clown. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;One says to the other: "Does this taste funny to you?" &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The green, green grass of home'." That &lt;br /&gt;&gt;sounds like Tom Jones syndrome." "Is it common?" "It's not unusual." &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Two cows standing next to each other in a field, Daisy says to &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Dolly: &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"I was artificially inseminated this morning." &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"I don't believe you," said Dolly. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"It's true, no bull!" &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A guy walks into the psychiatrist wearing only Glad Wrap shorts. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;The shrink says, "Well, I can clearly see you're nuts." &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;One says, "I've lost my electron." &lt;br /&gt;&gt;The other says, "Are you sure?" &lt;br /&gt;&gt;The first replies, "Yes, I'm positive..." &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bullsh#t before. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A man takes his Rottweiler to the vet and says, "My dog's &lt;br /&gt;&gt;cross-eyed, is there anything you can do for him? "Well," says the &lt;br /&gt;&gt;vet, "let's have a look at him". So he picks the dog up and &lt;br /&gt;&gt;examines his eyes, then checks his teeth. Finally, he says "I'm &lt;br /&gt;&gt;going to have to put him down." "What? Because he's cross-eyed?" &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"No, because he's really heavy" &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Apparently 1 in 5 people in the world are Chinese and there are 5 &lt;br /&gt;&gt;people in my family, so it must be one of them. It's either my mum &lt;br /&gt;&gt;or my dad......or maybe my older brother Colin, or my younger &lt;br /&gt;&gt;brother Ho-Cha-Chu, but I'm pretty sure it's Colin. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day but I couldn't &lt;br /&gt;&gt;find any. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;I went to the butchers the other day and I bet him 50 quid that he &lt;br /&gt;&gt;couldn't reach the meat off the top shelf. And he said, "No, the &lt;br /&gt;&gt;steaks are too high." &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;My friend drowned in a bowl of muesli. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;He was pulled in by a strong currant. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********* &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A man walks into doctor's office. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"What seems to be the problem?" asks the doc. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"It's... um... well... I have five penises." replies the man. &lt;br /&gt;&gt;"Blimey!" says the doctor, "How do your trousers fit?" "Like a &lt;br /&gt;&gt;glove." &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt;********** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;What do you call a fish with no eyes? &lt;br /&gt;&gt;A fsh &lt;br /&gt;&gt;******** &lt;br /&gt;&gt;Two fish are in a tank &lt;br /&gt;&gt;One says to the other "I'll man the guns, you drive" &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-108314137486730806?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108314137486730806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/108314137486730806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/04/sorry-its-been-so-long-since-i-last.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107951362051810679</id><published>2004-03-17T08:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-17T08:56:02.763Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An adorable little girl, all blonde curls and blue eyes walks into a pet&lt;br /&gt;shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excuthe me mither, do you keep widdle wabbits?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shopkeeper's heart melts and he gets down on his knees, so that he's on&lt;br /&gt;her level and asks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabbit or&lt;br /&gt;maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She, blushing, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans&lt;br /&gt;forward and says in a quite voice,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't fink my python weally givth a phuck"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107951362051810679?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107951362051810679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107951362051810679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/03/adorable-little-girl-all-blonde-curls.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107893725501725338</id><published>2004-03-10T16:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-10T16:49:50.840Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Men are Happier because........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you expect from such simple creatures?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your last name stays put.&lt;br /&gt;The garage is all yours.&lt;br /&gt;Wedding plans take care of themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate is just another snack.&lt;br /&gt;You can be president.&lt;br /&gt;You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.&lt;br /&gt;You can wear NO T-shirt to a water park.&lt;br /&gt;Car mechanics tell you the truth.&lt;br /&gt;The world is your urinal.&lt;br /&gt;You never have to drive to another petrol station because this one's&lt;br /&gt;just to tricky.&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.&lt;br /&gt;Same work, more pay.&lt;br /&gt;Wrinkles add character.&lt;br /&gt;Wedding dress -- £5000; tux rental -- £100.&lt;br /&gt;People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them.&lt;br /&gt;The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected.&lt;br /&gt;New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.&lt;br /&gt;One mood, ALL the time.&lt;br /&gt;Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.&lt;br /&gt;You know stuff about tanks.&lt;br /&gt;A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.&lt;br /&gt;You can open all your own jars.&lt;br /&gt;You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.&lt;br /&gt;If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.&lt;br /&gt;Your underwear is £8.95 for a three-pack.&lt;br /&gt;Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.&lt;br /&gt;You almost never have strap problems in public.&lt;br /&gt;You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.&lt;br /&gt;Everything on your face stays its original colour.&lt;br /&gt;The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.&lt;br /&gt;You only have to shave your face and neck&lt;br /&gt;You can play with toys all your life.&lt;br /&gt;Your belly usually hides your big hips.&lt;br /&gt;One wallet and one pair of shoes, one colour, all seasons.&lt;br /&gt;You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.&lt;br /&gt;You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife.&lt;br /&gt;You have freedom of choice concerning growing a moustache.&lt;br /&gt;You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives, on December 24, in 45&lt;br /&gt;minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder men are happier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107893725501725338?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107893725501725338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107893725501725338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/03/men-are-happier-because.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107893715744895228</id><published>2004-03-10T16:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-10T16:48:13.296Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>LITTLE BILLY ON ...GETTING OLDER&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Little BILLY was sitting on a park bench munching on one candy bar after&lt;br /&gt;another. After the 6th one, a man on the bench across from him said,&lt;br /&gt;"Son, you know eating all that candy isn't good for you. It will give you&lt;br /&gt;acne, rot your teeth, and make you fat."&lt;br /&gt;Little BILLY replied, "My grandfather lived to be 107 years old."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh?"replied the man. "Did your grandfather eat 6 candy bars at a time?"&lt;br /&gt;"No" replied Little Billy, "he minded his own f*cking business!!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;LITTLE BILLY ON...PHILOSOPHY&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A teacher asks her class, "If there are 5 birds sitting on a fence and&lt;br /&gt;you  shoot one of them, how many will be left?"&lt;br /&gt;She calls on little BILLY.&lt;br /&gt;He replies, "None, they will all fly away with the first gunshot."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher replies, "The correct answer is 4, but I like your thinking."&lt;br /&gt;Then little BILLY says, "I have a question for YOU. There are 3 women&lt;br /&gt;sitting on a bench having ice cream: One is delicately licking the sides&lt;br /&gt;of the triple scoop of ice cream. The second is gobbling down the top and&lt;br /&gt;sucking the cone.&lt;br /&gt;The third is biting off the top of the ice cream. "Which one is married?"&lt;br /&gt;The teacher, blushing a great deal, replies, "Well, I suppose the one&lt;br /&gt;that's gobbled down the top and sucked the cone."&lt;br /&gt;To which Little BILLY replied," The correct answer is 'the one with the&lt;br /&gt;wedding ring on', but I like your thinking."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;LITTLE BILLY ON... MATH:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Little BILLY returns home from school and says he got an F in arithmetic.&lt;br /&gt;"Why?" asks the father."&lt;br /&gt;"The teacher asked, 'How much is 2x3?' I said 6," replied BILLY.&lt;br /&gt;"But that's right!" says his dad.&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but then she asked me, 'How much is 3x2?'"&lt;br /&gt;"What's the f*cking difference? " asks the father.&lt;br /&gt;"That's what I said!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;LITTLE BILLY ON...ENGLISH:&lt;br /&gt;Little BILLY goes to school, and the teacher says, "Today we are going to&lt;br /&gt;learn multi-syllable words, class. Does anybody have an example of a&lt;br /&gt;multi-syllable word?"&lt;br /&gt;BILLY says " Mas-tur-bate."&lt;br /&gt;Miss Rogers smiles and says, "Wow, little BILLY, that's a mouthful."&lt;br /&gt;Little BILLY says, "No, Miss Rogers, you're thinking of a blowjob."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;LITTLE BILLY ON...GRAMMAR:&lt;br /&gt;One day, during lessons on proper grammar, the teacher asked for a show&lt;br /&gt;hands from those who could use the word "beautiful" in the same sentence&lt;br /&gt;twice.&lt;br /&gt;First she called on little Suzie, who responded with, "My father bought&lt;br /&gt;my mother a beautiful dress and she looked beautiful in it."&lt;br /&gt;"Very good, Suzie," replied the teacher. She then called on little&lt;br /&gt;Michael.&lt;br /&gt;"My mummy planned a beautiful banquet and it turned out beautifully."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher responded, "Excellent, Michael!"&lt;br /&gt;Then, she reluctantly called on little BILLY.&lt;br /&gt;"Last night, at the dinner table, my sister told my father that she was&lt;br /&gt;pregnant, and he said "Beautiful, just f*cking beautiful!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107893715744895228?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107893715744895228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107893715744895228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/03/little-billy-on.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107692437334057323</id><published>2004-02-16T09:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-16T09:41:25.983Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A real old classic this one, but always a good one.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After  every flight, Qantas pilots fill out a form called a gripe&lt;br /&gt;sheet, which  conveys to the mechanics problems encountered with&lt;br /&gt;the aircraft during the flight which need repair or correction. The&lt;br /&gt;mechanics read and correct the problem, and then respond in writing&lt;br /&gt;on the lower half of the form what remedial action was taken, and&lt;br /&gt;the pilot reviews the gripe sheets before the next flight. Never&lt;br /&gt;let it be said that ground crews and engineers lack a sense of&lt;br /&gt;humour. Here are some actual logged maintenance complaints and&lt;br /&gt;problems as submitted by Qantas pilots and the solution recorded by&lt;br /&gt;maintenance engineers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Qantas is the only major airline that has never had an&lt;br /&gt;accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( P = The problem logged by the pilot.)&lt;br /&gt;( S = The solution and action taken by the engineers.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Left inside main tyre almost needs replacement.&lt;br /&gt;S: Almost replaced left inside main tyre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.&lt;br /&gt;S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Something loose in cockpit.&lt;br /&gt;S: Something tightened in cockpit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Auto-pilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent.&lt;br /&gt;S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.&lt;br /&gt;S: Evidence removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: DME volume unbelievably loud.&lt;br /&gt;S: DME volume set to more believable level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.&lt;br /&gt;S: That's what they're there for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Suspected crack in windshield.&lt;br /&gt;S: You're right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Number 3 engine missing.&lt;br /&gt;S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Aircraft handles funny.&lt;br /&gt;S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Target radar hums.&lt;br /&gt;S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Mouse in cockpit.&lt;br /&gt;S: Cat installed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget&lt;br /&gt;   pounding with a hammer.&lt;br /&gt;S: Took hammer away from midget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107692437334057323?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107692437334057323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107692437334057323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/02/real-old-classic-this-one-but-always.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107649979699423439</id><published>2004-02-11T11:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-11T11:46:19.903Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bear with me on this.........(Sorry, but it's likely that our stateside friends will not identify with this one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School Football Rules and Regs.	&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Duration &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Matches shall be played over three unequal periods: two playtimes and a&lt;br /&gt; lunchtime. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Each of these periods shall begin shortly after the ringing of a bell, and&lt;br /&gt; although a bell is also rung towards the end of these periods, play may&lt;br /&gt; continue for up to ten minutes afterwards, depending on the nihilism or&lt;br /&gt; "bottle" of the participants with regard to punishment meted out to&lt;br /&gt; latecomers back to the classroom. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; In practice there is a sliding scale of nihilism, from those who hasten to&lt;br /&gt; stand in line as soon as the bell rings, known as "poofs", through those&lt;br /&gt; who will hang on until the time they estimate it takes the teachers to&lt;br /&gt; down the last of their gins and journey from the staffroom, known as&lt;br /&gt; "chancers", and finally to those who will hang on until a teacher actually&lt;br /&gt; has to physically retrieve them, known as "barmpots". &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; This sliding scale is intended to radically alter the logistics of a match&lt;br /&gt; in progress, often having dramatic effects on the scoreline as the number&lt;br /&gt; of remaining participants drops. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; It is important, therefore, in picking the sides, to achieve a fair&lt;br /&gt; balance of poofs, chancers and bampots in order that the scoreline&lt;br /&gt; achieved over a sustained period of play - a lunchtime, for instance - is&lt;br /&gt; not totally nullified by a five-minute post-bell onslaught of five&lt;br /&gt; barmpots against one. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; The scoreline to be carried over from the previous period of the match is&lt;br /&gt; in the trust of the last bampots to leave the field of play, and may be&lt;br /&gt; the matter of some debate. This must be resolved in one of the approved&lt;br /&gt; manners (see Adjudication). &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Parameters &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; The object is to force the ball between two large, unkempt piles of&lt;br /&gt; jackets, in lieu of goalposts. These piles may grow or shrink throughout&lt;br /&gt; the match, depending on the number of participants and the prevailing&lt;br /&gt; weather. As the number of players increases, so shall the piles. Each&lt;br /&gt; jacket added to the pile by a new addition to a side should be placed on&lt;br /&gt; the inside, nearest the goalkeeper, thus reducing the target area. It is&lt;br /&gt; also important that the sleeve of one of the jackets should jut out across&lt;br /&gt; the goalmouth, as it will often be claimed that the ball went "over the&lt;br /&gt; post" and it can henceforth be asserted that the outstretched sleeve&lt;br /&gt; denotes the innermost part of the pile and thus the inside of the post.&lt;br /&gt; The on-going reduction of the size of the goal is the responsibility of&lt;br /&gt; any respectable defence and should be undertaken conscientiously with&lt;br /&gt; resourcefulness and imagination. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; In the absence of a crossbar, the upper limit of the target area is&lt;br /&gt; observed as being slightly above head height, although when the height at&lt;br /&gt; which a ball passed between the jackets is in dispute, judgement shall lie&lt;br /&gt; with an arbitrary adjudicator from one of the sides. He is known as the&lt;br /&gt; "best fighter"; his decision is final and may be enforced with physical&lt;br /&gt; violence if anyone wants to stretch a point. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; There are no pitch markings. Instead, physical objects denote the&lt;br /&gt; boundaries, ranging from the most common - walls and buildings - to roads&lt;br /&gt; or canals. Corners and throw-ins are redundant where bylines or touchlines&lt;br /&gt; are denoted by a two-storey building or a six-foot granite wall. Instead,&lt;br /&gt; a scrum should be instigated to decide possession. This should begin with&lt;br /&gt; the ball trapped between the brickwork and two opposing players, and&lt;br /&gt; should escalate to include as many team members as can get there before&lt;br /&gt; the now egg-shaped ball finally emerges, drunkenly and often with a&lt;br /&gt; dismembered foot and shin attached. At this point, goalkeepers should look&lt;br /&gt; out for the player who takes possession of the escaped ball and begins&lt;br /&gt; bearing down on goal, as most of those involved in the scrum will be&lt;br /&gt; unaware that the ball is no longer amidst their feet. The goalkeeper&lt;br /&gt; should also try not to be distracted by the inevitable fighting that has&lt;br /&gt; by this point broken out. