<?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-5253054438043189344</id><updated>2012-01-25T05:50:51.298-08:00</updated><category term='story'/><category term='pictures'/><category term='jokes'/><category term='about'/><category term='funny'/><category term='general'/><category term='love'/><category term='success'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>Jolly Cow</title><subtitle type='html'>Jokes, Anecdotes and Stories to make you Laugh</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>141</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1619549714381076226</id><published>2008-12-22T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T13:11:25.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leather Lingeries</title><content type='html'>Any woman would agree that wearing leather makes her feel special. Then what’s stopping you ladies out there from wearing leather lingerie? If you don’t know where to find these sensual leather lingerie, &lt;a href="http://www.flirtylingerie.com/leather.html"&gt;Flirty Lingerie&lt;/a&gt; is the site to search. They offer you a wide range of leather lingerie which range from leather bras to leather garter belts. You can select from a huge collection of leather panties, leather thongs, leather G-strings, leather corsets and leather teddies. These leather lingerie make you feel seductive, flirty and desirable. Most women prefer leather lingerie because it is really comfortable and it looks and feels sexy on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flirtylingerie.com/leattedandbo.html"&gt;Flirty Lingerie &lt;/a&gt; gives you varieties of lingerie to choose from. They have multiple collections of leather teddies like leather teddies, sexy leather teddy, and teddy bodysuits. These teddies are available in soft and supple black leather and are a variety of lingerie every woman craves for. These teddies are available with straps, buckles, lace and as full bodysuits. They also provide a range of open bust teddies which are very enticing. They have leather bikini teddies, teddies with chains and teddies with suspenders in leather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lingerie is a necessity for any woman young and old. I’m sure every woman would want to look alluring and tempting for her lover/husband. Wearing this sexy leather lingerie is a definite way to do exactly that. The &lt;a href="http://www.flirtylingerie.com/"&gt;Flirty Lingerie&lt;/a&gt; provides a lot more than just flirty lingerie. It can guarantee to give you a wardrobe you can be proud of. Corsets, garter belts, suspenders, buckles, straps or open busts, anything you name, and you can have it all in leather. Apart from giving you a rich wardrobe, it also makes you look and feel sexy. Coveted in large amongst the women of today who deserve the best because they are the best, this leather lingerie is surely an essentiality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1619549714381076226?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1619549714381076226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1619549714381076226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1619549714381076226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1619549714381076226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/12/leather-lingeries.html' title='Leather Lingeries'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2592084953128058649</id><published>2008-11-22T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T16:27:45.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'>inLinks</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/* &lt;![CDATA[ */&lt;br /&gt;function affiliateLink(str){ str = unescape(str); var r = ''; for(var i = 0; i &lt; str.length; i++) r += String.fromCharCode(5^str.charCodeAt(i)); document.write(r); }&lt;br /&gt;affiliateLink('9d%25mw%60c8%27mqqu%3F**rrr+lkilknv+fjh*%3Aw%60c874772%3D%27%3BLkIlknv9*d%3B');&lt;br /&gt;/* ]]&gt; */&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/* &lt;![CDATA[ */&lt;br /&gt;function affiliateLink(str){ str = unescape(str); var r = ''; for(var i = 0; i &lt; str.length; i++) r += String.fromCharCode(5^str.charCodeAt(i)); document.write(r); }&lt;br /&gt;affiliateLink('9d%25mw%60c8%27mqqu%3F**rrr+lkilknv+fjh*%3Aw%60c874772%3D%27%3BLkIlknv9*d%3B');&lt;br /&gt;/* ]]&gt; */&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2592084953128058649?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2592084953128058649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2592084953128058649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2592084953128058649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2592084953128058649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/11/inlinks.html' title='inLinks'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1078786945315894951</id><published>2008-06-16T23:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T23:53:24.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun:Sardarji caught in a Shipwreck</title><content type='html'>A Sardarji was travelling in a ship carrying lot of sheep and a&lt;br&gt;watchdog. A watchdog&amp;#39;s duty is to look after the sheep and protect&lt;br&gt;them from dangers and strangers. The Sardarji had bought the sheeps&lt;br&gt;and dog for a cheap price from Australia and returning to Punjab to&lt;br&gt;raise them. Suddenly, the ship was caught in a cyclone in the middle&lt;br&gt;of the sea and it drowned.&lt;p&gt;By catching a broken wood, our Sardarji  managed to reach a nearby&lt;br&gt;island. With him, one sheep and the watchdog also came to the island&lt;br&gt;one by one. Our Sardarji  used to spend time with the sheep and&lt;br&gt;watchdog every evening..they will go for a walk and sit and watch the&lt;br&gt;sunset.&lt;p&gt;After so many lonely days, the sheep started looking &amp;#39;attractive&amp;#39; to&lt;br&gt;our man. One evening, the sea breeze was very pleasant, after a&lt;br&gt;beautiful sunset, the starry night gave a romantic feel to our&lt;br&gt;Sardarji.&lt;p&gt;So, on this evening, the Sardarji leaned over to the sheep and ..put&lt;br&gt;his arm around it.&lt;p&gt;But, the watchdog looked and barked fiercely and our Sardarji could&lt;br&gt;not make any romantic move to the sheep. It went on for few evenings.&lt;br&gt;Sardarji tried many ways to distract the watchdog, but nothing worked.&lt;p&gt;On another beautiful day, another ship caught in cyclone and this&lt;br&gt;time, a beautiful, lovely looking lady washed up on the same island.&lt;p&gt;She also joined the three members (Sardarji , dog and sheep) for the&lt;br&gt;evening walks. On one evening, our Sardarji got the same romantic&lt;br&gt;feeling. He looked at the girl passionately. The girl looked at&lt;br&gt;Sardarji and said, &amp;#39;how can I help you?&amp;#39;.&lt;p&gt;Sardarji after hearing those words from the girl, without controlling&lt;br&gt;his joy asked,&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Can you please take this dog for a walk?&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1078786945315894951?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1078786945315894951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1078786945315894951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1078786945315894951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1078786945315894951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/06/funsardarji-caught-in-shipwreck.html' title='Fun:Sardarji caught in a Shipwreck'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3877875521273762328</id><published>2008-06-16T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T20:20:34.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Send Corporate Gifts to your Customers</title><content type='html'>Gifts are loved by everyone. Sending a gift is a better way to tell someone that you think about them and love them. Sending gifts to loved ones is an age-old tradition dating back to history as early as Adam and Eve’s time. The art of gifting and the importance of sending gifts is being neglected by people. Everyone would like to receive gifts but no one is ready to present gifts to someone. The common excuse that everyone tells is that they do not have time to run around the shops and buy a gift for their loved ones.  With so many Internet services and online shops available, it is possible for anyone to buy things sitting at their desk and ship to a friend who may live anywhere in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day by day, many customers are choosing to shop online because, it not only saves time but they can easily search for a gift and compare it’s prices across various online stores instantly. If you need to search for a product in the real world, you need to step into at least 10 stores that may not even have the item in stock. There are better deals available online and it is easy to ship to a doorstep and you can track your gift until it reaches your loved ones. Gift Tree is one such online shop where you can buy gifts and send them to your loved ones. Going on step further, Gift Tree helps you in sending &lt;a href="http://www.gifttree.com/"&gt;corporate gifts&lt;/a&gt; – it helps corporations and firms to send gifts to their customers. As every corporate firm strives hard to get hold of their customers, it is a nice thing to send small gifts to their loyal customers. Gift Tree specializes in eliminating all your hassles by taking care of the entire gifting process. You need to provide the addresses of recipients and the costs to &lt;a href="http://www.gifttree.com/"&gt;Gift Tree &lt;/a&gt; and everything will be taken care by them. Gift Tree houses a wide range of premium quality gifts that include wine baskets, fruit, flower baskets and personalized gifts that may be branded with your business name before sending to your customers. I would highly recommend you to look at Gift Tree for fulfilling your &lt;a href="http://www.gifttree.com/"&gt;corporate gift&lt;/a&gt; management. Gift Tree has a beautifully designed, easy-to-navigate website that guides you to choose a gift based on your preferences and price range.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3877875521273762328?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.gifttree.com/' title='Send Corporate Gifts to your Customers'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3877875521273762328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3877875521273762328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3877875521273762328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3877875521273762328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/06/send-corporate-gifts-to-your-customers.html' title='Send Corporate Gifts to your Customers'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1082136867294014715</id><published>2008-06-09T17:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T17:34:12.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Telegrams</title><content type='html'>TELEGRAM #1&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A daughter sends a telegram to her father on her clearing B.Ed exams, which the father receives as:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;father, your daughter has been successful in BED.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;************ ***&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;TELEGRAM #2&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A husband, while he is on a business trip to a hill station sends a  telegram to his wife: &amp;quot;I wish you were here.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The message received by wife:  &amp;quot;I wish you were her.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;************ ***&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; TELEGRAM #3 &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A wife with near maturing pregnan! Cy goes to railway station to return to her husband. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;At the reservation counter, while her turn came, it was the last ticket. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Taking pity on a very old lady next to her in the queue, she offered her berth to the old lady and sent a telegram to her husband which reached as: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;quot;Shall be coming tomorrow, heavy rush in the train, gave birth to an old lady.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;************ ***&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;TELEGRAM #4 &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A man wants to celebrate his wife&amp;#39;s Birthday by throwing a party. So he goes to order a birthday cake.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The salesman asks him what message he wants to put on the cake. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well he thinks for a while and says:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Let&amp;#39;s put, &amp;quot;you are not getting older you are getting better&amp;quot;. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The salesman asks, &amp;quot;How do you want me to put it?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The man says, Well put &amp;quot;You are not getting older&amp;quot;, at the top and &amp;quot;! You are getting better&amp;quot; at the bottom.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The real fun didn&amp;#39;t start until the cake was opened the entire party watched the message decorated on the cake: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;You are not getting older at the top, you are getting better at the bottom&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;************ ***&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;TELEGRAM #5 &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A man from Agra went to Ajmer. His wife was in her parent&amp;#39;s house in Delhi .&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;When the man went to Ajmer, he asked his servant to send a telegram to his wife indicating about his trip to Ajmer. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He sent a telegram. When the wife received the telegram, she fainted. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It was written:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Sethji aaj mar ! Gaye! (Sethji Ajmer gaye ) &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;************ ***&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1082136867294014715?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1082136867294014715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1082136867294014715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1082136867294014715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1082136867294014715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/06/funny-telegrams.html' title='Funny Telegrams'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1265114960094241391</id><published>2008-03-01T01:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T01:09:40.295-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>Beautiful Paintings</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful6.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful7.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful8.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful9.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful10.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful11.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful12.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful13.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful15.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful17.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful18.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pthirumurugan.googlepages.com/wonderful20.jpg"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1265114960094241391?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1265114960094241391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1265114960094241391' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1265114960094241391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1265114960094241391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/03/beautiful-paintings.html' title='Beautiful Paintings'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1633706214167002214</id><published>2008-02-08T06:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:50:22.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Friends Gallery and Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh55icIbI/AAAAAAAABi0/R_7bU1pRxfw/s1600-h/bf01.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh55icIbI/AAAAAAAABi0/R_7bU1pRxfw/s400/bf01.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' &gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh6ZicIcI/AAAAAAAABi8/YYtrKoFk_FE/s1600-h/bf02.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh6ZicIcI/AAAAAAAABi8/YYtrKoFk_FE/s400/bf02.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' &gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh6ZicIdI/AAAAAAAABjE/k36f-6Oo_SY/s1600-h/bf03.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh6ZicIdI/AAAAAAAABjE/k36f-6Oo_SY/s400/bf03.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' &gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh6picIeI/AAAAAAAABjM/xYcjCJVmoP0/s1600-h/bf04.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh6picIeI/AAAAAAAABjM/xYcjCJVmoP0/s400/bf04.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' &gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1633706214167002214?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1633706214167002214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1633706214167002214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1633706214167002214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1633706214167002214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/02/best-friends-gallery-and-quotes.html' title='Best Friends Gallery and Quotes'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xh55icIbI/AAAAAAAABi0/R_7bU1pRxfw/s72-c/bf01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-9095964989174620462</id><published>2008-02-08T06:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:50:23.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Calcutta Photos circa 1945</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xhaZicIXI/AAAAAAAABiU/aoKx4BjmIxE/s1600-h/60.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xhaZicIXI/AAAAAAAABiU/aoKx4BjmIxE/s400/60.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xha5icIYI/AAAAAAAABic/Vs8z4qPHBMc/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xha5icIYI/AAAAAAAABic/Vs8z4qPHBMc/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xhbJicIZI/AAAAAAAABik/2qNP-K02QKA/s1600-h/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xhbJicIZI/AAAAAAAABik/2qNP-K02QKA/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xhbpicIaI/AAAAAAAABis/neyJ4mF9qFI/s1600-h/Chowringhee+Street---Calcutta%27s+main+throughfare.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xhbpicIaI/AAAAAAAABis/neyJ4mF9qFI/s400/Chowringhee+Street---Calcutta%27s+main+throughfare.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-9095964989174620462?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/9095964989174620462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=9095964989174620462' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9095964989174620462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9095964989174620462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/02/old-calcutta-photos-circa-1945.html' title='Old Calcutta Photos circa 1945'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R6xhaZicIXI/AAAAAAAABiU/aoKx4BjmIxE/s72-c/60.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2510886580929391666</id><published>2008-02-03T11:11:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T11:11:12.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Love Offer Letter</title><content type='html'>Dearest Ms Juliet,&lt;p&gt;   I am very happy to inform you that I have fallen in Love with you since the 14th of October (Saturday).  With reference to the meeting held between us on the 13th of Oct. at 1500 hrs, I would like to present myself as a prospective lover. Our love affair would be on probation for a period of three months and depending on compatibility, would be made permanent.&lt;p&gt;Of course, upon completion of probation, there will be continuous on the job training and performance appraisal schemes leading up! to promotion from lover to spouse. The expenses incurred for coffee and entertainment&lt;br&gt;would initially be shared equally between us. Later, based on your performance, I might take up a larger share of the expenses. However I am broadminded enough to be taken care of, on your expense account.&lt;p&gt;I request you to kindly respond within 30 days of receiving this letter, failing which, this offer would be cancelled without further notice and I shall be considering someone else.&lt;p&gt;I would be happy, if you could forward this letter to your sister, if you do not wish to take up this offer.&lt;p&gt; Wish you all the best!&lt;p&gt;Thanking you in anticipation,&lt;p&gt;  Yours sincerely,&lt;br&gt;   Romeo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2510886580929391666?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2510886580929391666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2510886580929391666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2510886580929391666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2510886580929391666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/02/love-offer-letter_03.html' title='The Love Offer Letter'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5956186653173111278</id><published>2008-02-03T11:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T11:11:08.158-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Love Offer Letter</title><content type='html'>Dearest Ms Juliet,&lt;p&gt;   I am very happy to inform you that I have fallen in Love with you since the 14th of October (Saturday).  With reference to the meeting held between us on the 13th of Oct. at 1500 hrs, I would like to present myself as a prospective lover. Our love affair would be on probation for a period of three months and depending on compatibility, would be made permanent.&lt;p&gt;Of course, upon completion of probation, there will be continuous on the job training and performance appraisal schemes leading up! to promotion from lover to spouse. The expenses incurred for coffee and entertainment&lt;br&gt;would initially be shared equally between us. Later, based on your performance, I might take up a larger share of the expenses. However I am broadminded enough to be taken care of, on your expense account.&lt;p&gt;I request you to kindly respond within 30 days of receiving this letter, failing which, this offer would be cancelled without further notice and I shall be considering someone else.&lt;p&gt;I would be happy, if you could forward this letter to your sister, if you do not wish to take up this offer.&lt;p&gt; Wish you all the best!&lt;p&gt;Thanking you in anticipation,&lt;p&gt;  Yours sincerely,&lt;br&gt;   Romeo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5956186653173111278?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5956186653173111278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5956186653173111278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5956186653173111278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5956186653173111278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/02/love-offer-letter.html' title='The Love Offer Letter'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7408695070804480995</id><published>2008-02-02T09:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T09:08:13.547-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The touching love story</title><content type='html'>One of the most touching love story I&amp;#39;ve read in a while..&lt;br&gt;From the very beginning, girl&amp;#39;s family objected strongly on her dating&lt;br&gt;this    guy, saying that it has got to do with family background, &amp;amp; that&lt;br&gt;the girl  will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be&lt;br&gt;with him.&lt;p&gt;Due to family&amp;#39;s pressure, the couple quarreled very often. Though the&lt;br&gt;girl  loved the guy deeply, she always asked him: &amp;quot;How deep is your&lt;br&gt;love for me?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;As the guy is not good with his words, this often caused the girl to be&lt;br&gt;very upset. With that &amp;amp; the family&amp;#39;s pressure, the gal often vents her&lt;br&gt;anger on him. As for him.. he only endured it in silence.&lt;p&gt;After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated &amp;amp; decided to further&lt;br&gt;his studies overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the gal: &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m not&lt;br&gt;very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow&lt;br&gt;me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family,&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The girl agreed, &amp;amp; with the guy&amp;#39;s determination, the family finally gave&lt;br&gt;in &amp;amp; agreed to let them get married. So before he left, they got&lt;br&gt;engaged.&lt;p&gt;The gal went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas,&lt;br&gt;continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails &amp;amp; phone&lt;br&gt;calls. Though it was hard, but both never thought of giving up.