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; In games on large open spaces, the length of the pitch is obviously&lt;br /&gt; denoted by the jacket piles, but the width is a variable. In the absence&lt;br /&gt; of roads, water hazards or a big dog, the width is determined by how far&lt;br /&gt; out the attacking winger has to meander before the pursuing defender gets&lt;br /&gt; fed up and lets him head back towards where the rest of the players are&lt;br /&gt; waiting, often as far as quarter of a mile away. It is often observed that&lt;br /&gt; the playing area is "not a full-size pitch". This can be invoked verbally&lt;br /&gt; to justify placing a wall of players eighteen inches from the ball at&lt;br /&gt; direct free kicks It is the formal response to "yards", which the&lt;br /&gt; kick-taker will incant meaninglessly as he places the ball. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; The Ball &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; There is a variety of types of ball approved for Primary School Football.&lt;br /&gt; I shall describe three notable examples. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 1. The plastic balloon. An extremely lightweight model, used primarily in&lt;br /&gt; the early part of the season and seldom after that due to having burst.&lt;br /&gt; Identifiable by blue pentagonal panelling and the names of that year's&lt;br /&gt; Premier League sides printed all over it. Advantages: low sting factor,&lt;br /&gt; low burst-nose probability, cheap, discourages a long-ball game.&lt;br /&gt; Disadvantages: over-susceptible to influence of the wind, difficult to&lt;br /&gt; control, almost magnetically drawn to flat school roofs whence never to&lt;br /&gt; return. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 2. The rough-finish Mitre. Half football, half Portuguese Man o' War. On&lt;br /&gt; the verge of a ban in the European Court of Human Rights, this model is&lt;br /&gt; not for sale to children. Used exclusively by teachers during gym classes&lt;br /&gt; as a kind of aversion therapy. Made from highly durable fibre-glass,&lt;br /&gt; stuffed with neutron star and coated with dead jellyfish. Advantages:&lt;br /&gt; looks quite grown up, makes for high-scoring matches (keepers won't even&lt;br /&gt; attempt to catch it). Disadvantages: scars or maims anything it touches. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 3. The "Tubey". Genuine leather ball, identifiable by brown all-over&lt;br /&gt; colouring. Was once black and white, before ravages of games on concrete,&lt;br /&gt; but owners can never remember when. Adored by everybody, especially&lt;br /&gt; keepers. Advantages: feels good, easily controlled, makes a satisfying&lt;br /&gt; "whump" noise when you kick it. Disadvantages: turns into medicine ball&lt;br /&gt; when wet, smells like a dead dog. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Offside &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; There is no offside, for two reasons: one, "it's not a full-size pitch",&lt;br /&gt; and two, none of the players actually know what offside is. The lack of an&lt;br /&gt; offside rule gives rise to a unique sub-division of strikers. These&lt;br /&gt; players hang around the opposing goalmouth while play carries on at the&lt;br /&gt; other end, awaiting a long pass forward out of defence which they can help&lt;br /&gt; past the keeper before running the entire length of the pitch with their&lt;br /&gt; arms in the air to greet utterly imaginary adulation. These are known&lt;br /&gt; variously as "poachers", "gloryhunters" and "bastards". These players&lt;br /&gt; display a remarkable degree of self-security, seemingly happy in their own&lt;br /&gt; appraisals of their achievements, and caring little for their team-mates'&lt;br /&gt; failure to appreciate the contribution they have made. They know that it&lt;br /&gt; can be for nothing other than their enviable goal tallies that they are so&lt;br /&gt; bitterly despised. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Adjudication &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; The absence of a referee means that disputes must be resolved between the&lt;br /&gt; opposing teams rather than decided by an arbiter. There are two accepted&lt;br /&gt; ways of doing this. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 1. Compromise. An arrangement is devised that is found acceptable by both&lt;br /&gt; sides. Sway is usually given to an action that is in accordance with the&lt;br /&gt; spirit of competition. For example, in the event of a dispute as to&lt;br /&gt; whether the ball in fact crossed the line, or whether the ball has gone&lt;br /&gt; inside or "over" the post, the attacking side may offer the ultimatum:&lt;br /&gt; "Penalty or goal." It is not recorded whether any side has ever opted for&lt;br /&gt; the latter. It is on occasions that such arrangements or ultimata do not&lt;br /&gt; prove acceptable to both sides that the second adjudicatory method comes&lt;br /&gt; into play. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 2. Fighting. Those up on their ancient Hellenic politics will understand&lt;br /&gt; that the concept we know as "justice" rests in these circumstances with&lt;br /&gt; the hand of the strong. What the winner says, goes, and what the winner&lt;br /&gt; says is just, for who shall dispute him? It is by such noble philosophical&lt;br /&gt; principles that the supreme adjudicator, or Best Fighter, is effectively&lt;br /&gt; elected &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Team Selection &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; To ensure a fair and balanced contest, teams are selected democratically&lt;br /&gt; in a turns-about picking process, with either side beginning as a one-man&lt;br /&gt; selection committee and growing from there. The initial selectors are&lt;br /&gt; usually the recognised two Best Players of the assembled group. Their&lt;br /&gt; first selections will be the two recognised Best Fighters, to ensure a&lt;br /&gt; fair balance in the adjudication process, and to ensure that they don't&lt;br /&gt; have their own performances impaired throughout the match by profusely&lt;br /&gt; bleeding noses. They will then proceed to pick team-mates in a roughly&lt;br /&gt; meritocratic order, selecting on grounds of skill and tactical awareness,&lt;br /&gt; but not forgetting that while there is a sliding scale of players'&lt;br /&gt; ability, there is also a sliding scale of players' brutality and&lt;br /&gt; propensities towards motiveless violence. A selecting captain might baffle&lt;br /&gt; a talented striker by picking the less nimble Big Jezza ahead of him, and&lt;br /&gt; may explain, perhaps in the words of Linden B Johnson upon his retention&lt;br /&gt; of J Edgar Hoover as the head of the FBI, that he'd "rather have him&lt;br /&gt; inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing in". &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Special consideration is also given during the selection process to the&lt;br /&gt; owner of the ball. It is tacitly acknowledged to be "his game", and he&lt;br /&gt; must be shown a degree of politeness for fear that he takes the huff at&lt;br /&gt; being picked late and withdraws his favours. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Another aspect of team selection that may confuse those only familiar with&lt;br /&gt; the game at senior level will be the choice of goalkeepers, who will&lt;br /&gt; inevitably be the last players to be picked. Unlike in the senior game,&lt;br /&gt; where the goalkeeper is often the tallest member of his team, in the&lt;br /&gt; playground, the goalkeeper is usually the smallest. Senior aficionados&lt;br /&gt; must appreciate that playground selectors have a different agenda and are&lt;br /&gt; looking for altogether different properties in a goalkeeper. These can be&lt;br /&gt; listed briefly as: compliance, poor fighting ability, meekness, fear and&lt;br /&gt; anything else that makes it easier for their team-mates to banish the poor&lt;br /&gt; bugger between the sticks while they go off in search of personal glory up&lt;br /&gt; the other end. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Tactics &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Playground football tactics are best explained in terms of team formation.&lt;br /&gt; Whereas senior sides tend to choose - according to circumstance - from&lt;br /&gt; among a number of standard options (eg 4-4-2, 4-3-3, 5-3-2), the&lt;br /&gt; playground side is usually more rigid in sticking to the all-purpose&lt;br /&gt; 1-1-17 formation. This formation is a sturdy basis for the unique style of&lt;br /&gt; play, ball-flow and territorial give-and-take that makes the playground&lt;br /&gt; game such a renowned and strategically engrossing spectacle. Just as the&lt;br /&gt; 5-3-2 formation is sometimes referred to in practice as "Cattenaccio", the&lt;br /&gt; 1-1-17 formation gives rise to a style of play that is best described as&lt;br /&gt; "Nomadic". All but perhaps four of the participants (see also Offside)&lt;br /&gt; migrate en masse from one area of the pitch to another, following the&lt;br /&gt; ball, and it is tactically vital that every last one of them remains&lt;br /&gt; within a ten-yard radius of it at all times. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Stoppages &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Much stoppage time in the senior game is down to injured players requiring&lt;br /&gt; treatment on the field of play. The playground game flows freer having&lt;br /&gt; adopted the refereeing philosophy of "no Post-Mortem, no free-kick", and&lt;br /&gt; play will continue around and even on top of a participant who has fallen&lt;br /&gt; in the course of his endeavours. However, the playground game is&lt;br /&gt; nonetheless subject to other interruptions, and some examples are listed&lt;br /&gt; below. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Ball on school roof or over school wall. The retrieval time itself is&lt;br /&gt; negligible in these cases. The stoppage is most prolonged by the argument&lt;br /&gt; to decide which player must risk life, limb or four of the belt to scale&lt;br /&gt; the drainpipe or negotiate the barbed wire in order to return the ball to&lt;br /&gt; play. Disputes usually arise between the player who actually struck the&lt;br /&gt; ball and any others he claims it may have struck before disappearing into&lt;br /&gt; forbidden territory. In the case of the Best Fighter having been adjudged&lt;br /&gt; responsible for such an incident, a volunteer is often required to go in&lt;br /&gt; his stead or the game may be abandoned, as the Best Fighter is entitled to&lt;br /&gt; observe that A: "You can't make me"; or B: "It's not my ball". &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Stray dog on pitch. &lt;br /&gt; An interruption of unpredictable duration. The dog does not have to make&lt;br /&gt; off with the ball, it merely has to run around barking loudly, snarling&lt;br /&gt; and occasionally drooling or foaming at the mouth. This will ensure a&lt;br /&gt; dramatic reduction in the number of playing staff as 27 of them&lt;br /&gt; simultaneously volunteer to go indoors and inform the teacher of the&lt;br /&gt; threat. The length of the interruption can sometimes be gauged by the&lt;br /&gt; breed of dog. A deranged Irish Setter could take ten minutes to tire&lt;br /&gt; itself of running in circles, for instance, while a Jack Russell may take&lt;br /&gt; up to fifteen minutes to corner and force out through the gates. An&lt;br /&gt; Alsatian means instant abandonment. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Bigger boys steal ball. &lt;br /&gt; A highly irritating interruption, the length of which is determined by the&lt;br /&gt; players' experience in dealing with this sort of thing. The intruders will&lt;br /&gt; seldom actually steal the ball, but will improvise their own kickabout&lt;br /&gt; amongst themselves, occasionally inviting the younger players to attempt&lt;br /&gt; to tackle them. Standing around looking bored and unimpressed usually&lt;br /&gt; results in a quick restart. Shows of frustration and engaging in attempts&lt;br /&gt; to win back the ball can prolong the stoppage indefinitely. Informing the&lt;br /&gt; intruders that one of the players' older brother is "Mad Pat Murphy" or&lt;br /&gt; some other noted local pugilist can also ensure minimum delay. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Menopausal old bag confiscates ball. &lt;br /&gt; More of a threat in the street or local green kickabout than within the&lt;br /&gt; school walls. Sad, blue-rinsed, ill-tempered, Tory-voting cat-owner&lt;br /&gt; transfers her anger about the array of failures that has been her life to&lt;br /&gt; nine-year-olds who have committed the heinous crime of letting their ball&lt;br /&gt; cross her privet Line of Death. Interruption (loss of ball) is predicted&lt;br /&gt; to last "until you learn how to play with it properly", but instruction on&lt;br /&gt; how to achieve this without actually having the bloody thing is not&lt;br /&gt; usually forwarded. Tact is required in these circumstances, even when the&lt;br /&gt; return of the ball seems highly unlikely, as further irritation of woman&lt;br /&gt; may result in the more serious stoppage: &lt;br /&gt; Menopausal old bag calls police. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Celebration. &lt;br /&gt; Goal-scorers are entitled to a maximum run of thirty yards with their&lt;br /&gt; hands in the air, making crowd noises and saluting imaginary packed&lt;br /&gt; terraces. Congratulation by team-mates is in the measure appropriate to&lt;br /&gt; the importance of the goal in view of the current scoreline (for instance,&lt;br /&gt; making it 34-12 does not entitle the player to drop to his knees and make&lt;br /&gt; the sign of the cross), and the extent of the scorer's contribution. A&lt;br /&gt; fabulous solo dismantling of the defence or 25-yard* rocket shot will&lt;br /&gt; elicit applause and back-pats from the entire team and the more&lt;br /&gt; magnanimous of the opponents. However, a tap-in in the midst of a chaotic&lt;br /&gt; scramble will be heralded with the epithet "poachin' bastard" from the&lt;br /&gt; opposing defence amidst mild acknowledgment from team-mates. Applying an&lt;br /&gt; unnecessary final touch when a ball is already rolling into the goal will&lt;br /&gt; elicit a punch on the nose from the original striker. Kneeling down to&lt;br /&gt; head the ball over the line when defence and keeper are already beaten&lt;br /&gt; will elicit a thoroughly deserved kicking. As a footnote, however, it&lt;br /&gt; should be stressed that any goal scored by the Best Fighter will be met&lt;br /&gt; with universal acclaim, even if it falls into any of the latter three&lt;br /&gt; categories. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; *Actually eight yards, but calculated as relative distance because "it's&lt;br /&gt; not a full-size pitch". &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Penalties &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; At senior level, each side often has one appointed penalty-taker, who will&lt;br /&gt; defer to a team-mate in special circumstances, such as his requiring one&lt;br /&gt; more for a hat-trick. The playground side has two appointed&lt;br /&gt; penalty-takers: the Best Player and the Best Fighter. The arrangement is&lt;br /&gt; simple: the Best Player takes the penalties when his side is a retrievable&lt;br /&gt; margin behind, and the Best Fighter at all other times. If the side is&lt;br /&gt; comfortably in front, the ball-owner may be invited to take a penalty. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Goalkeepers are often the subject of temporary substitutions at penalties,&lt;br /&gt; forced to give up their position to the Best Player or Best Fighter, who&lt;br /&gt; recognise the kudos attached to the heroic act of saving one of these&lt;br /&gt; kicks, and are buggered if anyone else is going to steal any of it. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Close Season. &lt;br /&gt; This is known also as the Summer Holidays, which the players usually spend&lt;br /&gt; dabbling briefly in other sports: tennis for a fortnight while Wimbledon&lt;br /&gt; is on the telly; pitch-and-putt for four days during the Open; and cricket&lt;br /&gt; for about an hour and a half until they discover that it really is as&lt;br /&gt; boring to play as it is to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107649979699423439?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107649979699423439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107649979699423439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/02/bear-with-me-on-this.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107571803966174284</id><published>2004-02-02T10:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-02T10:35:38.263Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Very silly......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary had a little skirt &lt;br /&gt;With splits right up the sides&lt;br /&gt;And every time that Mary walked &lt;br /&gt;The boys could see her thighs&lt;br /&gt;Mary had another skirt &lt;br /&gt;Twas split right up the front&lt;br /&gt; ... but she didn't wear that one very often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary had a little lamb &lt;br /&gt;Her father shot it dead&lt;br /&gt;Now it goes to school with her,&lt;br /&gt;Between two chunks of bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet,&lt;br /&gt;Her clothes all tattered and torn &lt;br /&gt;It wasn't the spider that crept beside her, &lt;br /&gt;But Little Boy Blue and his horn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple Simon met a Pieman, going to the fair. &lt;br /&gt;Said Simple Simon to the Pieman, &lt;br /&gt;What have you got there? &lt;br /&gt;Said the Pieman unto Simon, &lt;br /&gt;'Pies, you d#ckhead.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall &lt;br /&gt;Humpty Dumpty had a great fall &lt;br /&gt;All the kings horses and all the kings men, &lt;br /&gt;Said 'F*ck him, he's only an egg.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary had a little lamb &lt;br /&gt;It ran into a pylon &lt;br /&gt;10,000 volts went up its ass &lt;br /&gt;And turned its wool to nylon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Georgie Porgy pudding and pie &lt;br /&gt;Kissed the girls and made them cry &lt;br /&gt;When the boys came out to play &lt;br /&gt;He kissed them too, &lt;br /&gt;'cause he was that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack and Jill Went up the hill &lt;br /&gt;To have some hanky panky &lt;br /&gt;Silly Jill forgot her pill &lt;br /&gt;And now there's little Franky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Mother Hubbard &lt;br /&gt;Went to the cupboard to fetch her poor dog a bone &lt;br /&gt;When she bent over Rover took over &lt;br /&gt;And gave her a bone of his own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Boy Blew. Hey. He needed the money. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107571803966174284?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107571803966174284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107571803966174284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/02/very-silly.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107513257974553381</id><published>2004-01-26T15:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-26T15:57:51.170Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Every year the FBI, is asked to investigate over 36,000 Serious&lt;br /&gt;Crimes including Suspicious Deaths and Homicides. Every year the&lt;br /&gt;Homicide Investigations Unit puts out its Top 12 Homicides of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- Alex Mijtus,36 years old, is killed by his wife, armed with a&lt;br /&gt;20 inch long vibrator. Mrs Mijtus had enough of her husband's&lt;br /&gt;strange sex practices and one night during a prolonged session of fun&lt;br /&gt;she snapped, pushing all 20 inches of the vibrator into Alex's anus until it&lt;br /&gt;ruptured several internal organs and caused severe bleeding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2- Debby Mills-Newbroughton, 99 years old, was killed as she&lt;br /&gt;crossed the road. She was to turn 100 the next day, but crossing the&lt;br /&gt;road with her daughter to go to her own birthday party her wheel chair was&lt;br /&gt;hit by the truck delivering her birthday cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3- Peter Stone, 42 years old, is murdered by his 8 year old&lt;br /&gt;daughter, who he had just sent to her room with no dinner. Young&lt;br /&gt;Samantha Stone felt that if she couldn't have dinner no one should,&lt;br /&gt;and she promptly inserted 72 rat poison tablets into her fathers&lt;br /&gt;coffee as he prepared dinner. The victim took one sip and promptly&lt;br /&gt;collapsed. Samantha Stone was given a suspended sentence as the&lt;br /&gt;judge felt she didn't realise what she was doing, until she tried&lt;br /&gt;to poison her mother using the same method one month later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4- David Danil, 17 years old, was killed by his girl friend after&lt;br /&gt;he attempted to have his way with her. His unwelcome advance was&lt;br /&gt;met with a double-barreled shotgun. Charla's (the girlfriends) father&lt;br /&gt;had given it to her an hour before the date started, just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5- Javier Halos, 27 years old, was killed by his landlord for&lt;br /&gt;failing to pay his rent for 8 years. The landlord, Kirk Weston,&lt;br /&gt;clubbed the victim to death with a toilet seat after he realized&lt;br /&gt;just how long it had been since Mr Halos paid his rent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6- Megan Fry, 44 years old, is killed by 14 state troopers after&lt;br /&gt;she wandered onto a live firing, fake town, simulation. Seeing all the&lt;br /&gt;troopers walking slowly down the street Megan Fry had jumped out in&lt;br /&gt;front of them and yelled Boo!. The troopers, thinking she was a pop up&lt;br /&gt;target, fired 67 shots between them, over 40 of them hitting the&lt;br /&gt;target. She just looked like a very real looking target, one of the&lt;br /&gt;troopers stated in his report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7- Julia Smeeth, 20 years old, was killed by her brother Michael&lt;br /&gt;because she talked on the phone too long, Michael clubbed his sister&lt;br /&gt;to death with a cordless phone, then stabbed her several times with&lt;br /&gt;the broken aerial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8- Helena Simms, Wife to the famous American nuclear scientist&lt;br /&gt;Harold Simms was killed by her husband after she had an affair with the&lt;br /&gt;neighbour. Over a period of 3 months Harold substituted Helena's eye&lt;br /&gt;shadow with a Uranium composite that was highly radioactive, until&lt;br /&gt;she died of radiation poisoning. Although she suffered many symptoms,&lt;br /&gt;including total hair loss, welts, blindness, extreme nausea and even had&lt;br /&gt;an ear lobe drop off, the victim never attended a doctor's surgery or&lt;br /&gt;hospital for a check up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9- Conrad Middleton, 26 years old, was killed by his twin brother&lt;br /&gt;Brian after a disagreement over who should take the family home&lt;br /&gt;after their parents passed away. Conrad had a nasal problem, and had no&lt;br /&gt;sense of smell. After the argument Brian stormed out of the&lt;br /&gt;house, then snuck back later, and turned on the 3 gas taps in the house,&lt;br /&gt;filling it with gas. He then left out a box of cigars, a lighter and a&lt;br /&gt;note saying, Sorry for the spree, have a puff on me, Brian. Conrad promptly&lt;br /&gt;lit a cigar, destroying the house, and himself in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10- Patty Winter, 35 years old, was killed by her neighbor in the&lt;br /&gt;early hours of a Sunday morning. Her neighbor, Falt Hame, for years&lt;br /&gt;had a mounted F6 phantom jet engine in his rear yard. He would fire&lt;br /&gt;the jet engine, aimed at an empty block at the back of his&lt;br /&gt;property. Patty Winter would constantly complain to the local sheriff's&lt;br /&gt;officers about the noise and the potential risk of fire. Mr Hame was served&lt;br /&gt;with a notice to remove the engine immediately. Not liking this he invited M&lt;br /&gt;iss Winter over for a cup of coffee and a chat about the whole situation.&lt;br /&gt;What Winter didn't know was that he had changed the position of the engine,&lt;br /&gt;as she walked into the yard he activated it, hitting her with a blast of&lt;br /&gt;5,000 degrees, killing her instantly, and forever burning her outline&lt;br /&gt;into the driveway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11- Michael Lewis, angry at his gay boyfriend, used the movie, Die&lt;br /&gt;Hard With a Vengeance as inspiration. He drugged his boyfriend, Tony&lt;br /&gt;Berry, into an almost catatonic state, then dressed him only in a&lt;br /&gt;double sided white board that read Death to all N**g**s! on one side,&lt;br /&gt;and God Loves the KKK. On the other. Lewis then drove the victim to&lt;br /&gt;downtown Harlem and dropped him off. Two minutes later Berry was&lt;br /&gt;deceased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12- Military Sergeant John Joe Winter killed his two timing wife&lt;br /&gt;by loading her car with Trintynitrate explosive (similar to C4).&lt;br /&gt;The Ford Taurus she was driving was filled with 750 kgs of explosive,&lt;br /&gt;forming a force twice as powerful as the Oklahoma Bombing. The&lt;br /&gt;explosion was heard by several persons some up to 14 kilometers&lt;br /&gt;away. No trace of  the car or the victim were ever found, only a 55&lt;br /&gt;meter deep crater, and 500m of missing road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107513257974553381?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107513257974553381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107513257974553381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/every-year-fbi-is-asked-to-investigate.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107491041076621802</id><published>2004-01-24T02:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-24T02:15:00.263Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man in a hot air balloon realized he was lost. He reduced altitude and spotted a woman below. He descended a bit more and shouted, "Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don't know where I am."&lt;br /&gt;The woman below replied, "You're in a hot air balloon hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground. You're between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude."&lt;br /&gt;"You must be in Information Technology," said the balloonist.&lt;br /&gt;"I am," replied the woman, "How did you know?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well," answered the balloonist, "everything you told me is, technically correct, but I've no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help at all. If anything, you've delayed my trip."&lt;br /&gt;The woman below responded, "You must be in Management."&lt;br /&gt;"I am," replied the balloonist, "but how did you know?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said the woman, "you don't know where you are or where you're going. You have risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise, which you've no idea how to keep, and you expect people beneath you to solve your problems. The fact is you are in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now, somehow, it's my fault."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107491041076621802?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107491041076621802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107491041076621802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/man-in-hot-air-balloon-realized-he-was.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107485065432754640</id><published>2004-01-23T09:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-23T09:39:02.733Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Another old one.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a pint of milk,&lt;br /&gt;half a dozen eggs,&lt;br /&gt;a litre of orange juice,&lt;br /&gt;a Pot Noodle,&lt;br /&gt;a 50g jar of coffee,&lt;br /&gt;1/2 lb of bacon,&lt;br /&gt;a bottle of red wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she laid out her shopping at the checkout, the man next in the queue&lt;br /&gt;piped up: "You're single, aren't you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman was a bit startled by this announcement but she was intrigued by&lt;br /&gt;his acumen since she was, indeed, single.&lt;br /&gt;She looked at her shopping and, seeing nothing she deemed particularly&lt;br /&gt;unusual, asked him how he had come to his conclusion.&lt;br /&gt;"Simple," he said, "You're ugly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107485065432754640?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107485065432754640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107485065432754640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/another-old-one.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107477111457419975</id><published>2004-01-22T11:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-22T11:33:22.153Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOING FOR A McSHIT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entering a fast food restaurant with no intention of buying food, you're&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just going to the bog. If challenged by a pimply staff member, your&lt;br /&gt;declaration to them that you'll buy their food afterwards is a Mcshit with&lt;br /&gt;Lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AEROPLANE BLONDE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One who has bleached/dyed her hair but still has a 'black box'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AUSSIE KISS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similar to a French Kiss, but given down under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEER COAT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The invisible but warm coat worn when walking home after a booze cruise&lt;br /&gt;at 3 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEER COMPASS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The invisible device that ensures your safe arrival home after a booze&lt;br /&gt;cruise, even though you're too pissed to remember where you live, how you&lt;br /&gt;got there, and where you've come from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOBFOC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Body Off Baywatch, Face Off Crimewatch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BREAKING THE SEAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your first piss in the pub, usually after 2 hours of drinking. After&lt;br /&gt;breaking the seal of your bladder, repeat visits to the toilet will be&lt;br /&gt;required every 10 or 15 minutes for the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BRITNEY SPEARS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Modern Slang for 'beers', e. g. "Couple of Britneys please, Doreen".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRINK-LINK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A modern term for a cashpoint machine (ATM). Named so because it is&lt;br /&gt;common to visit one before going out on the booze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SSSSSSSSSSHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sound made when driving through too narrow a gap at too high a&lt;br /&gt;speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GREYHOUND&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very short skirt, only an inch from the hare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHNNY-NO-STARS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young man of substandard intelligence, the typical adolescent who&lt;br /&gt;works in a burger restaurant. The 'no-stars' comes from the badges&lt;br /&gt;displaying stars that staff at fast-food restaurants often wear to show&lt;br /&gt;their level of training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MILLENNIUM DOMES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The contents of a Wonderbra, i.e. extremely impressive when viewed from&lt;br /&gt;the outside, but there's actually f*!k-all in there worth seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONKEY BATH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bath so hot, that when lowering yourself in, you go: "Oo! Oo! Oo!&lt;br /&gt;Aa!Aa!Aa!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MYSTERY BUS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus that arrives at the pub on Friday night while you're in the&lt;br /&gt;toilet after your 10th pint, and whisks away all the unattractive people so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the pub is suddenly packed with stunners when you come back in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MYSTERY TAXI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The taxi that arrives at your place on Saturday morning before you wake&lt;br /&gt;up, whisks away the stunner you slept with, and leaves a 10-Pinter in your&lt;br /&gt;bed instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NELSON MANDELA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhyming Slang for 'Stella' (the lager).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PICASSO ARSE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman whose knickers are too small for her, so she looks like she's&lt;br /&gt;got four buttocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWAMP-DONKEY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A deeply unattractive woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TART FUEL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottled Alcopops, e.g. Hooch, regularly consumed by young women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TITANIC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lady who goes down first time out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UP ON BLOCKS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menstruating i.e. out of action, a bit like a car in a garage. e.g. "I&lt;br /&gt;don't think I'll be in luck tonight lads, the missus is up on blocks".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WALLACE AND GROMIT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhyming Slang for 'vomit'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WYNONA RYDER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhyming Slang for 'cider'. e. g. "Pint of Wynona, half a Nelson and a&lt;br /&gt;bottle of tart fuel please Doreen"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107477111457419975?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107477111457419975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107477111457419975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/going-for-mcshit-entering-fast-food.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107459073596508806</id><published>2004-01-20T09:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-20T09:27:01.560Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Are ya havin' a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, then, consider this...............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a hospital's Intensive Care Unit, patients always died in the&lt;br /&gt;same bed, on Sunday morning, at about 11:00 a.m., regardless of&lt;br /&gt;their medical condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This puzzled the doctors and some even thought it had something&lt;br /&gt;to do with the supernatural. No one could solve the mystery as&lt;br /&gt;to why the deaths occurred around 11:00 a.m. on Sunday, so a&lt;br /&gt;worldwide team of experts was assembled to investigate the cause&lt;br /&gt;of the incidents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next Sunday morning, a few minutes before 11:00 a.m., all of&lt;br /&gt;the doctors and nurses nervously waited outside the ward to see&lt;br /&gt;for themselves what the terrible phenomenon was all about. Some&lt;br /&gt;were holding wooden crossses, prayer books, and other holy objects&lt;br /&gt;to ward off the evil spirits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when the clock struck 11:00, Pookie Johnson, the part-time&lt;br /&gt;Sunday sweeper, entered the ward and unplugged the life support&lt;br /&gt;system so he could use the vacuum cleaner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdez&lt;br /&gt;Oil spill in Alaska was $ 80,000.00. At a special ceremony, two&lt;br /&gt;of the most expensively saved animals were being released back&lt;br /&gt;into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minute later, in full view, a killer whale ate them both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still think you are having a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman came home to find her husband in the kitchen shaking&lt;br /&gt;frantically, almost in a dancing frenzy, with some kind of wire&lt;br /&gt;running from his waist towards the electric kettle. Intending to&lt;br /&gt;jolt him away from the deadly current, she whacked him with a&lt;br /&gt;handy plank of wood, breaking his arm in two places. Up to that&lt;br /&gt;moment, he had been happily listening to his Walkman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STILL think you're having a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two animal rights defenders were protesting the cruelty of sending&lt;br /&gt;pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn, Germany. Suddenly, all two&lt;br /&gt;thousand pigs broke loose and escaped through a broken fence,&lt;br /&gt;stampeding madly.&lt;br /&gt;The two helpless protesters were trampled to death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?? STILL having a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iraqi terrorist Khay Rahnajet didn't pay enough postage on a&lt;br /&gt;letter bomb. It came back with "Return to Sender" stamped on it.&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting it was the bomb, he opened it and was blown to bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There now, feeling better????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107459073596508806?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107459073596508806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107459073596508806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/are-ya-havin-bad-day-well-then.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107459028796273491</id><published>2004-01-20T09:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-20T09:19:33.653Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The following are all replies that British women have put on Child&lt;br /&gt;Support Agency forms in the section for listing father's details. These&lt;br /&gt;are genuine excerpts from the forms:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. Regarding the identity of the father of my twins; child A was&lt;br /&gt;fathered by Jim Munson. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of&lt;br /&gt;child B, but I believe that he was conceived on the same night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of my child as I was&lt;br /&gt;being sick out of a window when taken unexpectedly from behind. I can&lt;br /&gt;provide you with a list of names of men that I think were at the party if&lt;br /&gt;this helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03. I do not know the name of the father of my little girl. She was&lt;br /&gt;conceived at a party at 3600 Grand Avenue where I had unprotected sex&lt;br /&gt;with a man I met that night. I do remember that the sex was so good that I&lt;br /&gt;fainted. If you do manage to track down the father can you send me his&lt;br /&gt;phone number? Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04. I don't know the identity of the father of my daughter. He drives&lt;br /&gt;a BMW that now has a hole made by my stiletto in one of the door panels.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps you can contact BMW service stations in this area and see if he's&lt;br /&gt;had it replaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05. I have never had sex with a man. I am awaiting a letter from the&lt;br /&gt;Pope confirming that my son's conception was immaculate and that he is&lt;br /&gt;Christ risen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06. I cannot tell you the name of child A's dad as he informs me that&lt;br /&gt;to do so would blow his cover and that would have cataclysmic&lt;br /&gt;implications for the British economy. I am torn between doing right by you&lt;br /&gt;and right by the country. Please advise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;07. I do not know who the father of my child was as all squaddies look&lt;br /&gt;the same to me. I can confirm that he was a Royal Green Jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08. Peter Smith is the father of child A. If you do catch up with him&lt;br /&gt;can you ask him what he did with my AC/DC CDs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09. &gt;From the dates it seems that my daughter was conceived at Euro&lt;br /&gt;Disney maybe it really is the Magic Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. So much about that night is a blur. The only thing that I&lt;br /&gt;remember for sure is Delia Smith did a program about eggs earlier in the&lt;br /&gt;evening. If I'd have stayed in and watched more TV rather than going to&lt;br /&gt;the party at 146 Miller Drive, mine might have remained unfertilised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of my baby; after all&lt;br /&gt;when you eat a can of beans you can't be sure which one made you fart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107459028796273491?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107459028796273491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107459028796273491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/following-are-all-replies-that-british.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107451411284905523</id><published>2004-01-19T12:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-19T12:09:57.810Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A traffic cop is driving down the motorway when he sees an irish lorry pull&lt;br /&gt;over, &lt;br /&gt;the driver walks to the side of the truck with a tire lever, bangs on the&lt;br /&gt;side of the truck a few times, and then drive away. A couple of miles down&lt;br /&gt;the road the driver does the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;A few more miles, same thing. The copper pulls the lorry over and asks the&lt;br /&gt;driver to explain. The driver says, "Well, the load limit is ten tons, and&lt;br /&gt;I'm carrying fifteen tons of parakeets, so I've got to keep some of them&lt;br /&gt;flying around."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107451411284905523?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107451411284905523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107451411284905523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/traffic-cop-is-driving-down-motorway.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107424711402292580</id><published>2004-01-16T09:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-16T09:59:56.060Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some of Sid Waddell's (Darts Commentator) interesting commentary........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commentary on the World Embassy Darts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's the greatest comeback since Lazarus."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When Alexander of Macedonia was 33, he cried salt tears because there&lt;br /&gt;were no more worlds to conquer. Bristow's only 27."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's the nearest thing to public execution this side of Saudi Arabia."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If we'd had Phil Taylor at Hastings against the Normans, they'd have&lt;br /&gt;gone home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's as cool as a prize marrow!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You couldn't get more excitement here if Elvis Presley walked in&lt;br /&gt;eating a chip sandwich!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's playing out of his pie crust."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He looks about as happy as a penguin in a microwave."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's been burning the midnight oil at both ends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Darts players are probably a lot fitter than most footballers in&lt;br /&gt;overall body strength."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Trying to read Reyes's mind is like trying to read the mind of Jabba&lt;br /&gt;the Hutt"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"These guys look calm but inside they are as nervous as a vampire who&lt;br /&gt;knows there's a sale at the wooden stake shop in the morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That was like watching Popeye when he found his spinach!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's as twitchy as a frog in a blender"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's going like the Loch Ness Monster with a following wind!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Keith Deller is like Long John Silver - he's badly in need of another&lt;br /&gt;leg."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He looks as happy as a scorpion who's just had a pedicure!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eyes like a pterodactyl....with contact lenses"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cliff Lazarenko's jumping up and down like a gorilla saying "Give me&lt;br /&gt;back my banana!""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Bobby George - "He's like a Sherman tank on roller skates coming&lt;br /&gt;down a mountain!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's twitching more than a one legged ferret!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's moving with the purpose of a Panzer Division"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He may practice 12 hours a day, but he's not shy of the burger van!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's like Jack The Ripper on a Friday night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's got one foot in the frying pan and one on thin ice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Rod now looking like Kevin Costner when told the final cost of&lt;br /&gt;Waterworld."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tarantino re-writing Gunfight at the OK Corral couldn't have done any&lt;br /&gt;better than this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's like Dracula getting out of his grave and asking for a few chips&lt;br /&gt;with his stake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That Lad could throw 180 standing one legged in a hammock."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This game of darts is twisting like a rattlesnake with a hernia!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's just like taking a sausage from a boy in a wheelchair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the clash that makes King Kong versus Godzilla look like a&lt;br /&gt;chimpanzees tea party!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That was like throwing three pickled onions into a thimble!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's about as predictable as a wasp on speed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look at the man go, it's like trying to stop a water buffalo with a&lt;br /&gt;pea-shooter!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The atmosphere is so tense, if Elvis walked in ,with a portion of&lt;br /&gt;chips....... you could hear the vinegar sizzle on them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Big Cliff Lazarenko's idea of exercise is sitting in a room with the&lt;br /&gt;windows open taking the lid off something cool and fizzy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look at him as he takes his stance, like he has been sculptured,&lt;br /&gt;whereas Bobby George, with his bad back, looks like the Hunchback of&lt;br /&gt;Notre Dame."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's playing like Robin Hood in the Nottingham Super league."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They've got Shakespeare on Radio 2 but you can't beat this for drama."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's like trying to pin down a kangaroo on a trampoline."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well as giraffes say, you don't get no leaves unless you stick your&lt;br /&gt;neck out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"His eyes are bulging like the belly of a hungry chaffinch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's like giving Dracula the keys to the blood bank."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As they say at the DHSS, we're getting the full benefit here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He is as slick as minestrone soup."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There hasn't been this much excitement since the Romans fed&lt;br /&gt;the christians to the lions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Phil Taylor's got the consistency of a planet ... and he's in a darts&lt;br /&gt;orbit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The atmosphere is a cross between the Munich Beer Festival and the&lt;br /&gt;Coliseum when the christians were on the menu."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jockey Wilson, he comes from the valleys and he's chuffing like a&lt;br /&gt;choo-choo train!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's planting those arrows with the accuracy of a couple&lt;br /&gt;of inter-continental ballistic missiles."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bob Anderson ... looking like Lee van Cleef on a bad night!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Steve Beaton, he's not Adonis, he's THE donis"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The players are under so much duress, it's like duressic park out&lt;br /&gt;there!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's like D'Artagnan at the scissor factory."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This lad has more checkouts than Tescos."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107424711402292580?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107424711402292580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107424711402292580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/some-of-sid-waddells-darts-commentator.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107424694668080610</id><published>2004-01-16T09:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-16T09:57:08.763Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;Here are some facts about the 1500s: Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children-last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water." &lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the dogs, cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying "It's raining cats and dogs." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could really &lt;br /&gt;mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying "dirt poor." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on the floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they kept adding more thresh until when you opened the door it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway. Hence the saying a "thresh hold." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes the stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, "Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man "could bring home the bacon." They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning and death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or "upper crust." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock them out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a "wake." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * * * * &lt;br /&gt;England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a "bone-house" and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they thought they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the "graveyard shift") to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be "saved by the bell" or was considered a "dead ringer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107424694668080610?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107424694668080610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107424694668080610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/next-time-you-are-washing-your-hands.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107417392954109238</id><published>2004-01-15T13:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-15T13:40:57.140Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Very silly.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy walks into a bar with an octopus. He sits the octopus down on a stool and tells everyone in the bar that, "This is a very talented octopus. He can play any musical instrument in the world." &lt;br /&gt;Everyone in the bar laughs at the man, calling him an idiot. So he says that he will wager £500 to anyone who has an instrument that the octopus can't play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A customer walks up with a guitar and sets it beside the octopus.&lt;br /&gt;Immediately the octopus picks up the guitar and starts playing better&lt;br /&gt;than Jimi Hendrix. The guitar owner pays up the £500. Another customer walks up with a trumpet. This time the octopus plays the trumpet better than Miles Davis. The trumpet owner coughs up the £500. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then MacDougal,a Scotsman, plonks some bagpipes on the table. &lt;br /&gt;The octopus fumbles with the bagpipes for a minute and then backs off &lt;br /&gt;with a confused look. "Ha!" the Scot says. "Can ye nae plae it?" The octopus looks up at him and says, "Play it? I'm going to f**k it as soon as I figure out how to get its pyjamas off!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107417392954109238?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107417392954109238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107417392954109238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/very-silly.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107408613930343934</id><published>2004-01-14T13:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-14T13:16:59.280Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why do you need a driver's license to buy liquor when you can't drink and&lt;br /&gt;drive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why isn't phonetic spelled the way it sounds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are there interstate highways in Hawaii?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are there flotation devices under plane seats instead of parachutes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are cigarettes sold in gas stations when smoking is prohibited there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you need a silencer if you are going to shoot a mime?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever imagined a world with no hypothetical situations?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does the guy who drives the snowplow get to work in the mornings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If 7-11 is open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, why are there locks on the&lt;br /&gt;doors?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a cow laughed, would milk come out her nose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If nothing ever sticks to TEFLON, how do they make TEFLON stick to the pan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you tied buttered toast to the back of a cat and dropped it from a&lt;br /&gt;height, what would happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're in a vehicle going the speed of light, what happens when you turn&lt;br /&gt;on the headlights?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how most packages say "Open here". What is the protocol if the&lt;br /&gt;package says, "Open somewhere else"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do they put Braille dots on the keypad of the drive-up ATM?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that when you transport something by car, it's called a shipment,&lt;br /&gt;but when you transport something by ship, it's called cargo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that little indestructible black box that is used on planes, why&lt;br /&gt;can't they make the whole plane out of the same substance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that when you're driving and looking for an address, you turn down&lt;br /&gt;the volume on the radio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107408613930343934?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107408613930343934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107408613930343934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/why-do-you-need-drivers-license-to-buy.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107400101476196431</id><published>2004-01-13T13:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-13T13:38:13.640Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Only in Britain... can a pizza get &lt;br /&gt;to your house faster than an ambulance. &lt;br /&gt;Only in Britain... do supermarkets make sick people walk &lt;br /&gt;all the way to the back of the shop to get their prescriptions while &lt;br /&gt;healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front. &lt;br /&gt;Only in Britain... do people order double cheeseburgers, &lt;br /&gt;large fries, and a DIET coke. &lt;br /&gt;Only in Britain... do banks leave both doors open and chain &lt;br /&gt;the pens to the counters. &lt;br /&gt;Only in Britain... do we leave cars worth thousands of &lt;br /&gt;pounds on the drive and lock our junk and cheap lawn mower in the garage. &lt;br /&gt;Only in Britain... do we use answering machines to screen &lt;br /&gt;calls and then have call waiting so we won't miss a call from someone we &lt;br /&gt;didn't want to talk to in the first place. &lt;br /&gt;Only in Britain... are there disabled parking places in &lt;br /&gt;front of a skating rink. &lt;br /&gt;NOT TO MENTION... &lt;br /&gt;3 Brits die each year testing if a 9v battery works on &lt;br /&gt;their tongue. &lt;br /&gt;142 Brits were injured in 1999 by not removing all pins &lt;br /&gt;from new shirts. &lt;br /&gt;58 Brits are injured each year by using sharp knives &lt;br /&gt;instead of screwdrivers. &lt;br /&gt;31 Brits have died since 1996 by watering their Christmas &lt;br /&gt;tree while the fairy lights were plugged in. &lt;br /&gt;19 Brits have died in the last 3 years believing that &lt;br /&gt;Christmas decorations were chocolate. &lt;br /&gt;British Hospitals reported 4 broken arms last year after &lt;br /&gt;cracker pulling accidents. &lt;br /&gt;101 people since 1999 have had broken parts of plastic toys &lt;br /&gt;pulled out of the soles of their feet &lt;br /&gt;18 Brits had serious burns in 2000 trying on a new jumper &lt;br /&gt;with a lit cigarette in their mouth. &lt;br /&gt;A massive 543 Brits were admitted to A&amp;E in the last two &lt;br /&gt;years after opening bottles of beer with their teeth. &lt;br /&gt;5 Brits were injured last year in accidents involving out &lt;br /&gt;of control Scalextric cars. &lt;br /&gt;And finally......... &lt;br /&gt;In 2000 eight Brits cracked their skull whilst throwing up &lt;br /&gt;into the Toilet............................ &lt;br /&gt;RULE BRITANNIA! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107400101476196431?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107400101476196431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107400101476196431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/only-in-britain.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107366478385277140</id><published>2004-01-09T16:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-09T16:14:19.060Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Apologies to all ladies, the following post is highly sexist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But funny nonetheless.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;How many men does it take to open a beer? &lt;br /&gt;None. It should be opened by the time she brings it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is a Laundromat a really bad place to pick up a woman? &lt;br /&gt;Because a woman who can't even afford a washing machine will never be able to support you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do women have smaller feet than men? &lt;br /&gt;So they can stand closer to the kitchen sink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you know when a woman's about to say something smart? &lt;br /&gt;When she starts her sentence with "A man once told me..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you fix a woman's watch? &lt;br /&gt;You don't. There's a clock on the oven &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do men pass gas more than women? &lt;br /&gt;Because women won't shut up long enough to build up pressure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife is yelling at the front door, who do you let in first? &lt;br /&gt;The dog of course...at least he'll shut up after you let him in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All wives are alike, but they have different faces so you can tell them apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's worse than a Male Chauvinist Pig? &lt;br /&gt;A woman that won't do what she's told. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you call a woman with two brain cells? &lt;br /&gt;Pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I married Miss Right. I just didn't know her first name was Always. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't spoken to my wife for 18 months - I don't like to interrupt her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you call a woman who has lost 95% of her intelligence? &lt;br /&gt;Divorced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bigamy is having one wife too many. &lt;br /&gt;Some say monogamy is the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107366478385277140?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107366478385277140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107366478385277140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2004/01/apologies-to-all-ladies-following-post.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107184694290113113</id><published>2003-12-19T15:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-19T15:16:37.280Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>1) When I die, I want to die like my grandfather-- who died peacefully&lt;br /&gt;in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Advice for the day: If you have a lot of tension and you get a&lt;br /&gt;headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle: "Take two aspirin" and&lt;br /&gt;"Keep away from children"&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) "Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support&lt;br /&gt;group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar."&lt;br /&gt;  --Drew Carey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)"Instead of getting married again, I'm going to find a woman I don't&lt;br /&gt;like and just give her a house,"&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Rod Stewart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)"The problem with the designated driver program, it's not a&lt;br /&gt;desirable job, but if you ever get sucked into doing it, have fun with it.&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the night, drop them off at the wrong house."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Jeff Foxworthy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) "See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and&lt;br /&gt;only enough blood to run one at a time."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Robin Williams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) "If a woman has to choose between catching a fly ball and saving an&lt;br /&gt;infant's life, she will choose to save the infant's life without even&lt;br /&gt;considering if there is a man on base."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Dave Barry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) "What do people mean when they say the computer went down on them?"&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Marilyn Pittman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) "Relationships are hard. It's like a full time job, and we should&lt;br /&gt;treat it like one. If your boyfriend or girlfriend wants to leave you, they&lt;br /&gt;should give you two weeks' notice. There should be severance pay, and&lt;br /&gt;before they leave you, they should have to find you a temp."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Bob Ettinger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) "My Mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in&lt;br /&gt;the lake and threw her off the boat. I said, 'Mom, they weren't trying to&lt;br /&gt;teach you how to swim."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Paula Poundstone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) "A study in the Washington Post says that women have better verbal&lt;br /&gt;skills than men. I just want to say to the authors of that study: "Duh."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Conan O'Brien&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) "Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant?? I'm halfway&lt;br /&gt;through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my God.... I could be eating a&lt;br /&gt;slow learner."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Lynda Montgomery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) "I think that's how Chicago got started. A bunch of people in New&lt;br /&gt;York said, 'Gee, I'm enjoying the crime and the poverty, but it just isn't&lt;br /&gt;cold enough. Let's go west.'"&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Richard Jeni&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) "If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators&lt;br /&gt;would be dead."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Johnny Carson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) "Sometimes I think war is God's way of teaching us geography."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Paul Rodriguez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) "My parents didn't want to move to Florida, but they turned sixty,&lt;br /&gt;and that's the law."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Jerry Seinfeld&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) "Remember in elementary school, you were told that in case of fire&lt;br /&gt;you have to line up quietly in a single file line from smallest to&lt;br /&gt;tallest. What is the logic in that? What, do tall people burn slower?"&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Warren Hutcherson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) "Bigamy is having one wife/husband too many. Monogamy is the same."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Oscar Wilde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) "Suppose you were an idiot . . . And suppose you were a member of&lt;br /&gt;Congress . . . . But I repeat myself."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Mark Twain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) "Our bombs are smarter than the average high school student. At&lt;br /&gt;least they can find Afghanistan!"&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--A . Whitney Brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) "Ah, yes, divorce......., from the Latin word meaning to rip out a&lt;br /&gt;man's genitals through his wallet."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Robin Williams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) "Women complain about premenstrual syndrome, but I think of it as&lt;br /&gt;the only time of the month that I can be myself."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Roseanne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) "Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place."&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Billy Crystal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) "You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you&lt;br /&gt;a look that says, 'My God, you're right! I never would've thought of that!'"&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Dave Barry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) Do you know why they call it "PMS"? Because "Mad Cow Disease" was&lt;br /&gt;taken.&lt;br /&gt;&gt;--Unknown, presumed deceased&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107184694290113113?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107184694290113113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107184694290113113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/12/1-when-i-die-i-want-to-die-like-my.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107166150429795114</id><published>2003-12-17T11:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-17T11:45:56.293Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My Apologies for this one, its old and very bad, but its festive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Russian couple were walking down the street in Moscow one &lt;br /&gt;night when the man felt a drop hit his nose. &lt;br /&gt;"I think it's raining," he said to his wife. &lt;br /&gt;"No, that felt more like snow to me," she replied. &lt;br /&gt;"No, I'm sure it was just rain," he said. &lt;br /&gt;They were just about to begin arguing with each other about &lt;br /&gt;whether it was raining or snowing when they saw a Communist Party official &lt;br /&gt;walking toward them. &lt;br /&gt;"Let's not fight about it," the man said. "Let's ask Comrade &lt;br /&gt;Rudolf whether it's officially raining or snowing." &lt;br /&gt;As the official approached, the man said: "Tell us, Comrade &lt;br /&gt;Rudolf, is it officially raining or snowing?" &lt;br /&gt;"It's raining, of course," he replied, and walked on. &lt;br /&gt;But the woman insisted, "I know that felt like snow!" &lt;br /&gt;To which her husband quietly replied: "Rudolf the Red knows &lt;br /&gt;rain, dear." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107166150429795114?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107166150429795114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107166150429795114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/12/my-apologies-for-this-one-its-old-and.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-107115858340363807</id><published>2003-12-11T16:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-11T16:03:50.030Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This letter, from the (British) Inland Revenue, was just recently&lt;br /&gt;printed in The Guardian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mr Addison,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing to you to express our thanks for your more than prompt&lt;br /&gt;reply to our latest communication, and also to answer some of the&lt;br /&gt;points you raise. I will address them, as ever, in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I must take issue with your description of our last&lt;br /&gt;communication as a "begging letter". It might perhaps more properly&lt;br /&gt;be referred to as a "tax demand". This is how we, at the Inland&lt;br /&gt;Revenue have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred&lt;br /&gt;to such documents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of&lt;br /&gt;crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox&lt;br /&gt;on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst I have naturally&lt;br /&gt;not seen the other letters to which you refer I would cautiously&lt;br /&gt;suggest that their being from "pauper councils, Lombardy pirate&lt;br /&gt;banking houses and puissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your&lt;br /&gt;decision to "file them next to the toilet in case of emergencies" is&lt;br /&gt;at best a little ill-advised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In common with my own organisation, it is unlikely that the senders&lt;br /&gt;of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, come to that,&lt;br /&gt;a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a citizen of Great&lt;br /&gt;Britain, with a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of the&lt;br /&gt;nation as a whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be some spirit of&lt;br /&gt;truth in your assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the&lt;br /&gt;canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a&lt;br /&gt;moment's rudimentary calculation ought to disabuse you of the notion&lt;br /&gt;that the government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole&lt;br /&gt;damned party" yourself. The estimates you provide for the&lt;br /&gt;Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst&lt;br /&gt;colourful, are, in fairness, a little off the mark. Less than you&lt;br /&gt;seem to imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and&lt;br /&gt;"dancing whores" whilst far more than you have accounted for is&lt;br /&gt;allocated to, for example, "that box-ticking facade of a university&lt;br /&gt;system."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of technical points arising from direct queries:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The reason we don't simply write "Muggins" on the envelope has to&lt;br /&gt;do with the vagaries of the postal system;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You can rest assured that "sucking the very marrows of those with&lt;br /&gt;nothing else to give" has never been considered as a practice because&lt;br /&gt;even if the Personal Allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer&lt;br /&gt;medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I trust this has helped. In the meantime, whilst I would not in any&lt;br /&gt;way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, I ought to&lt;br /&gt;point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole foul&lt;br /&gt;jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the&lt;br /&gt;money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please forward it by Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;H J Lee&lt;br /&gt;Customer Relations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-107115858340363807?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107115858340363807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/107115858340363807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/12/this-letter-from-british-inland.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106975055646709497</id><published>2003-11-25T08:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-25T08:56:26.296Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>1. How Do You Catch a Unique Rabbit? Unique Up On It.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. How Do You Catch &gt;a Tame Rabbit? Tame Way, Unique Up On It.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. How Do Crazy People Go Through The Forest? They Take The Psycho Path&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. How Do You Get Holy Water? You Boil The Hell Out Of It.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What Do Fish Say When They Hit a Concrete Wall? Dam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What Do Eskimos Get From Sitting On The Ice too Long? Polaroids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What Do You Call a Boomerang That Doesn't Work? A Stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What Do You Call Cheese That Isn't Yours? Nacho Cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What Do You Call Santa's Helpers? Subordinate Clauses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What Do You Call Four Bullfighters In Quicksand? Quatro Sinko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What Do You Get From a Pampered Cow? Spoiled Milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What Do You Get When You Cross a Snowman With a Vampire? frostbite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. What Lies At The Bottom Of The Ocean And Twitches? A Nervous Wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What's The Difference Between Roast Beef And Pea Soup? Anyone Can Roast&lt;br /&gt;Beef.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Where Do You Find a Dog With No Legs? Right Where You Left Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Why Do Gorillas Have Big Nostrils? Because They Have Big Fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Why Don't Blind People Like To Sky Dive? Because It Scares The Dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What Kind Of Coffee Was Served On The Titanic? Sanka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What Is The Difference Between a Harley And a Hoover? The Location Of&lt;br /&gt;The Dirt Bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Why Did Pilgrims' Pants Always Fall Down? Because They Wore Their Belt&lt;br /&gt;Buckle On Their Hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. What's The Difference Between a Bad Golfer And a Bad Skydiver? A Bad&lt;br /&gt;Golfer Goes Whack, Dang! A Bad Skydiver Goes Dang! Whack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. How Are a Texas Tornado And a Tennessee Divorce the Same? Somebody's&lt;br /&gt;Gonna Lose A Trailer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106975055646709497?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106975055646709497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106975055646709497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/11/1.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106915046806306477</id><published>2003-11-18T10:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-18T10:14:51.560Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Frog Business &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful, well - endowed, young lady named Carol goes to her local &lt;br /&gt;pet store in search of an exotic pet. As she looks about the store, she &lt;br /&gt;notices a box full of frogs. &lt;br /&gt;The sign says: "S e x Frogs! Only $20 each! Money Back Guarantee! &lt;br /&gt;(Comes with complete instructions)." &lt;br /&gt;Carol excitedly looks around to see if anybody's watching her and &lt;br /&gt;whispers softly to the man behind the counter, I'll take one." &lt;br /&gt;Robert packaged the frog and said, "Just follow the instructions carefully." &lt;br /&gt;Carol nods, grabs the box, and is quickly on her way home. &lt;br /&gt;As soon as she closes the door to her apartment, Carol takes out the instructions &lt;br /&gt;and reads them thoroughly, doing exactly what it says to do: &lt;br /&gt; 1. Take a shower. &lt;br /&gt; 2. Splash on some nice smelling perfume. &lt;br /&gt; 3. Slip into a very s e x y teddy. &lt;br /&gt; 4. Crawl into bed and place the frog down on the bed. &lt;br /&gt;She then quickly gets into bed with the frog and, to her surprise, nothing happens! &lt;br /&gt;At this point Carol is totally frustrated and quite upset at this point. &lt;br /&gt;She rereads the instructions and notices at the bottom of the paper it says &lt;br /&gt;"If you have any problems or questions, please call the pet store." &lt;br /&gt;So, Carol calls the pet store. Robert says,"I had some complaints &lt;br /&gt;earlier today. I'll be right over." &lt;br /&gt;Within five minutes, Robert is ringing her doorbell. Carol welcomes him &lt;br /&gt;in and says, "See, I've done everything &lt;br /&gt;according to the instructions and the damn thing just sits there." &lt;br /&gt;Robert, looking very concerned, he picks up the frog, stares directly &lt;br /&gt;into its eyes and sternly says: &lt;br /&gt;"Listen to me! I'm only going to show you how to do this one more time!