&lt;p&gt;One day, while the gal was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a&lt;br&gt;car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her&lt;br&gt;bed. She realized that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum cry, she&lt;br&gt;wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of&lt;br&gt;her mouth was just a sigh. She had lost her voice....&lt;p&gt;The doctor says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her&lt;br&gt;voice. Listening to her parents&amp;#39; comfort, but with nothing coming out&lt;br&gt;from her, she broke down. During the stay in hospital, besides silent&lt;br&gt;cry.. It&amp;#39;s still just silent cry that accompanied her. Upon reaching&lt;br&gt;home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of&lt;br&gt;the phone which pierced into her heart everytime it rang. She does not&lt;br&gt;wish to let the guy know &amp;amp; not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote&lt;br&gt;a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.&lt;p&gt;With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent&lt;br&gt;millions &amp;amp; millions of reply and countless phone calls.. all the gal&lt;br&gt;could do besides crying is still crying.... The parents decided to move&lt;br&gt;away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything &amp;amp; be happy.&lt;br&gt;With a new environment, the gal learnt sign language &amp;amp; started a new&lt;br&gt;life.&lt;p&gt;Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her&lt;br&gt;friend came &amp;amp; told her that he&amp;#39;s back. She asked her friend not to let&lt;br&gt;him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn&amp;#39;t anymore news of&lt;br&gt;him.&lt;p&gt;A year has passed &amp;amp; her friend came with an envelope, containing an&lt;br&gt;invitation card for the guy&amp;#39;s wedding. The gal was shattered. When she&lt;br&gt;opened the letter, she saw her name on it instead. When she was about to&lt;br&gt;ask her friend what was going on, she saw the guy standing in front of&lt;br&gt;her....&lt;p&gt;He used sign language to tell her, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;ve spent a year to learn sign&lt;br&gt;language. Just to let you know that I&amp;#39;ve not forgotten our promise. Let&lt;br&gt;me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You.&amp;quot; With that, he slipped&lt;br&gt;the ring back into her finger. The gal finally smiled......&lt;br&gt;Treat every relationship as if it&amp;#39;s the last one, then you&amp;#39;ll know how&lt;br&gt;to Give.&lt;p&gt;Treat every moment as if it&amp;#39;s the last day, then you&amp;#39;ll know how to&lt;br&gt;Treasure.&lt;p&gt;Treasure what you have right now, or else you may regret one day..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7408695070804480995?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7408695070804480995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7408695070804480995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7408695070804480995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7408695070804480995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/02/touching-love-story.html' title='The touching love story'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6425145435529756290</id><published>2008-02-02T03:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T03:45:20.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OLD AGE MAN meets FROG PRINCESS Joke</title><content type='html'>A guy is 81 years old and loves to fish.  He was sitting in his boat the other day when he heard a voice say, &amp;quot; Pick me up.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;He looked around and couldn&amp;#39;t see any one.  He thought he was dreaming when he heard the voice say again, &amp;quot; Pick me up.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;He looked in the water and there, floating on the top, was a frog.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The man said, &amp;quot;Are you talking to me?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The frog said, &amp;quot;Yes, I&amp;#39;m talking to you.  Pick me up.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then, kiss me and I&amp;#39;ll turn into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. I&amp;#39;ll then give you more s@xual pleasure that you ever could have dreamed of.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The man looked at the frog for a short time, reached over, picked it up carefully, and placed it in his front pocket.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then the frog said, &amp;quot;What, are you nuts?  Didn&amp;#39;t you hear what I said? I said kiss me and I will l give you s@xual pleasures like you have never had.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;He opened his pocket, looked at the frog and said,&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Nah, at my age I&amp;#39;d rather have a talking frog.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6425145435529756290?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6425145435529756290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6425145435529756290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6425145435529756290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6425145435529756290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/02/old-age-man-meets-frog-princess-joke.html' title='OLD AGE MAN meets FROG PRINCESS Joke'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1635922303838434292</id><published>2008-01-31T15:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T15:44:11.125-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strict advice for Fitness</title><content type='html'>An obese blonde with unhealthy overweight, went to  Doctor.&lt;p&gt;Her doctor put her on a diet with strict advise. &amp;quot; I want you to eat regularly for two days and then skip a day. I want you to repeat this procedure for 2 weeks. The next time I see you, you&amp;#39;ll have lost at least 5 pounds.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;When the blonde returned, she shocked the doctor by losing nearly 20 pounds. &amp;quot;Wow, this is amazing!&amp;quot; the doctor said, &amp;quot;So you did follow my instructions?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The blonde nodded yes. &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;ll tell you though, I thought I was going to drop dead that third day.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;From hunger, you mean?&amp;quot; The Doctor asked.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;No, from skipping&amp;quot;, The Blonde explained .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1635922303838434292?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1635922303838434292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1635922303838434292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1635922303838434292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1635922303838434292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/strict-advice-for-fitness.html' title='Strict advice for Fitness'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5653080101884737396</id><published>2008-01-30T01:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T01:38:18.302-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Get a Perfect Job Locally</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Whenever you&amp;rsquo;re not certain wherever to begin searching a job, but you&amp;rsquo;re genuinely serious about discovering one locally, well you&amp;rsquo;re not alone because there are 1000s jobless in the United States.&amp;nbsp; Nonetheless if you recognize where to search it is often more simplified.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Where can you find employers? How can you find your desired local job?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Let us begin by determining your skills and accomplishments prior to you starting a job search.&amp;nbsp; Prepare to complete employment applications and get your CV ready and waiting.&amp;nbsp; There&amp;rsquo;s numerous means to discover local jobs.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Job centers provide numerous vacancies for different kinds of work. Majority of job centers update their employment board frequently.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Originally, these career centers cater to young jobseekers up to 21 years old. They arrange for appropriate job interviews, which they believe, would match your skills and abilities. Some job centers also process training vacancies and apprenticeships to young people. Today, these centers also cater adults&amp;rsquo; need of employment.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Another way to discover current job postings and advertisements is through the use of local and national newspapers to find what&amp;rsquo;s available.&amp;nbsp; To find several recent job openings go to your local library and take a look at the employment classifieds.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;If you want to stay home then just check open job listing online.&amp;nbsp; You can take a look at the positions you prefer and go through them one at a time.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Ordinarily nearly most career fields would have their own journals, magazines or periodicals.&amp;nbsp; Many hiring employers are now using these publications seeking professionals.&amp;nbsp; You are able to subscribe to these periodicals or buy them at a newsstand.&amp;nbsp; Whenever you&amp;rsquo;re looking to begin off your career that&amp;rsquo;s supported by your academic degree or background, you ought to register to professional publishing&amp;rsquo;s to increase chances getting a good job.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Using an employment agency is another way to find local job openings in a wide variety of industries.&amp;nbsp; You will find most employment agencies listed in your telephone directory.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Job vacancies can also be found at the employer&amp;rsquo;s human resource department.&amp;nbsp; Some companies actually don&amp;rsquo;t advertise in newspapers and only use internal notices for open positions.&amp;nbsp; So why not go visit some companies and request a current list of employment vacancies.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The most cost-effective way in finding local jobs is through the internet. Majority of employment agencies, newspapers, top companies, magazines and job centers have their own website. You could save time by searching through them one by one and apply for the job you prefer the most.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Being resourceful and utilizing the options presented here will save you time in search for work.&amp;nbsp; Using all of these ideas will improve your chances of finding employment.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;Now that you know more about career hunting and what you can do to increase your chances of discovering a better career, why not begin hunting for &lt;a href="http://www.jobcab.com/jobs"&gt;careers online&lt;/a&gt; at our &lt;a href="http://www.jobcab.com/"&gt;job search engine&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;Article republished from &lt;a href="http://www.copypastearticles.com/"&gt;Copy &amp;amp; Paste Articles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5653080101884737396?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5653080101884737396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5653080101884737396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5653080101884737396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5653080101884737396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-to-get-perfect-job-locally.html' title='How to Get a Perfect Job Locally'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-9073656773075956052</id><published>2008-01-29T05:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T05:35:06.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of Bran Muffins</title><content type='html'>The couple were 85 years old, and had been married for sixty years.&lt;p&gt;Though they were far from rich, they managed to get by because they watched their pennies.&lt;p&gt;Though not young, they were both in very good health, largely due to the wife&amp;#39;s insistence on healthy foods ( LOTS of bran muffins for their fiber) and exercise for the last decade.&lt;p&gt;One day, their good health didn&amp;#39;t help when they went on a rare vacation and their plane crashed, sending them off to Heaven.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;They reached the pearly gates, and St. Peter escorted them inside. He took them to a beautiful mansion, furnished in gold and fine silks, with a fully stocked kitchen and a waterfall in the master bath.  