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106915046806306477?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106915046806306477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106915046806306477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/11/frog-business-beautiful-well-endowed.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106914887203551709</id><published>2003-11-18T09:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-18T09:49:45.153Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>20 Reasons you know you live in 2003;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your reason for not staying in touch with family is because they do &lt;br /&gt;not have e-mail. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;2. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;3. Your grandmother asks you to send her a JPEG file of your newborn &lt;br /&gt;so she can create a screen saver. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;4. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if &lt;br /&gt;anyone is home. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;5. Every commercial on television has a web site address at the bottom &lt;br /&gt;of the screen. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;6. You buy a computer and 3 months later it's out of date and sells &lt;br /&gt;for half the price you paid. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;7. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have &lt;br /&gt;the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic &lt;br /&gt;and you turn around to go get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Using real money, instead of credit or debit, to make a purchase &lt;br /&gt;would be a hassle and take planning. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;9. You just tried to enter your password on the microwave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. You consider second-day air delivery painfully slow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Your dining room table is now your flat filing cabinet. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;12. Your idea of being organized is multiple-coloured Post-it notes. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;13. You hear most of your jokes via e-mail instead of in person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. You get an extra phone line so you can get phone calls. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;15. You disconnect from the Internet and get this awful feeling, as if &lt;br /&gt;you just pulled the plug on a loved one. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;16. You get up in the morning and go online before getting your &lt;br /&gt;coffee. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;17. You wake up at 2 AM to go to the bathroom and check your E-mail on &lt;br /&gt;your way back to bed. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;18. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. ; ) &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;19. You're reading this and nodding and laughing. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;20. Even worse; you know exactly who you are going to forward this &lt;br /&gt;to... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106914887203551709?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106914887203551709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106914887203551709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/11/20-reasons-you-know-you-live-in-2003-1.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106906627107570858</id><published>2003-11-17T10:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-17T10:51:33.920Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's time again to review the newest "Stella" Awards&lt;br /&gt;The Stella's are named after 81-year-old Stella Liebeck who spilled coffee&lt;br /&gt;on herself and successfully sued McDonalds. That case inspired the Stella&lt;br /&gt;awards for the most frivolous successful lawsuits in the United States.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the most recent lawsuit implicating McDonalds -&lt;br /&gt;the teens who allege that eating at McDonalds has made them fat - was filed&lt;br /&gt;after the 2002 award voting was closed. This suit will top the 2003 list&lt;br /&gt;with out question.&lt;br /&gt;Here are this year's winners:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5th Place: Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania, was leaving a house he&lt;br /&gt;had just finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the&lt;br /&gt;garage door to go up since the automatic door opener was malfunctioning. He&lt;br /&gt;couldn't re-enter the house because the door connecting the house and garage&lt;br /&gt;locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation, and Mr.Dickson&lt;br /&gt;found himself locked in the garage for eight days. He subsisted on a case of&lt;br /&gt;Pepsi he found, and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the homeowner's&lt;br /&gt;insurance claiming the situation caused him undue mental anguish. The jury&lt;br /&gt;agreed to the tune of $500,000.&lt;br /&gt;4th Place: Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas, was awarded $14,500 and&lt;br /&gt;medical expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next door&lt;br /&gt;neighbour's beagle. The beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard.&lt;br /&gt;The award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been&lt;br /&gt;just a little provoked at the time by Mr. Williams who had climbed over the&lt;br /&gt;fence into the yard and was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.&lt;br /&gt;3rd Place: A Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of&lt;br /&gt;Lancaster, Pennsylvania, $113,500 after she slipped on a soft drink and&lt;br /&gt;broke her coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms.&lt;br /&gt;Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier during an argument.&lt;br /&gt;2nd Place: Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware, successfully sued the owner of&lt;br /&gt;a night club in a neighbouring city when she fell from the bathroom window&lt;br /&gt;to the floor and knocked out her two front teeth. This occurred while Ms.&lt;br /&gt;Walton was trying to sneak through the window in the ladies room to avoid&lt;br /&gt;paying the $3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses.&lt;br /&gt;And a drum roll for the Winner&lt;br /&gt;1st Place: This year's run away winner was Mr. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma&lt;br /&gt;City, Oklahoma. Mr. Grazinski purchased a brand new 32-foot Winnebago motor&lt;br /&gt;home. On his first trip home, (from an OU football game), having driven onto&lt;br /&gt;the freeway, he set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the drivers&lt;br /&gt;seat to go into the back and make himself a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly,&lt;br /&gt;the R.V. left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mr. Grazinski sued&lt;br /&gt;Winnebago for not advising him in the owner's manual that he couldn't&lt;br /&gt;actually do this. The jury awarded him $1,750,000 plus a new motor home. The&lt;br /&gt;company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit, just in&lt;br /&gt;case there were any other complete morons buying their recreation vehicles.&lt;br /&gt;That's the American Justice System...... Hard at work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106906627107570858?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106906627107570858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106906627107570858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/11/its-time-again-to-review-newest-stella.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106681150379529738</id><published>2003-10-22T08:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-22T08:31:43.486Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some old classic Insurance claim form statements;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to slow down but the traffic was more stationary than I thought."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I pulled into a lay-by with smoke coming from under the bonnet. I realised&lt;br /&gt;the car was on fire so took my dog out and smothered it with a blanket."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Could either driver have done anything to avoid the accident?&lt;br /&gt;A: Travelled by bus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Norwich Union customer collided with a cow. The questions and answers on&lt;br /&gt;the claim form were:&lt;br /&gt;Q - What warning did you give?&lt;br /&gt;A - Horn&lt;br /&gt;Q - What warning was given by the other party?&lt;br /&gt;A - Moo&lt;br /&gt;"I started to turn and it was at this point I noticed a camel and an&lt;br /&gt;elephant tethered at the verge. This distraction caused me to lose&lt;br /&gt;concentration and hit a bollard."&lt;br /&gt;"On approach to the traffic lights the car in front suddenly broke."&lt;br /&gt;"I was going at about 70 or 80 mph when my girlfriend on the pillion&lt;br /&gt;reached over and grabbed my testicles so I lost control."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't think the speed limit applied after midnight"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I knew the dog was possessive about the car but I would not have asked  her&lt;br /&gt;to drive it if I had thought there was any risk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Do you engage in motorcycling, hunting or any other pastimes of a&lt;br /&gt;hazardous nature?&lt;br /&gt;A: I Watch the Lottery Show and listen to Terry Wogan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"First car stopped suddenly, second car hit first car and a haggis ran  into&lt;br /&gt;the rear of second car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Windscreen broken. Cause unknown. Probably Voodoo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The car in front hit the pedestrian but he got up so I hit him again"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I had been driving for 40 years when I fell asleep at the wheel and had an&lt;br /&gt;accident."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law and&lt;br /&gt;headed over the embankment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Coming home, I drove into the wrong house and collided with a tree I don't&lt;br /&gt;have."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The other car collided with mine without giving warning of its  intention."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I thought my window was down, but I found out it wasn't when I put my  head&lt;br /&gt;through it".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I collided with a stationary truck coming the other way".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A truck backed through my windshield into my wife's face".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "A pedestrian hit me and went under my car".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The guy was all over the road. I had to swerve a number of times before I&lt;br /&gt;hit him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In an attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I had been shopping for plants all day and was on my way home. As I&lt;br /&gt;reached an intersection a hedge sprang up obscuring my vision and I did not&lt;br /&gt;see the other car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was on my way to the doctor with rear end trouble when my universal&lt;br /&gt;joint gave way causing me to have an accident."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To avoid hitting the bumper of the car in front I struck the pedestrian."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My car was legally parked as it backed into the other vehicle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car and vanished."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am sure the old fellow would never make it to the other side of the road&lt;br /&gt;when I struck him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The pedestrian had no idea which way to run, so I ran over him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I saw a slow-moving, sad faced old gentleman, as he bounced off the roof of&lt;br /&gt;my car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a&lt;br /&gt;big mouth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was thrown from the car as it left the road. I was later found in a ditch&lt;br /&gt;by some stray cows."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106681150379529738?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106681150379529738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106681150379529738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/some-old-classic-insurance-claim-form.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106672521756236032</id><published>2003-10-21T08:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-21T08:33:37.366Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Can you guess which of the following are true or false?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Apples, not caffeine, are more efficient at waking you up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;2. Alfred Hitchcock didn't have a bellybutton.&lt;br /&gt;4. People do not get sick from cold weather; it's from being indoors a lot&lt;br /&gt;more.&lt;br /&gt;5. When you sneeze, all bodily functions stop even your heart!&lt;br /&gt;6. Only seven ( 7 ) per cent of the population are lefties.&lt;br /&gt;7. 40 people are sent to the hospital for dog bites every minute.&lt;br /&gt;8. Babies are born without knee caps. They don't appear until they are 2-6&lt;br /&gt;years old.&lt;br /&gt;9. The average person over fifty will have spent 5 years waiting in lines.&lt;br /&gt;(especially if you had anything to do with the military!)&lt;br /&gt;10. The toothbrush was invented in 1498.&lt;br /&gt;11. The average housefly lives for one month.&lt;br /&gt;12. 40,000 Americans are injured by toilets each year.&lt;br /&gt;13. A coat hanger is 44 inches long when straightened.&lt;br /&gt;14. The average computer user blinks 7 times a minute.&lt;br /&gt;15. Your feet are bigger in the afternoon than the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;16. Most of us have eaten a spider in our sleep.&lt;br /&gt;17. The REAL reason ostriches stick their head in the sand is to search for&lt;br /&gt;water.&lt;br /&gt;18. The only 2 animals that can see behind itself without turning it's head&lt;br /&gt;are the rabbit and the parrot.&lt;br /&gt;19. John Travolta turned down the starring roles in "An Officer and a&lt;br /&gt;Gentleman" and "Tootsie".&lt;br /&gt;20. Michael Jackson owns the rights to the South Carolina State anthem.&lt;br /&gt;21. In most television commercials advertising milk, a mixture of white&lt;br /&gt;paint and a little thinner is used in place of the milk.&lt;br /&gt;22. Prince Charles and Prince William NEVER travel on the same airplane just&lt;br /&gt;in case there is a crash.&lt;br /&gt;23. The first Harley Davidson motorcycle built in 1903 used a tomato can for&lt;br /&gt;a carburetor.&lt;br /&gt;24. Most hospitals make money by selling the umbilical cords cut from women&lt;br /&gt;who give birth. They are reused in vein transplant surgery.&lt;br /&gt;25. Humphrey Bogart was related to Princess Diana. They were 7th cousins.&lt;br /&gt;26. If coloring weren't added to Coca-Cola, it would be green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL OF THE ABOVE ARE TRUE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106672521756236032?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106672521756236032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106672521756236032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/can-you-guess-which-of-following-are.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106629245068850390</id><published>2003-10-16T08:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-16T08:20:50.626Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>More from Peter Kay;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bike. Then I&lt;br /&gt;realised that The Lord doesn't work that way, so I stole one and asked him&lt;br /&gt;to forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Have you heard about the Irishman who reversed into a car boot sale and&lt;br /&gt;sold the engine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I've often wanted to drown my troubles, but I can't get my wife to go&lt;br /&gt;swimming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I was doing some decorating, so I got out my step-ladder. I don't get on&lt;br /&gt;with my real ladder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I went to a restaurant that serves 'breakfast at any time'. So I ordered&lt;br /&gt;French Toast during the Renaissance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* A cement mixer collided with a prison van on the Kingston Pass. Motorists&lt;br /&gt;are asked to be on the lookout for 16 hardened criminals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* well I was bullied at school, called all kinds of different names. But one&lt;br /&gt;day I turned to my bullies and said - 'Sticks and stones may break my bones&lt;br /&gt;but names will never hurt me', and it worked! From there on it was sticks&lt;br /&gt;and stones all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* My Dad used to say 'always fight fire with fire', which is probably why he&lt;br /&gt;got thrown out of the fire brigade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Sex is like bridge: If you don't have a good partner, you better have a&lt;br /&gt;good hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I saw six men kicking and punching the mother-in-law. My neighbour said&lt;br /&gt;'Are you going to help?' I said 'No, Six should be enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* If we aren't supposed to eat animals, then why are they made out of meat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I think animal testing is a terrible idea; they get all nervous and give&lt;br /&gt;the wrong answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* You know that look women get when they want sex? Me neither.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Politicians are wonderful people as long as they stay away from things&lt;br /&gt;they don't understand, such as working for a living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I was the kid next door's imaginary friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I've&lt;br /&gt;forgotten this before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I'd kill for a Nobel Peace Prize&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106629245068850390?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106629245068850390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106629245068850390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/more-from-peter-kay-when-i-was-kid-i.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106578448639905624</id><published>2003-10-10T11:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-10T11:14:46.366Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A man rushes home, bursting through the front door of his house yelling to&lt;br /&gt;his wife, "Pack your bags baby, I just won the lottery! All £9,500,000....&lt;br /&gt;Woooohooo!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;"That's great sweetie" she replies, "Do I pack for the beach or the&lt;br /&gt;mountains?"&lt;br /&gt;"Who cares", he replies, " Just f**k off ".&lt;br /&gt;- - -&lt;br /&gt;A married couple are driving along when they see a wounded skunk on the side&lt;br /&gt;of the road.&lt;br /&gt;They stop, the wife gets out, picks it up, and brings it into the car.&lt;br /&gt;She says, "Look, it's shivering, it must be cold. What should I do?"&lt;br /&gt;Her husband replies, "Put it between your legs to keep it warm."&lt;br /&gt;She asks, "What about the smell?"&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Hold its nose."&lt;br /&gt;- - -&lt;br /&gt;A man is out shopping and discovers a new brand of Olympic condoms.&lt;br /&gt;Clearly impressed, he buys a pack. Upon getting home he announces to his&lt;br /&gt;wife the purchase he just made.&lt;br /&gt;"Olympic condoms?", she blurts, "What makes them so special?"&lt;br /&gt;"There are three colours", he replies, "Gold, Silver and Bronze."&lt;br /&gt;"What colour are you going to wear tonight?", she asks cheekily.&lt;br /&gt;"Gold of course", says the man proudly.&lt;br /&gt;The wife responds, "Why don't you wear Silver, it would be nice if you came&lt;br /&gt;second for a change!".&lt;br /&gt;- - -&lt;br /&gt;A guy with a black eye boards his plane and sits down in his seat. He&lt;br /&gt;notices immediately that the guy next to him has a black eye, too.&lt;br /&gt;He says to him, "Hey this is a coincidence, we both have black eyes; mind if&lt;br /&gt;I ask how you got yours?"&lt;br /&gt;The other guy says, "Well, it just happened. It was a tongue twister&lt;br /&gt;accident. See, I was at the ticket counter and this gorgeous blonde with the&lt;br /&gt;most massive breasts in the world was there. So, instead of saying, I'd like&lt;br /&gt;two tickets to Pittsburgh,' I accidentally said, 'I'd like two pickets to&lt;br /&gt;Tittsburgh'...........So she socked me a good one."&lt;br /&gt;The first guy replied, "Wow! This is unbelievable. Mine was a tongue twister&lt;br /&gt;too. I was at the breakfast table this morning and I wanted to say to my&lt;br /&gt;wife, 'Please pour me a bowl of Frosties, honey.' But I accidentally said,&lt;br /&gt;'you ruined my life you evil fat slag'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106578448639905624?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106578448639905624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106578448639905624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/man-rushes-home-bursting-through-front.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106578286106522914</id><published>2003-10-10T10:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-10T10:47:40.716Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Male Sensitivity Test ... ( Be truthful)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In the company of females, intercourse should be referred to as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. Lovemaking.&lt;br /&gt;B. Screwing.&lt;br /&gt;C. Taking the pigskin bus to tuna town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You should make love to a woman for the first time only after you've both&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shared:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. Your views about what you expect from a sexual relationship.&lt;br /&gt;B. Your blood-test results.&lt;br /&gt;C. Thirty tequila slammers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. You carefully pace yourself to time your orgasm so that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. Your partner climaxes first.&lt;br /&gt;B. You both climax simultaneously.&lt;br /&gt;C. You don't miss the footie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Passionate, spontaneous sex on the kitchen floor is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. Healthy, creative love-play.&lt;br /&gt;B. Not the sort of thing your wife/girlfriend would agree to.&lt;br /&gt;C. Not the sort of thing your wife/girlfriend needs to ever find out about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Spending the whole night cuddling a woman you've just had sex with is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. The very best part of the experience.&lt;br /&gt;B. The second best part of the experience.&lt;br /&gt;C. The part you must endure to have any chance of getting further&lt;br /&gt;experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Your wife/girlfriend says she's gained five pounds in the last month. You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tell her that it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. Of no consequence to how you love her and your affectionate feelings for&lt;br /&gt;her.&lt;br /&gt;B. Not a problem, she can join your gym if she'd like to.&lt;br /&gt;C. A very conservative estimate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. You think today's sensitive, caring man is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. An important model to strive for&lt;br /&gt;B. A myth or an oxymoron.&lt;br /&gt;C. A moron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Foreplay is to sex as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. An appetizer is to entree.&lt;br /&gt;B. Primer is to paint.&lt;br /&gt;C. A long line is to an amusement park ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Which of the following are you most likely to find yourself saying at the&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;end of a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. "This time together has been meaningful for me. I hope we can still be&lt;br /&gt;friends."&lt;br /&gt;B. "I'm not in right now, please leave a message at the beep."&lt;br /&gt;C. "Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: YOU."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. A woman who is uncomfortable watching you masturbate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. Probably needs a little more time, understanding, and gentle&lt;br /&gt;encouragement before she can cope with that sort of intimacy.&lt;br /&gt;B. Is uptight and a waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;C. Shouldn't have sat next to you on the bus in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evaluating Results:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* If you answered "A" more than 7 times, check inside your pants to be sure&lt;br /&gt;you actually ARE a man.&lt;br /&gt;* If you answered "B" more than 7 times, check into therapy, just to be on&lt;br /&gt;the safe side.&lt;br /&gt;* If you answered "C" more than 7 times, YOU DA MAN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106578286106522914?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106578286106522914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106578286106522914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/male-sensitivity-test.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106554201086691952</id><published>2003-10-07T15:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-07T15:53:50.756Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some old Viz Top tips;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) If a small child is choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a&lt;br /&gt;jug of boiling water down its throat and hey presto! The blockage is almost&lt;br /&gt;instantly removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting&lt;br /&gt;someone else to hold them while you chop away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Keep the seat next to you on the train vacant by smiling and nodding at&lt;br /&gt;people as they walk up the aisle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Weight watchers. Avoid that devilish temptation to nibble at the&lt;br /&gt;chocolate bar in the cupboard or fridge by not buying the ****ing thing in&lt;br /&gt;the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Make bath times as much fun for kiddies as a visit to the seaside by&lt;br /&gt;pouring a bucket of sand, a bag of salt and a dog turd into the bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Recreate the fun of a visit to a public swimming pool in your own home&lt;br /&gt;by filling the bath with cold water, adding two bottles of bleach, then&lt;br /&gt;urinating into it, before jumping in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Don't buy expensive 'ribbed' condoms, just buy an ordinary one and slip&lt;br /&gt;a handful of frozen peas inside it before you put it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) X-Files fans. Create the effect of being abducted by aliens by drinking&lt;br /&gt;two bottles of vodka. You'll invariably wake up in a strange place the&lt;br /&gt;following morning, having had your memory mysteriously 'erased'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Don't waste money buying expensive binoculars simply stand closer to&lt;br /&gt;what you want to look at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Putting just the right amount of gin in your goldfish bowl makes the&lt;br /&gt;fishes' eyes bulge and cause them to swim in an amusing manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Save time when crossing a one-way street by only looking in the&lt;br /&gt;direction of oncoming traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Thicken up runny low-fat yoghurt by stirring in a spoonful of lard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) Anorexics, when your knees become fatter than your legs, start eating&lt;br /&gt;cakes again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) A next-door neighbour's car aerial, carefully folded, makes an ideal&lt;br /&gt;coat hanger in an emergency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) Hijackers. Avoid a long stressful siege and the risk of arrest,&lt;br /&gt;imprisonment or death by simply making sure you book a flight to your&lt;br /&gt;intended destination in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) An empty aluminium cigar tube filled with angry wasps makes an&lt;br /&gt;inexpensive vibrator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) Olympic athletes. Disguise the fact that you've taken anabolic steroids&lt;br /&gt;by running a bit slower. - B. Johnson, Canada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) Avoid arguments with the missus about lifting the loo seat by simply&lt;br /&gt;pis*ing in the sink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) Weedy fellas. Develop a right forearm like Arnold Schwarzeneggar by&lt;br /&gt;buying one of those Cindy Crawford workout videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) Vegetarians coming to dinner? Simply serve them a nice bit of steak or&lt;br /&gt;veal. Since they're always going on about how tofu, Quorn, meat substitute&lt;br /&gt;etc 'tastes' exactly like the real thing', they won't know any difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) Invited by vegetarians for dinner? Point out that since you'd no doubt&lt;br /&gt;be made aware of their special dietary requirements, tell them about yours,&lt;br /&gt;and ask for a nice steak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) Spice up your sex life by trying a bit of 'rodeo sex'. Take your missus&lt;br /&gt;from behind and, holding on tightly to her jugs, call her by the wrong name.&lt;br /&gt;See how long you can 'stay mounted' for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) Before attempting to remove stubborn stains from a garment always&lt;br /&gt;circle the stain in permanent pen so that when you remove the garment from&lt;br /&gt;the washing machine you can easily locate the area of the stain and check&lt;br /&gt;that it has gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) Give comics that 'Pulp Fiction' feel by reading the last frames of&lt;br /&gt;cartoons first, then reading the rest in a random order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) High blood pressure sufferers. Simply cut yourself and bleed for a&lt;br /&gt;while thus reducing the pressure in your veins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) Motorists. Enjoy the freedom of cycling by removing your windscreen,&lt;br /&gt;sticking half a melon skin on you head, then jumping red lights and driving&lt;br /&gt;the wrong way up one way streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) Create instant designer stubble by sucking a magnet and dipping your&lt;br /&gt;chin in a bowl of iron fillings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28) Have all your dumps at work. Not only will you save money on toilet&lt;br /&gt;paper, but you'll also be getting paid for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29) Nissan Micra drivers. Attach a lighted sparkler to the roof of your car&lt;br /&gt;before starting a long journey. You drive the things like dodgem cars&lt;br /&gt;anyway, so it may as well look like one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) A mousetrap, placed on top on of your alarm clock will prevent you from&lt;br /&gt;going back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106554201086691952?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106554201086691952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106554201086691952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/some-old-viz-top-tips-1-if-small-child.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106510730670090160</id><published>2003-10-02T15:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-02T15:08:26.773Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In accordance with our on going efficiency drive, management has determined&lt;br /&gt;that there is no longer any need for network or software applications&lt;br /&gt;support.&lt;br /&gt;Our goal is to remove all computers from desktops by December 31, 2003.&lt;br /&gt;After this time, all members of staff who can demonstrate a business need&lt;br /&gt;will be provided with an Etch-A-Sketch Pad.&lt;br /&gt;Our Etch-A-Sketch Technical Support Team has advised that this will&lt;br /&gt;eliminate: &lt;br /&gt;a) Operating System and Server problems &lt;br /&gt;b) virus infections and &lt;br /&gt;c) time-wasting through reading and writing e-mails, and surfing the&lt;br /&gt;Internet. &lt;br /&gt;Given the introduction of this new technology, our Etch-A-Sketch Technical&lt;br /&gt;Support team has set out below a number of Frequently Asked Questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: My Etch-A-Sketch has all of these funny little lines all over the screen.&lt;br /&gt;A. Pick it up and shake it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How do I turn my Etch-A-Sketch off? &lt;br /&gt;A. Pick it up and shake it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What's the shortcut for Undo? &lt;br /&gt;A. Pick it up and shake it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How do I create a New Document window? &lt;br /&gt;A. Pick it up and shake it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How do I set the background and foreground to the same colour? &lt;br /&gt;A. Pick it up and shake it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What is the proper procedure for rebooting my Etch-A-Sketch? &lt;br /&gt;A. Pick it up and shake it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How do I delete a document on my Etch-A-Sketch? &lt;br /&gt;A. Pick it up and shake it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How do I save my Etch-A-Sketch document? &lt;br /&gt;A. Don't shake it. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106510730670090160?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106510730670090160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106510730670090160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/in-accordance-with-our-on-going.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106510385589833329</id><published>2003-10-02T14:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-10-02T14:10:55.960Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Billy Connolly's 14 Things "I Hate About Everybody"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; 1. People who point at their wrist while asking for the time....I know &lt;br /&gt;&gt; where my watch is pal, where the f*ck is yours? Do I point at my crotch &lt;br /&gt;&gt; when I ask where the toilet is? &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 2. People who are willing to get off their arse to search the entire &lt;br /&gt;&gt; room for the TV remote because they refuse to walk to the TV and change &lt;br /&gt;&gt; the channel manually. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 3. When people say "Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too". &lt;br /&gt;&gt; F*cking right! What good is a cake if you can't eat it? &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 4. When people say "it's always the last place you look". Of course it &lt;br /&gt;&gt; is. Why the f*ck would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people &lt;br /&gt;&gt; do this??? Who and where are they??? &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 5. When people say while watching a film "did you see that!?". No &lt;br /&gt;&gt; tosser, I paid 10 quid to come to the cinema and stare at the f*cking &lt;br /&gt;&gt; floor. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 6. People who ask "Can I ask you a question?". Didn't really give me a &lt;br /&gt;&gt; choice there, did you sunshine? &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 7. When something is 'new and improved!'. Which is it? If it's new, then &lt;br /&gt;&gt; there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement, then &lt;br /&gt;&gt; there must have been something before it. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 8. When people say "life is short". What the f*ck?? Life is the longest &lt;br /&gt;&gt; damn thing anyone ever f*cking does!! What can you do that's longer? &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 9. When you are waiting for the bus and someone asks, "Has the bus come &lt;br /&gt;&gt; yet?". If the bus came would I be standing here, Sh*t-head? &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 10. People who say things like 'My eyes aren't what they used to be'. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; So what did they used to be? Ears, Wellington boots? &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 11. When you're eating something and someone asks 'Is that nice?' &lt;br /&gt;&gt; No,it's f*cking revolting - I always eat stuff I hate. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 12. People who announce they are going to the toilet. Thanks, that's an &lt;br /&gt;&gt; image I really didn't need. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 13. McDonalds staff who pretend they don't understand you if you don't &lt;br /&gt;&gt; insert the 'Mc' before the item you are ordering.....It's has to be a &lt;br /&gt;&gt; McChicken Burger, just a Chicken Burger get blank looks. Well I'll have &lt;br /&gt;&gt; a McStraw and jam it in your McEyes you f*cking McTosser. &lt;br /&gt;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&gt; 14. When you're involved in a accident and someone asks 'are you &lt;br /&gt;&gt; alright?' Yes fine thanks, I'll just pick up my limbs and be off then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106510385589833329?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106510385589833329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106510385589833329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/10/billy-connollys-14-things-i-hate-about.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106484348025484252</id><published>2003-09-29T13:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-09-29T13:51:20.496Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day, their&lt;br /&gt;passions overcame them and they took off for her house, where they made&lt;br /&gt;passionate love all afternoon. Exhausted from all this, they fell asleep,&lt;br /&gt;awakening around 8.00 p.m. As the man threw on his clothes, he told his&lt;br /&gt;secretary to take his shoes outside and rub them through the grass and dirt.