A maid could be seen hanging their favorite clothes in the closet.&lt;p&gt;They gasped in astonishment when he said, &amp;#39;Welcome to Heaven. This will be your home now.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The old man asked Peter how much all this was going to cost. &amp;#39;Why, nothing,&amp;#39; Peter replied, &amp;#39;remember, this is your reward in Heaven.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The old man looked out the window and right there he saw a championship golf course, finer and more beautiful than any ever built on Earth.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;What are the greens fees?&amp;#39;, grumbled the old man.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;This is heaven,&amp;#39; St. Peter replied. &amp;#39;You can play for free, every day.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with every imaginable cuisine laid out before them, from seafood to steaks to exotic deserts, free flowing beverages.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Don&amp;#39;t even ask,&amp;#39; said St. Peter to the man &amp;#39;This is Heaven, it is all free for you to enjoy.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The old man looked around and glanced nervously at his wife.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Well, where are the low fat and low cholesterol foods, and the decaffeinated tea?&amp;#39; he asked.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;That&amp;#39;s the best part,&amp;#39; St. Peter replied. &amp;#39;You can eat and drink as much as you like of whatever you like, and you will never get fat or sick. This is Heaven!&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The old man pushed, &amp;#39;No gym to work out at?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Not unless you want to,&amp;#39; was the answer.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;No testing my sugar or blood pressure or...&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Never again. All you do here is enjoy yourself.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The old man glared at his wife and said, &amp;#39;You and your bran muffins. We could have been here ten years ago!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-9073656773075956052?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/9073656773075956052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=9073656773075956052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9073656773075956052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9073656773075956052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/story-of-bran-muffins.html' title='The Story of Bran Muffins'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6625482151167062067</id><published>2008-01-28T22:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T22:25:16.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'>15 PIECES OF ADVICE FOR WOMAN</title><content type='html'>1. Don&amp;#39;t imagine you can change a man - unless he&amp;#39;s in nappies.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;2. What do you do if your boyfriend walks out? You shut the door.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;3. If they put a man on the moon - they should be able to put them all up there.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. Never let your man&amp;#39;s mind wander - it&amp;#39;s too little to be out alone.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;5. Go for the younger man. You might as well, they never mature anyway.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;6. Men are all the same - they just have different faces, so that you can tell them apart.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;7. Definition of a bachelor: a man who has missed the opportunity to make some woman miserable.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;8. Women don&amp;#39;t make fools of men - most of them are the do-it-yourself types.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;9. Best way to get a man to do something is to suggest he is too old for it.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;10. Love is blind, but marriage is a real eye-opener.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;11. If you want a committed man, look in a mental hospital.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;12. The children of Israel wandered around the desert for 40 years. Even in Biblical times, men wouldn&amp;#39;t ask for directions.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;13. If he asks what sort of books you&amp;#39;re interested in, tell him cheque books .&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;14. Remember a sense of humour does not mean that you tell him jokes, it means that you laugh at his.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;15. Sadly, all men are created equal!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6625482151167062067?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6625482151167062067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6625482151167062067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6625482151167062067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6625482151167062067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/15-pieces-of-advice-for-woman.html' title='15 PIECES OF ADVICE FOR WOMAN'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6195538471046308713</id><published>2008-01-27T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T13:22:43.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>21 Rules of Life</title><content type='html'>1. Marry the right person . This one decision will determine 90% of your happiness or misery.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;2. Work at something you enjoy and that&amp;#39;s worthy of your time and talent.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;3. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;4. Become the most positive and enthusiastic person you know.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;5. Be forgiving of yourself and others.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;6. Be generous.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;7. Have a grateful heart.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;8. Persistence, persistence, persistence.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;9. Discipline yourself to save money on even the most modest salary.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;10. Treat everyone you meet like you want to be treated.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;11. Commit yourself to constant improvement.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;12. Commit yourself to quality.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;13. Understand that happiness is not based on possessions, power or prestige, but on relationship with people you love and respect.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;14. Be loyal.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;15. Be honest.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;16. Be a self-starter.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;17. Be decisive even it it means you&amp;#39;ll sometimes be wrong.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;18. Stop blaming others. Take responsibility for every area of your life.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;19. Be bold and courageous. When you look back on your life, you&amp;#39;ll regret the things you didn&amp;#39;t do more than the ones you did.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;20. Take good care of those you love.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;p&gt;21. Don&amp;#39;t do anything that wouldn&amp;#39;t make your Mom proud.&lt;p&gt;*********&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6195538471046308713?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6195538471046308713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6195538471046308713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6195538471046308713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6195538471046308713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/21-rules-of-life.html' title='21 Rules of Life'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3347816110474266782</id><published>2008-01-22T22:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T22:37:18.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What are Novelty Buttons?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="articlesummary"&gt;If anyone has spent any amount of time on fashion sites or watched fashion shows on network news, they may have noticed a tiny addition to the outfits. Buttons. And I don't mean the kind that button up a shirt or dress. I mean graphic funny colorful buttons that often match the clothing. Why buttons? They are fun. They are inexpensive, they they tell a powerful message. They help with self-expression.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlebyline"&gt;By &lt;a href="http://www.copypastearticles.com/article/author/alexa-ferotina/"&gt;Alexa Ferotina&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;If anyone has spent any amount of time on fashion sites or watched fashion shows on network news, they may have noticed a tiny addition to the outfits. Buttons. And I don&amp;rsquo;t mean the kind that button up a shirt or dress. I mean graphic funny colorful buttons that often match the clothing. Why buttons?&amp;nbsp; They are fun. They are inexpensive, they they tell a powerful message. They help with self-expression.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;As a child of Woodstock, we felt that expressing ourselves, our feelings, our needs, was the most important thing. We actually had that part right, we simply did not know how to reach that goal. We left it to psuedo-gurus like Timothy Leary.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I believe The Beatles and other British originals influenced us a great deal which led us to believe we were being original by growing our hair long or braided, and the gratuitous ragged peace sign tshirt was usually the main attire.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Of course we were original in some ways. We did learn to question authority, which, until that time, was considered almost a diety in our culture.&amp;nbsp; And that was probably a good thing. It helped end a war we might have fared better to end much earlier.&amp;nbsp; Again, we were finding our way and learning to express ourselves. We did it mainly with loud music, drugs, and dressing differently.&amp;nbsp; I love going to the park with my dog, wearing a dog cartoon button and matching tshirt and cap.&amp;nbsp; Never has someone not mentioned it, usually another dog lover and thanks to a silly button, I&amp;rsquo;ve made a new friend with similar interests.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Life has changed so dramatically from when I was young.&amp;nbsp; We live in a world where it is very easy to lose one&amp;rsquo;s voice. We are constantly re-inventing ourselves.&amp;nbsp; We can make that process easier, oddly enough, with a button.&amp;nbsp; I have a collection of about forty and about 20 or so matching tshirts and caps.&amp;nbsp; A lot of people tell me they get up in the morning just to see what my combination will be.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It is a rare social or business get-together when the question of &amp;ldquo;What&amp;rsquo;s your URL?&amp;rdquo; does not come up.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We are still all social animals, though, and have a need to interact beyond the computer screen.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I love the buttons and matching merchandise at RickLondonCollection.Com. I think it is that they contain hilarious cartoons by the owner Rick London and they mix and match very well. And, being theme-oriented, they make for great conversation pieces. I have bouth a lot of other items there as well from cartoon wall clocks to aprons.&amp;nbsp; It is a very unique store.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;There are a million ways to express oneself but the most fun way is with funny buttons, tees, and caps and matching tshirts and caps &lt;a href="http://www.ricklondoncollection.com/Novelty-Buttons/"&gt;Hilarious T Shirts&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;Get &lt;a href="http://www.copypastearticles.com/"&gt;free content for your website at Copy &amp;amp; Paste Articles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3347816110474266782?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3347816110474266782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3347816110474266782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3347816110474266782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3347816110474266782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-are-novelty-buttons.html' title='What are Novelty Buttons?'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5005721757705315295</id><published>2008-01-17T02:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T02:36:19.454-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Choices for Success</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Copyright (c) 2007 Ray Miller&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s really very simple. There are two Choices if you want to be successful.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;You&amp;rsquo;ve probably heard it said before that there are many different strategies for success, that there&amp;rsquo;s not only one path, there are many.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And this is 100% true.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So you must be saying OK Ray, have you lost your mind!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Which is it, many paths or just two!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Well, there are many strategies but only two basic choices when it comes to being succesful.There so simple it&amp;rsquo;s ridiculous.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Either you act or you don&amp;rsquo;t.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s that simple. Either you&amp;rsquo;re a talker or a doer.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Nothing takes the place of action. Nothing.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;When i go to marketing or self improvement seminars I see tons of people taking notes, writing frantically and then never do anything with the amazing information being presented.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;ve even been told by some of these people that the&amp;rsquo; re hoping that they&amp;rsquo;ll act on this info instead of letting the notes collect dust.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Now to be fair, everybody has been in this place in one or more areas in life at any given time.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;ve been there.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Many times!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s a painful place to be, searching for the one thing that will be the &amp;ldquo;answer&amp;rdquo; or &amp;ldquo;secret&amp;rdquo; that will be the way to success.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Meanwhile, that one thing has been inside of you all along.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It isn&amp;rsquo;t out there somewhere.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So before you try the next big thing that will give you more money or more business try this simple formula :&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The next time you read a book, listen to a tape or attend a seminar pick one strategy even if it&amp;rsquo;s a a small one, and apply it right away!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Don&amp;rsquo;t wait and don&amp;rsquo;t try anything else until you achieved a certain benefit from the strategy.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Get really good at it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In fact, master it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Just one area.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;For instance, if you have a Internet business and it&amp;rsquo;s Internet marketing you want to master pick one technique for getting traffic to your web site.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Say it&amp;rsquo;s article writing and submission.Just keep learning everything you possibly can and start writing and submitting until you get consistent positive results. To the point you don&amp;rsquo;t have to think it about it. It just becomes automatic.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;At this point. you&amp;rsquo;re ready to get good at another traffic technique, and before you know it you&amp;rsquo;re mastering several ways to get traffic and you&amp;rsquo;re business is thriving.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Even if you took action for a year and nothing happened you&amp;rsquo;ll learn a heck of a lot. And the next year will be ten times better, and before you know it you&amp;rsquo;ll be reaching your goals instead of talking about them.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And, the best part is, when you develop the habit of action,  success become easier.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;All because you made the choice to take action, pick an area and master it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So which type of person are you?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;You can change it in any given moment.With a little initiative, focus and persistence, this simple strategy will no doubt improve your results and you&amp;rsquo;ll be more successful in any area of your life.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;Ray Miller is a self improvement expert and coach. He teaches and inspires people in all walks of life, how to achieve ultimate success and fufillment. To get his FREE report, 5 Simple Steps to Ultimate Success, just go to: &lt;a href="http://successtipsdaily.com/"&gt;http://successtipsdaily.com/&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;Get &lt;a href="http://www.copypastearticles.com/"&gt;free content for your website at Copy &amp;amp; Paste Articles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5005721757705315295?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5005721757705315295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5005721757705315295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5005721757705315295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5005721757705315295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/two-choices-for-success.html' title='Two Choices for Success'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1199056085711493583</id><published>2008-01-16T04:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T04:38:11.851-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Computer Program Code</title><content type='html'>CREATE PROCEDURE MyMarriage&lt;br&gt;@ BrideGroom Char(NotBad) ,&lt;br&gt;@ Bride Char(Good)&lt;br&gt;AS&lt;br&gt;BEGIN&lt;br&gt;SELECT Bride FROM india_ Brides&lt;br&gt;WHERE FatherInLaw = &amp;#39;Millionaire&amp;#39;   AND CarCount &amp;gt; 2   AND HouseStatus&lt;br&gt;=&amp;#39;ThreeStoreyed&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;AND BrideEduStatus= &amp;#39;B.TECH or BE or Degree or MCA or MBA&amp;#39;   AND&lt;br&gt;HavingBrothers= &amp;#39;NO&amp;#39;   AND HavingSisters =&amp;#39;No&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;AND AllowRelocate =&amp;#39;YES&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;SELECT Gold ,Cash,Car,BankBalance FROM FatherInLaw&lt;br&gt;UPDATE MyBankAccout SET MyBal = MyBal + FatherInLawBal&lt;br&gt;UPDATE MyLocker SET MyLockerContents = MyLockerContents +&lt;br&gt;FatherInLawGold&lt;br&gt;INSERT INTO MyCarShed VALUES (&amp;#39;BMW&amp;#39;)&lt;br&gt;END&lt;br&gt;GO&lt;p&gt;Then the wife writes the below query:&lt;p&gt;DROP HUSBAND;&lt;br&gt;Commit;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1199056085711493583?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1199056085711493583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1199056085711493583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1199056085711493583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1199056085711493583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/funny-computer-program-code.html' title='Funny Computer Program Code'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6015900709069153449</id><published>2008-01-15T05:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T05:04:12.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken English</title><content type='html'>In Tamilnadu, there is a well known person by name, Mr. Jeppier;&lt;br&gt;Chairman of Sathyabama deemed university and some more self financing&lt;br&gt;colleges, always speaks in English. That college students have&lt;br&gt;collected &amp;amp; published a book by name &amp;quot;Jappier&amp;#39;s Spoken English&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;.... Njoy ...........with his......... .....English. ......... ....&lt;p&gt;Now, here are some classic English sentences from the great&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Jappier&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;Spoken English&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;# At the ground:&lt;br&gt;------------ -----&lt;br&gt;All of you stand in a straight circle.&lt;br&gt;There is no wind in the balloon.&lt;br&gt;The girl with the mirror please comes her...{Means: girl with specs&lt;br&gt;please come here).&lt;p&gt;# To a boy, angrily:&lt;br&gt;------------ ---------&lt;br&gt;I talk, he talk, why you middle middle talk?&lt;p&gt;# While punishing students:&lt;br&gt;------------ --------- --&lt;br&gt;You, rotate the ground four times...&lt;br&gt;You, go and understand the tree...&lt;br&gt;You three of you stand together separately.&lt;br&gt;Why are you late - say YES or NO .....(?)&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;# While addressing students about Dress Code: (he is very strict abt&lt;br&gt;this )&lt;br&gt;------------ --------- --&lt;br&gt;Every body should wear dress  to college&lt;br&gt;Boys no proplum&lt;br&gt;Girls are pig proplum . (pig=big)&lt;br&gt;Girls should wear only slawar no nitee.&lt;br&gt;Girls should not wear T sirt ,U shirt,V shirt.. but if you want to&lt;br&gt;wear .... remove it when inside the campus and put it oout side the&lt;br&gt;campus&lt;p&gt;# Sir at his best inside the Class room:&lt;br&gt;------------ --------- --------- --------- -------&lt;br&gt;Open the doors of the window. Let the atmosphere come in.&lt;br&gt;Open the doors of the window. Let the Air Force come in.&lt;br&gt;Cut an apple into two halves - I will take the bigger half.&lt;br&gt;Shhh...Quiet, boys...the principal JUST PASSED AWAY in the corridor&lt;br&gt;You, meet me behind the class. (Meaning AFTER the class..)&lt;br&gt;This one is cool &amp;gt;&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Both of u three get out of the class.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Close the doors of the windows please. I have winter in my nose&lt;br&gt;today...&lt;br&gt;Take Copper Wire of any metal especially of Silver.....&lt;br&gt;Take 5 cm wire of any length....&lt;p&gt;Last but not the least some Jeppiar experiences ...&lt;p&gt;Once Sir had come late to a college function, by the time he reached,&lt;br&gt;the function had begun, so he went to the dais, and said, sorry I am&lt;br&gt;late, because on the way my car hit 2 muttons (Meaning goats).&lt;p&gt;At Sathyabama college day 2002:&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;This college strict u the worry no .... U get good marks, I the&lt;br&gt;happy, tomorrow u get good job, jpr the happy, tomorrow u marry I the&lt;br&gt;enjoy&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;At St. Josephs college of engineering fresh years day 2003:&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;No ragging this college. Anybody rag we arrest the police &amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6015900709069153449?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6015900709069153449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6015900709069153449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6015900709069153449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6015900709069153449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/broken-english.html' title='Broken English'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7813276875835241840</id><published>2008-01-12T05:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T05:34:03.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interview with a Cartoonist</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Being funny is not necessarily something with which someone is born. No, it does not hurt, but it it can prevent some major hurdles.  In a nutshell, before one even thinks about trying to become funny, that is, if they are naturally not funny, is to learn about editing, and the fact that other people want the punch line and want it fast.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;To be honest, growing up, I thought I was a bit of a shy slug and I don&amp;rsquo;t think I was that far off.  Being funny was the last thing on my mind, though I do remember now and then trying to impress my female classmates with some bad attempts at humor.