&lt;br /&gt;Mystified, she nonetheless complied.&lt;br /&gt;He slipped into his shoes and drove home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where have you been!" demanded his wife when he entered the house.&lt;br /&gt;Darling, I can't lie to you. I've been having an affair with my&lt;br /&gt;secretary, and we've been together all afternoon. I fell asleep and didn't&lt;br /&gt;wake up until 8.00 p.m."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife glanced down at his shoes and said, "You lying b* st*ard!&lt;br /&gt;You've been playing golf!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106484348025484252?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106484348025484252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106484348025484252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/09/married-man-was-having-affair-with-his.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106388053345559043</id><published>2003-09-18T10:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-09-18T10:22:13.270Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ultimate Chain Letter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INSTRUCTIONS; &lt;br /&gt;1. Make a list of nine friends &lt;br /&gt;2. Anaesthetise your wife/girlfriend, put her in a large carton (don't &lt;br /&gt;forget some ventilation holes). &lt;br /&gt;3. Send the carton to the person who is at the top of the list and &lt;br /&gt;this letter to the rest. Soon, your name will be at the top of many lists, &lt;br /&gt;and you will receive 823,542 women through the post. statistically, &lt;br /&gt;among those women, there will be at least: 0.5 miss worlds, 2.5 models, 463 &lt;br /&gt;wild nymphos 3,234 good-looking nymphos and 40,198 bi-sexual women. In &lt;br /&gt;total, 64,294 women who are simply hornier, less inhibited, and &lt;br /&gt;tastier than the grumpy old bag you posted off. And, best of all, your &lt;br /&gt;original package is guaranteed not to be one of those that come back &lt;br /&gt;to you. &lt;br /&gt;DO NOT BREAK THIS CHAIN LETTER - BACK LUCK WILL FOLLOW YOU FOR THE &lt;br /&gt;REST OF YOUR DAYS. &lt;br /&gt;One bloke for example who sent the letter to only 5 instead of 9 of &lt;br /&gt;his friends got his original bird back, still in the old dressing gown he &lt;br /&gt;sent her off in, with the same migraine attack, and the accusatorial &lt;br /&gt;expression on her face. On the same day, the international supermodel &lt;br /&gt;he'd been living with since he sent off his old girlfriend moved out &lt;br /&gt;to live with his best friend (to whom he had not sent the chain letter.) &lt;br /&gt;While I am sending this letter, the bloke that was in 6th place above &lt;br /&gt;me in my list has already received 837 women and is lying in &lt;br /&gt;hospital suffering from exhaustion. Outside his ward are 452 more packages. &lt;br /&gt;YOU MUST BELIEVE THIS E-MAIL &lt;br /&gt;This is a unique opportunity to achieve a totally satisfying sex life. &lt;br /&gt;No expensive meals out, no lengthy conversations about trivialities, &lt;br /&gt;no grumpy mother-in-law, and no unpleasant surprises like marriage or &lt;br /&gt;engagement. Do not hesitate: send this letter today to 9 of your best &lt;br /&gt;friends. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106388053345559043?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106388053345559043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106388053345559043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/09/ultimate-chain-letter-instructions-1.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106214566818473000</id><published>2003-08-29T08:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-08-29T08:27:48.253Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If you don't laugh at the end of reading this then there's something wrong&lt;br /&gt;with you... :-)&lt;br /&gt;Just imagine sitting in traffic on your way to work and hearing this.  Many&lt;br /&gt;Chicago folks DID hear this on the WBAM FM morning show in Chicago.&lt;br /&gt;The DJs play a game where they award winners great prizes. The game is&lt;br /&gt;called "Mate Match". The DJs call someone at work and ask if they are&lt;br /&gt;married or seriously involved with someone. If the contestant answers "yes",&lt;br /&gt;he or she is then asked 3 random yet highly personal questions.  The person&lt;br /&gt;is also asked to divulge the name of their partner (with phone number) for&lt;br /&gt;verification.&lt;br /&gt;If their partner answers those same three questions correctly, they both win&lt;br /&gt;the prize. One particular game, however, several months ago made the City of&lt;br /&gt;Big Shoulders drop to its knees with laughter and is possibly the funniest&lt;br /&gt;thing I've heard yet. Anyway, here's how it all went down:&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Hey! This is Edgar on WBAM. Have you ever heard of 'Mate Match'?"&lt;br /&gt;Contestant: (laughing) "Yes, I have."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Great! Then you know we're giving away a trip to Orlando, Florida if&lt;br /&gt;you win. What is your name? First only please." Contestant: "Brian."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Brian, are you married or what?"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Yes? Does that mean you're married or you're what?"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: (laughing nervously) "Yes, I am married."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Thank you. Now, what is your wife's name? First only please."&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "Sara."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Is Sara at work, Brian?"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "She is gonna kill me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Stay with me here, Brian! Is she at work?"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: (laughing) "Yes, she's at work."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Okay, first question - when was the last time you had sex?"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "She is gonna kill me."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Brian! Stay with me here!"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "About 8 o'clock this morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Atta boy, Brian."&lt;br /&gt;Brian: (laughing sheepishly) "Well..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Question #2 - How long did it last?"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "About 10 minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Wow! You really want that trip,huh? No one would ever have said that if&lt;br /&gt;a trip wasn't at stake."&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "Yeah, that trip sure would be nice."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Okay. Final question. Where did you have sex at 8 o'clock this&lt;br /&gt;morning?"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: (laughing hard) "I, ummm, I, well..."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "This sounds good, Brian. Where was it at?" Brian: "Not that it was all&lt;br /&gt;that great, but her Mum is staying with us for a couple of weeks..."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Uh huh..."&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "...and the Mother-In-Law was in the shower at the time."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Atta boy, Brian."&lt;br /&gt;Brian: "On the kitchen table."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Not that great?? That is more adventure than the previous hundred times&lt;br /&gt;I've done it. Okay folks, I will put Brian on hold, get this wife's work&lt;br /&gt;number and call her up. You listen to this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 minutes of commercials follow.&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Okay audience, let's call Sarah, shall we?"(touch&lt;br /&gt;tones.....ringing....)&lt;br /&gt;Clerk: "Kinkos."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Hey, is Sarah around there somewhere?"&lt;br /&gt;Clerk: "This is she."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Sarah, this is Edgar with WBAM. We are live on the air right now and&lt;br /&gt;I've been talking with Brian for a couple of hours now."&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: (laughing) "A couple of hours?"&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Well, a while now. He is on the line with us.&lt;br /&gt;Brian knows not to give any answers away or you'll lose. Sooooooo...&lt;br /&gt;do&lt;br /&gt;you know the rules of 'Mate Match'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: "No."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Good!"&lt;br /&gt;Brian: (laughing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: (laughing) "Brian, what the hell are you up to?" Brian (laughing)&lt;br /&gt;"Just answer his questions honestly, okay? Be completely honest."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Yeah yeah yeah. Sure. Now, I will ask you 3 questions, Sarah. If your&lt;br /&gt;answers match Brian's answers, then the both of you will be off to Orlando,&lt;br /&gt;Florida for 5 days on us. DisneyWorld. SeaWorld. Tickets to the Magic's&lt;br /&gt;game. The whole deal. Get it Sarah?" Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Alright. When did you last have sex, Sarah?"&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: "Oh God, Brian....uh, this morning before Brian went to work."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "What time?"&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: "Around 8 this morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Very good. Next question. How long did it last?"&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: "12, 15 minutes maybe."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Hmmmm. That's close enough. I am sure she is trying to protect his&lt;br /&gt;manhood. We've got one last question, Sarah. You are one question away from&lt;br /&gt;a trip to Florida. Are you ready?"&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: (laughing) "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "Where did you have it?"&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: "OH MY GOD, BRIAN!! You didn't tell them that, did you?"&gt; Brian:&lt;br /&gt;"Just tell him, honey."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: "What is bothering you so much, Sarah?"&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: "Well..."&lt;br /&gt;DJ: Come on Sarah.....where did you have it?&lt;br /&gt;Sarah: "Up the arse....."&lt;br /&gt;After a long pause, the DJ said, "Folks, we need to take a station&lt;br /&gt;break"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106214566818473000?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106214566818473000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106214566818473000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/08/if-you-dont-laugh-at-end-of-reading.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-106059362995644493</id><published>2003-08-11T09:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-08-11T09:20:29.930Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Had to post this as I love it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Use of Computers in Movies;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word processors never display a cursor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never have to use the space-bar when typing long sentences. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All monitors display inch-high letters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most relevant information is displayed in a separate windows right in the middle of the screen, but there's never an Ok button to other way to close it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High-tech computers, such as those used by NASA, the CIA, or some such governmental institution, will have easy to understand graphical interfaces. Those that don't, have incredibly powerful text-based command shells that can correctly understand and execute commands typed in plain English. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corollary: you can gain access to any information you want by simply typing "ACCESS ALL OF THE SECRET FILES" on any keyboard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likewise, you can infect a computer with a destructive virus by simply typing "UPLOAD VIRUS" (see Fortress). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All computers are connected. You can access the information on the villain's desktop computer, even if it's turned off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Powerful computers beep whenever you press a key or whenever the screen changes. Some computers also slow down the output on the screen so that it doesn't go faster than you can read. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The really advanced ones also emulate the sound of a dot-matrix printer. (See The Hunt For Red October or Alien) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All computer panels have thousands of volts and flash pots just underneath the surface. Malfunctions are indicated by a bright flash, a puff of smoke, a shower of sparks, and an explosion that forces you backwards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corollary: sending data to a modem/tape drive/printer faster than expected causes it to explode. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People typing away on a computer will turn it off without saving the data. (See the opening credits for The Hunt For Red October) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A hacker can get into the most sensitive computer in the world before intermission and guess the secret password in two tries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any PERMISSION DENIED error has an OVERRIDE function (see Demolition Man and countless others). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complex calculations and loading of huge amounts of data will be accomplished in under three seconds. Movie modems (especially the wireless ones they must be using when they're in the car) usually appear to transmit data at the speed of two gigabytes per second. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the power plant/missile-site/whatever overheats, all the control panels will explode, as will the entire building. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a disk has got encrypted files, you are automatically asked for a password when you try to access them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what kind of computer disk it is, it'll be readable by any system you put it into. All application software is usable by all computer platforms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more high-tech the equipment, the more buttons it has (Aliens). However, everyone must have been highly trained, because none of the buttons are labelled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most computers, no matter how small, are able to produce reality-defying three-dimensional, active animation, photo-realistic graphics, with little or no detailed input from the user. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laptops, for some strange reason, always seem to have amazing real-time video phone capabilities and the performance of a CRAY Supercomputer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever a character looks at a VDU, the image is so bright that it projects itself onto his/her face (see Alien, 2001, Jurassic Park). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either a Jacob's Ladder or a Van Der Graaf Generator is absolutely necessary for the operation of new, experimental computers (especially when built by brilliant scientists), although in real life, these devices do absolutely nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One can issue any complex set of commands in a few keystokes (see Star Trek). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet connects to everything in the movies. You can edit credit records, search hotel registries, lookup police criminal files, search (and edit) drivers license databases, edit social security files and more just using the internet! (see The Net) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smashing the VDU prevents the whole system from working (see Speed). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can launch nuclear missles from any bedroom using an analog modem, but only if you know a single secret password (see War Games). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(reference Annoyances.org)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-106059362995644493?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106059362995644493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/106059362995644493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/08/had-to-post-this-as-i-love-it-use-of.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497195.post-105791497929754789</id><published>2003-07-11T09:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-07-11T09:16:19.323Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You are driving along in your car on a wild, stormy night, when you  pass by&lt;br /&gt;a bus stop, and you see three people waiting for the bus:&lt;br /&gt;1. An old lady who looks as if she is about to die.&lt;br /&gt;2. An old friend who once saved your life.&lt;br /&gt;3. The perfect partner you have been dreaming about.&lt;br /&gt;Which one would you choose to offer a ride to, knowing that there could only&lt;br /&gt;be one passenger in your car?&lt;br /&gt;Think before you continue reading...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a moral/ethical dilemma that was once actually used as part of  a&lt;br /&gt;job application.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could pick up the old lady, because she is going to die, and  thus you&lt;br /&gt;should save her first;&lt;br /&gt;Or you could take the old friend because he  once saved your life, and this&lt;br /&gt;would be the perfect chance to pay him  back.&lt;br /&gt;However, you may never be able to find your perfect mate again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The candidate who was hired (out of 200 applicants) had no trouble  coming&lt;br /&gt;up with his answer. He simply answered: "I would give the car keys to  my&lt;br /&gt;old friend and let him take the lady to the hospital. I would stay  behind&lt;br /&gt;and  wait for the bus with the partner of my dreams."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, we gain more if we are able to give up our stubborn  thought&lt;br /&gt;limitations. Never forget to "Think Outside of the Box."&lt;br /&gt;However, the correct answer is to run the old lady over and put  her out of&lt;br /&gt;her misery, have sex with the perfect partner against the bus stop, then&lt;br /&gt;drive off with the old friend for some beers!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;www.flares.co.uk - This weblog was initally created to provide a home for all those jokes that get circulated from office to office via e-mail. Now we will virtually put anything we like on it.
Please submit any of your jokes, links, and any other cool stuff to mail@flares.co.uk&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3497195-105791497929754789?l=flaresblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/105791497929754789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3497195/posts/default/105791497929754789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flaresblog.blogspot.com/2003/07/you-are-driving-along-in-your-car-on.html' title=''/><author><name>flares</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05928739826664271574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VJ4VzgnyYMI/TLxEYMR8WFI/AAAAAAAAApE/35FDEjC4rAc/S220/Philkote.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