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Though humor is subjective, it is also quick. Nobody has time to listen to a life story before getting to a punch line. Any humorist, no matter what their genre knows that being brief is being professional. Tell the joke or create the cartoon or one liner or whatever the venue, and get on to the next.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I considered Shakespeare&amp;rsquo;s famous line, &amp;ldquo;Brevity is the soul of wit&amp;rdquo;. Even then, he had the insight to know that people&amp;rsquo;s attention spans are short. Sure, they want to hear your joke or funny story, but they also have other things on their mind.  Even if they think something is funny, if it is long-winded, and takes too much of their time, they may consider you &amp;ldquo;funny&amp;rdquo;, but chances are they won&amp;rsquo;t come back for more of your humor.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Consider the cartoonist and humor writer. That would be me.  I created a single panel cartoon called Londons Times Cartoons in 1997.  I based it on the Shakesperian theory that humor was and is the soul of wit. No long drawn out captions. Sometimes no captions at all. The picture would tell the story. It was an experiment. It was off the wall.  That year, I posted less than a hundred cartoons on my website. Though I had thought of many others, those were the ones that past the litany test of &amp;ldquo;what is funny&amp;rdquo; to me.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Ten years later I have one of the most visited cartoon sites on the Internet and over 8500 single panel cartoons.  So how did it all happen?  It was a process, doc.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I don&amp;rsquo;t think there is just one road toward making something like that happen.  In my case, it was mainly listening to other people whom I felt were funny, reading autobiographies of funny persons, and studying humor. I watched sitcoms. I went to funny movies. I noticed one-liners in real life were really not much different than one liners in a cartoon.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I liked what I heard and it was easy to repeat. Instant value.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Another element of &amp;ldquo;being funny&amp;rdquo; at least in the marketplace is to find one&amp;rsquo;s niche or voice. Sometimes that can take time.  A lot of time. In my case, I tried stand-up comedy, acting and other such venues for a number of years. The problem was that I didn&amp;rsquo;t understand the art well and was not able to perfect it to the degree to which I wanted.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So I tried writing, and I finally settled for cartooning.  I had read the late great Charles Schulz&amp;rsquo;s autobiography in which he said the reason he went into cartooning is because he couldn&amp;rsquo;t do much else very well.  That was the story of my life.  If it is the story of yours, it is never to late to develop your sense of humor.  Listen, read, learn, and have a leap of faith....and oh, and don&amp;rsquo;t be afraid to look foolish. They may just laugh at you yet.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;To see the huge body of creative panel comics created by Rick London and his team, point your browser &lt;a href="http://www.londonstimes.us/Rick%20Londons%20Cartoons/"&gt;Funny Cartoon Site&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.londonstimes.us/archive/"&gt;Cartoon Archive&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="articlefooter"&gt;Get &lt;a href="http://www.copypastearticles.com/"&gt;free content for your website at Copy &amp;amp; Paste Articles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7813276875835241840?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7813276875835241840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7813276875835241840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7813276875835241840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7813276875835241840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/interview-with-cartoonist.html' title='Interview with a Cartoonist'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2028184063289097774</id><published>2008-01-02T14:16:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T14:16:15.508-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of Butch O' Hare</title><content type='html'>During the course of World War II, many people gained fame in one&lt;br&gt;way or another. One man was Butch O&amp;#39;Hare. He was a fighter pilot&lt;br&gt;assigned to an aircraft carrier in the Pacific. One time his entire&lt;br&gt;squadron was assigned to fly a particular mission. After he was&lt;br&gt;airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had&lt;br&gt;forgotten to top off his fuel tank. Because of this, he would not have&lt;br&gt;enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.&lt;p&gt;His flight leader told him to leave formation and return. As he was&lt;br&gt;returning to the mother ship, he could see a squadron of Japanese&lt;br&gt;Zeroes heading toward the fleet to attack. And with all the fighter&lt;br&gt;planes gone, the fleet was almost defenceless. His was the only&lt;br&gt;opportunity to distract and divert them. Single-handily, he dove into&lt;br&gt;the formation of Japanese planes and attacked them. The American&lt;br&gt;fighter planes were rigged with cameras, so that as they flew and&lt;br&gt;fought, pictures were taken so pilots could learn more about the&lt;br&gt;terrain, enemy manoeuvres, etc.&lt;p&gt;Butch dove at them and shot until all his ammunition was gone, then&lt;br&gt;he would dive and try to clip off a&lt;br&gt;wing or tail or anything that would make the enemy planes unfit to fly.&lt;br&gt;He did anything he could to keep them from reaching the American&lt;br&gt;ships. Finally, the Japanese squadron took off in another direction,&lt;br&gt;and Butch O&amp;#39; Hare and his fighter, both badly shot up, limped back to&lt;br&gt;the carrier. He told his story, but not until the film from the camera on&lt;br&gt;his plane was developed, did they realize the extent he really went to,&lt;br&gt;to protect his fleet. He was recognized as a hero and given one of the&lt;br&gt;nation&amp;#39;s highest military honours. And as you may know, O&amp;#39;Hare&lt;br&gt;Airport was named after him.&lt;p&gt;Prior to this time in Chicago, there was a man called Easy Eddie. He&lt;br&gt;was working for a man Al Capone. Al Capone wasn&amp;#39;t famous for&lt;br&gt;anything heroic, but he was notorious for the murders he&amp;#39;d committed&lt;br&gt;and the illegal thing&amp;#39;s he&amp;#39;d done. Easy Eddie was Al Capone&amp;#39;s lawyer&lt;br&gt;and he was very good. In fact, because of his skill, he was able to&lt;br&gt;keep Al Capone out of jail. To show his appreciation, Al Capone paid&lt;br&gt;him very well. He not only earned big money, he would get extra&lt;br&gt;things, like a residence that filled an entire Chicago city block.&lt;p&gt;The house was fenced, and he had live-in help and all of the&lt;br&gt;conveniences of the day. Easy Eddie had a son. He loved his son&lt;br&gt;and gave him all the best things while he was growing up, - clothes,&lt;br&gt;cars, and a good education. And, because he loved his son he tried&lt;br&gt;to teach him right from wrong. But one thing he couldn&amp;#39;t give his son&lt;br&gt;was a good name, and a good example. Easy Eddie decided that this&lt;br&gt;was much more important than all the riches he had given him. So, he&lt;br&gt;went to the authorities in order to rectify the wrong he had done.&lt;p&gt;In order to tell the truth, it meant he must testify against Al Capone, and&lt;br&gt;he knew that Al Capone would do his best to have him killed. But he&lt;br&gt;wanted most of all to try to be an example and to do the best he could&lt;br&gt;to give back to his son, a good name. So he testified. Within the year,&lt;br&gt;he was shot and killed on a lonely street in Chicago. These sound like&lt;br&gt;two unrelated stories, but Butch O&amp;#39;Hare was Easy Eddie&amp;#39;s son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2028184063289097774?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2028184063289097774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2028184063289097774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2028184063289097774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2028184063289097774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/story-of-butch-o-hare_02.html' title='The Story of Butch O&apos; Hare'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6553144527093473761</id><published>2008-01-02T14:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T14:16:12.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of Butch O' Hare</title><content type='html'>During the course of World War II, many people gained fame in one&lt;br&gt;way or another. One man was Butch O&amp;#39;Hare. He was a fighter pilot&lt;br&gt;assigned to an aircraft carrier in the Pacific. One time his entire&lt;br&gt;squadron was assigned to fly a particular mission. After he was&lt;br&gt;airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had&lt;br&gt;forgotten to top off his fuel tank. Because of this, he would not have&lt;br&gt;enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship.&lt;p&gt;His flight leader told him to leave formation and return. As he was&lt;br&gt;returning to the mother ship, he could see a squadron of Japanese&lt;br&gt;Zeroes heading toward the fleet to attack. And with all the fighter&lt;br&gt;planes gone, the fleet was almost defenceless. His was the only&lt;br&gt;opportunity to distract and divert them. Single-handily, he dove into&lt;br&gt;the formation of Japanese planes and attacked them. The American&lt;br&gt;fighter planes were rigged with cameras, so that as they flew and&lt;br&gt;fought, pictures were taken so pilots could learn more about the&lt;br&gt;terrain, enemy manoeuvres, etc.&lt;p&gt;Butch dove at them and shot until all his ammunition was gone, then&lt;br&gt;he would dive and try to clip off a&lt;br&gt;wing or tail or anything that would make the enemy planes unfit to fly.&lt;br&gt;He did anything he could to keep them from reaching the American&lt;br&gt;ships. Finally, the Japanese squadron took off in another direction,&lt;br&gt;and Butch O&amp;#39; Hare and his fighter, both badly shot up, limped back to&lt;br&gt;the carrier. He told his story, but not until the film from the camera on&lt;br&gt;his plane was developed, did they realize the extent he really went to,&lt;br&gt;to protect his fleet. He was recognized as a hero and given one of the&lt;br&gt;nation&amp;#39;s highest military honours. And as you may know, O&amp;#39;Hare&lt;br&gt;Airport was named after him.&lt;p&gt;Prior to this time in Chicago, there was a man called Easy Eddie. He&lt;br&gt;was working for a man Al Capone. Al Capone wasn&amp;#39;t famous for&lt;br&gt;anything heroic, but he was notorious for the murders he&amp;#39;d committed&lt;br&gt;and the illegal thing&amp;#39;s he&amp;#39;d done. Easy Eddie was Al Capone&amp;#39;s lawyer&lt;br&gt;and he was very good. In fact, because of his skill, he was able to&lt;br&gt;keep Al Capone out of jail. To show his appreciation, Al Capone paid&lt;br&gt;him very well. He not only earned big money, he would get extra&lt;br&gt;things, like a residence that filled an entire Chicago city block.&lt;p&gt;The house was fenced, and he had live-in help and all of the&lt;br&gt;conveniences of the day. Easy Eddie had a son. He loved his son&lt;br&gt;and gave him all the best things while he was growing up, - clothes,&lt;br&gt;cars, and a good education. And, because he loved his son he tried&lt;br&gt;to teach him right from wrong. But one thing he couldn&amp;#39;t give his son&lt;br&gt;was a good name, and a good example. Easy Eddie decided that this&lt;br&gt;was much more important than all the riches he had given him. So, he&lt;br&gt;went to the authorities in order to rectify the wrong he had done.&lt;p&gt;In order to tell the truth, it meant he must testify against Al Capone, and&lt;br&gt;he knew that Al Capone would do his best to have him killed. But he&lt;br&gt;wanted most of all to try to be an example and to do the best he could&lt;br&gt;to give back to his son, a good name. So he testified. Within the year,&lt;br&gt;he was shot and killed on a lonely street in Chicago. These sound like&lt;br&gt;two unrelated stories, but Butch O&amp;#39;Hare was Easy Eddie&amp;#39;s son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6553144527093473761?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6553144527093473761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6553144527093473761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6553144527093473761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6553144527093473761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/story-of-butch-o-hare.html' title='The Story of Butch O&apos; Hare'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8541807130621461567</id><published>2008-01-01T14:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T14:16:12.669-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of a Zen Master</title><content type='html'>When the great Sufi mystic, Hasan, was dying, somebody asked&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Hasan, who was your master?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;He said, &amp;quot;I had thousands of masters. If I just relate their names it will&lt;br&gt;take months, years and it is too late. But three masters I will certainly&lt;br&gt;tell you about.&lt;p&gt;One was a thief. Once I got lost in the desert, and when I reached a&lt;br&gt;village it was very late, everything was closed. But at last I found one&lt;br&gt;man who was trying to make a hole in the wall of a house. I asked&lt;br&gt;him where I could stay and he said &amp;#39;At this time of night it will be&lt;br&gt;difficult, but you can stay with me - if you can stay with a thief&amp;#39;. And&lt;br&gt;the man was so beautiful. I stayed for one month! And each night he&lt;br&gt;would say to me, &amp;#39;Now I am going to my work. You rest, you pray.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;When he came back I would ask &amp;#39;Could you get anything?&amp;#39; He would&lt;br&gt;say, &amp;#39;Not tonight. But tomorrow I will try again, God willing.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;He was never in a state of hopelessness, he was always happy. When I was&lt;br&gt;meditating and meditating for years on end and nothing was&lt;br&gt;happening, many times the moment came when I was so desperate,&lt;br&gt;so hopeless, that I thought to stop all this nonsense. And suddenly I&lt;br&gt;would remember the thief who would say every night, &amp;#39;God willing,&lt;br&gt;tomorrow it is going to happen.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;And my second master was a dog. I was going to the river, thirsty and&lt;br&gt;a dog came. He was also thirsty. He looked into the river, he saw&lt;br&gt;another dog there -- his own image -- and became afraid. He would&lt;br&gt;bard and run away, but his thirst was so much that he would come&lt;br&gt;back. Finally, despite his fear, he just jumped into the water, and the&lt;br&gt;image disappeared. And I knew that a message had come to me from&lt;br&gt;God: one has to jump in spite of all fears.&lt;p&gt;And the third master was a small child. I entered a town and a child&lt;br&gt;was carrying a lit candle. He was going to the mosque to put the&lt;br&gt;candle there. &amp;#39;Just joking,&amp;#39; I asked the boy, &amp;#39;have you lit the candle&lt;br&gt;yourself?&amp;#39; He said, &amp;#39;Yes sir.&amp;#39; And I asked, &amp;#39;There was a moment when&lt;br&gt;the candle was unlit, and then there was a moment when the candle&lt;br&gt;was lit. Can you show me the source from which the light came?&amp;#39; And&lt;br&gt;the boy laughed, blew out the candle, and said, &amp;#39;Now you have seen&lt;br&gt;the light going. Where has it gone? You will tell me!&amp;#39; My ego was&lt;br&gt;shattered; my whole knowledge was shattered. And that moment I felt&lt;br&gt;my own stupidity. Since then I dropped all my knowledge ability.&lt;br&gt;It is true that I had no master. That does not mean that I was not a&lt;br&gt;disciple -- I accepted the whole existence as my master.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;My Disciple hood was a greater involvement than yours is.&lt;br&gt;I trusted the clouds, the trees.&lt;br&gt;I trusted existence as such.&lt;br&gt;I had no master because I had millions of masters&lt;br&gt;I learned from every possible source.&lt;br&gt;To be a disciple is a must on the path.&lt;p&gt;What does it mean to be a disciple?&lt;br&gt;It means to be able to learn, to be available to learn,&lt;br&gt;to be vulnerable to existence.&lt;p&gt;With a master you start learning to learn.&lt;p&gt;The master is a swimming pool where you can learn how to&lt;br&gt;swim. Once you have learned, all the oceans are yours.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8541807130621461567?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8541807130621461567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8541807130621461567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8541807130621461567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8541807130621461567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/story-of-zen-master.html' title='The Story of a Zen Master'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2554442839715540854</id><published>2008-01-01T02:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T02:10:19.621-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Selfishness Destructs You</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there lived a Bharunda, a bird with two heads. One day it found a strange fruit on the seashore. It picked it up and started eating it. The head that was feeding, exclaimed, &amp;quot;Many a sweet fruit tossed by the sea have I eaten, but this beats them all! Is it the fruit of a sandalwood tree or that of the divine parijata?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Hearing this, the other head asked to taste the fruit, but the first head refused, saying, &amp;quot;We have a common stomach, so there&amp;#39;s no need for you to eat it too. I&amp;#39;ll give it to our sweetheart, the Bharundi,&amp;quot; and with that, it tossed the half-eaten fruit to the female.&lt;p&gt;From that day on, the second head carried a grudge against the first and waited for an opportunity to take revenge. One day it found a poison fruit. Picking up the fruit, it said to the first head, &amp;quot;You selfish wretch! See, here&amp;#39;s a poison fruit and I&amp;#39;m going to eat it!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Don&amp;#39;t do that, you fool!&amp;quot; shrieked the first head, &amp;quot;you&amp;#39;ll kill us both!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;But the second head would not listen. It consumed the poison and soon the two-headed bird was dead.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#226;&amp;quot;A tale from the Panchatantra&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2554442839715540854?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2554442839715540854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2554442839715540854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2554442839715540854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2554442839715540854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2008/01/selfishness-destructs-you.html' title='Selfishness Destructs You'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1882433024685342132</id><published>2007-12-30T16:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T16:18:12.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to write Employee Recommendation Letters</title><content type='html'>Have to write a letter of recommendation for that fired employee?&lt;br&gt;Here are a few suggested phrases:&lt;p&gt;For the chronically absent:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;A man like him is hard to find.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;It seemed her career was just taking off.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;For the office drunk:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;I feel his real talent is wasted here.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;We generally found him loaded with work to do.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Every hour with him was a happy hour.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;For an employee with no ambition:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;He could not care less about the number of hours he had to put in.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;You would indeed be fortunate to get this person to work for you.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;He consistently achieves the low standards he sets for himself.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;For an employee who is so unproductive that the job is better left unfilled:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;I can assure you that no person would be better for the job.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;For an employee who is not worth further consideration as a job candidate:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;I would urge you to waste no time in making this candidate an offer of employment.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;All in all, I cannot say enough good things about this candidate or recommend him too highly.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;For a stupid employee:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;There is nothing you can teach a man like him.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;I most enthusiastically recommend this candidate with no qualifications whatsoever.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;For a dishonest employee:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Her true ability was deceiving.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;He&amp;#39;s an unbelievable worker.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1882433024685342132?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1882433024685342132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1882433024685342132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1882433024685342132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1882433024685342132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/how-to-write-employee-recommendation.html' title='How to write Employee Recommendation Letters'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8558727272495906355</id><published>2007-12-29T15:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T15:17:15.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How boys woe girls in Orkut</title><content type='html'>1. hi nice pictures ...u in tat saree.try wearin a white or Red saree u will look amazing..bye ...tc..do reply me&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. Hi. U look really awesome in the Photo and inside in the album in Saree. u look lik a tradional angel. i hav crossed ur profile once bfore, found intersting woman. can i b a part of ur friendship circle yar&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;3. hi!!!!!!!!!this is mani 4rm chennai!!!!!!&lt;br&gt;int in bein ma friend then jus giv me a scrap dood!!!&lt;br&gt;well ab me!!!!I can sya that..........its upto ya !!!!B ma freind and know abt me dood!!!!!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;4. hello girlie!!!!!how r things wid u???am an engg guy who&amp;#39;s IGNORING BOOKS and trying 2 orkut wid u...how abt uuuuuu???&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;5. Hi,how r u......ur so cute!!!!more if ur in my friends list!!!!will u!!!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;6. U looking Mallika Sheravathi looking Imran aasmiCome let us murder the world&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;7. hey annikku Ravi yoda b&amp;#39;day party la Krishna voda vandha Janani yoda school friend Ramya voda boy friend Sriram voda girl friend Anitha voda class mate Vanitha dhaaney nee???Hi..&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;8.Hi!if u retain this scrap I will understand that you are interested in meandif u delete this scrap, it means you are dreaming about me.Now u decide wat to do&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;9. hi,the numerical value of L+O+V+E=54 but the numerical value of F+R+I+E+N+S+H+I+P= 10854+54= 108 LOVE+LOVE= FRIENDSHIP so friendship is two times greater than love.............so will u be my friend ?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;10.heyyy gal,Barcelona hav won the champions league finals!hurraaaayyyy!!!! come on lets be friends....&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;11 .generally i never scrap to unknown ones but this pic just caught my eye...awesome pic gal.kalakita po.. lol&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;12. hi niki.. well can i expect a scrap back from ya..well thought u are a person who can read and write... is it true.,... ?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;13.If u add me in ur list ill make ur life more pleasant and colorful...watsay?scrap me bak if u wannna be ma friend!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;14.Scrap- Eyy black beauty,how are you so fair???If you don&amp;#39;t add me its very unfair...&lt;p&gt;15.Nice face, sexy smile, beautiful Eyes, Lustful Lips....Overall stunning effect...But Miss Do i know you??? Dont embarass me by saying-u dont know me..ya i know u dont know me.. but who bothers??come on-add me as friend..am waiting 2 b ur fan...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8558727272495906355?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8558727272495906355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8558727272495906355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8558727272495906355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8558727272495906355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/how-boys-woe-girls-in-orkut.html' title='How boys woe girls in Orkut'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8542875915736748945</id><published>2007-12-29T04:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T04:16:20.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Jokes</title><content type='html'>On the first day of school, the Kindergarten teacher said, &amp;quot;If anyone has to go to the bathroom, hold up two fingers.&amp;quot; A little voice from the back of the room asked, &amp;quot;How will that help?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;A three-year old went with his dad to see a litter of kittens. On returning home, he breathlessly informed his mother there were two boy kittens and two girl kittens. &amp;quot;how did you know?&amp;quot; his mother asked. &amp;quot;Daddy picked them up and looked underneath,&amp;quot; he replied. &amp;quot;I think it&amp;#39;s printed on the bottom.&lt;p&gt;A father was helping one of his little twins say his evening prayers. &amp;quot;Bless us to be good so we can return unto Thee.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Bless us to be good so we can turn on the TV.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Another three-year old put his shoes on by himself. His mother noticed the left was on the right foot. She said, &amp;quot;Son, your shoes are on the wrong feet.&amp;quot; He looked up at her with a raised brow and said, &amp;quot;Don&amp;#39;t kid me, Mom. I KNOW they&amp;#39;re my feet.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8542875915736748945?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8542875915736748945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8542875915736748945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8542875915736748945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8542875915736748945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/kids-jokes.html' title='Kids Jokes'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4580807970733862600</id><published>2007-12-28T09:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T09:16:14.569-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun:20 Tips for Women (To understand Men)</title><content type='html'>1. Never do housework. No man ever loved a woman because the house was spotless.&lt;p&gt;2. Remember: you are known by the idiot you accompany.&lt;p&gt;3. Don&amp;#39;t imagine you can change a man - unless he&amp;#39;s in diapers.&lt;p&gt;4. What do you do if your boyfriend walks out? You shut the door.&lt;p&gt;5. So many men - so many reasons not to date any of them.&lt;p&gt;6. If they put a man on the moon, they should be able to put them all there.&lt;p&gt;7. Tell him you&amp;#39;re not his type - you have a pulse.&lt;p&gt;8. Never let your man&amp;#39;s mind wander. It&amp;#39;s too little to be let out alone.&lt;p&gt;9. Go for younger men. You might as well. They never mature anyway.&lt;p&gt;10. Men are all the same. They just have different faces so you can tell them apart.&lt;p&gt;11. Definition of a bachelor: a man who has missed the opportunity to make some woman miserable.&lt;p&gt;12. Women don&amp;#39;t make fools of men. Most of them are the do-it-yourself types.&lt;p&gt;13. The best way to get a man to do something is to suggest they are too old for it.&lt;p&gt;14. Love is blind, but marriage is a real eye-opener.&lt;p&gt;15. If you want a committed man, look in a mental hospital.&lt;p&gt;16. The children of Israel wandered around the desert for 40 years. Even in biblical times, men wouldn&amp;#39;t ask for directions.&lt;p&gt;17. If he asks what sort of books you&amp;#39;re interested in, tell him checkbooks.&lt;p&gt;18. Remember a sense of humor does not mean that you tell him jokes, it means you laugh at his.&lt;p&gt;19. Sadly, all men are created equal.&lt;p&gt;20. When he asks you if he&amp;#39;s your first date, tell him &amp;quot;You may be, you look  familiar. &amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4580807970733862600?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4580807970733862600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4580807970733862600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4580807970733862600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4580807970733862600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/fun20-tips-for-women-to-understand-men.html' title='Fun:20 Tips for Women (To understand Men)'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5476068587712049728</id><published>2007-12-27T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T15:49:35.671-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My son is mischiveous</title><content type='html'>MAN 2 ANOTHER MAN:&amp;quot;BOYS R GETTING VERY MISCHIEVOUS DESE DAYS&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;OTHER 1:&amp;quot;HMM......U R RITE&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;FIRST MAN:&amp;quot;DO U&amp;#39;VE A SON??&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;ANOTHER MAN:&amp;quot;YES&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;FIRST:HE SURELY DO SUMTHING MISCHIEVOUS???&lt;br&gt;ANOTHER:&amp;quot;NOO!!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;FIRST:&amp;quot;HE SURELY DO SMOKING??&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;ANOTHER:&amp;quot;NO&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;FIRST:&amp;quot;HE SURELY CRACK DA WINDOWS OF NEIGHBOURS BY THROWING BALSS??&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;ANOTHER:&amp;quot;NO&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;FIRST:&amp;quot;WAT A GUD BOY IS UR SON!!!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;ANOTHER:&amp;quot;YEAH...HE SURE IS&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;FIRST:&amp;quot;BTW WAT IS THE AGE OF UR SON?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;ANOTHER:&amp;quot;HE IS JUST OF 2 MONTHS!!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5476068587712049728?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5476068587712049728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5476068587712049728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5476068587712049728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5476068587712049728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-son-is-mischiveous.html' title='My son is mischiveous'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6314642915987486285</id><published>2007-12-26T16:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T16:10:12.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big John doesn't pay</title><content type='html'>One fine day, a bus driver went to the bus garage, started his bus,and drove off along the route. No problems for the first few stops-a few people got on, a few got off, and things went generally well.&lt;br&gt;At the next stop, however, a big hulk of a guy got on. Six feet eight, built like a wrestler, arms hanging down to the ground. He glared at the driver and said, &amp;quot;Big John doesn&amp;#39;t pay!&amp;quot; and sat down at the back.&lt;p&gt;Did I mention that the driver was five feet three, thin, and basically meek? Well, he was. Naturally, he didn&amp;#39;t argue with Big John, but he wasn&amp;#39;t happy about it.&lt;p&gt;The next day the same thing happened-Big John got on again, made a show of refusing to pay, and sat down. And the next day, and the one after that, and so forth. This grated on the bus driver, who started losing sleep over the way Big John was taking advantage of him.&lt;p&gt;Finally he could stand it no longer. He signed up for body building courses, karate, judo, and all that good stuff. By the end of the summer, he had become quite strong; what&amp;#39;s more, he felt really good about himself.&lt;p&gt;So on the next Monday, when Big John once again got on the bus and said, &amp;quot;Big John doesn&amp;#39;t pay!,&amp;quot; the driver stood up, glared back at the passenger and screamed, &amp;quot;And why not?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;With a surprised look on his face, Big John replied, &amp;quot;Big John has a bus pass.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Be sure there is a problem in the first place before working hard to solve one.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6314642915987486285?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6314642915987486285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6314642915987486285' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6314642915987486285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6314642915987486285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/big-john-doesnt-pay.html' title='Big John doesn&apos;t pay'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6231337546894149459</id><published>2007-12-26T01:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T01:10:59.881-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kid's Joke</title><content type='html'>To return the next day to tell their stories.&lt;p&gt; In the classroom the next day, Joe gave his example&lt;br&gt;First, &amp;quot; My dad is a farmer and we have chickens. One&lt;br&gt;Day we were taking lots of eggs to market in a basket&lt;br&gt;On the front seat of the truck when we hit a big bump&lt;br&gt;In the road; the basket fell off the seat and all the&lt;br&gt;Eggs broke. The moral of the story is not to put all&lt;br&gt;Your eggs in one basket..&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Very good,&amp;quot; said the teacher.&lt;p&gt; Next, Mary said, &amp;quot; We are farmers too. We had twenty&lt;br&gt;Eggs waiting to hatch, but when they did we only got&lt;br&gt;Ten chicks. The moral of this story is not to count&lt;br&gt;Your chickens before they&amp;#39;re hatched ..&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Very good,&amp;quot; said the teacher again, very pleased with&lt;br&gt;The response so far.&lt;p&gt; Next it was Barney&amp;#39;s turn to tell his story: &amp;quot; My dad&lt;br&gt;Told me this story about my Aunt Karen.... Aunt Karen&lt;br&gt;Was a flight engineer in the war and her plane got&lt;br&gt;Hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory and all&lt;br&gt;She had was a bottle of whiskey, a machine gun and a&lt;br&gt;Machete.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;  &amp;quot; Go on,&amp;quot; said the teacher, intrigued.&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Aunt Karen drank the whiskey on the way down to&lt;br&gt;Prepare herself; then she landed right in the middle&lt;br&gt;Of a hundred enemy soldiers. She killed seventy of&lt;br&gt;Them with the machine gun until she ran out of&lt;br&gt;Bullets. Then she killed twenty more with the machete&lt;br&gt;Till the blade broke. And then she killed the last ten&lt;br&gt;With her bare hands.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Good heavens,&amp;quot; said the horrified teacher, &amp;quot; What did&lt;br&gt;Your father say was the moral of that frightening&lt;br&gt;Story?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot;Stay away from Aunt Karen when she&amp;#39;s drunk&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6231337546894149459?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6231337546894149459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6231337546894149459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6231337546894149459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6231337546894149459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/kids-joke.html' title='Kid&apos;s Joke'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3577140842622936579</id><published>2007-12-25T03:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T03:48:18.882-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Tips to Stay Young Forever</title><content type='html'>1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and&lt;br&gt;height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay them.&lt;p&gt;2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.&lt;p&gt;3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts,&lt;br&gt;gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. &amp;quot;An idle mind is the&lt;br&gt;devil&amp;#39;s workshop.&amp;quot; And the devil&amp;#39;s name is Alzheimer&amp;#39;s.&lt;p&gt;4. Enjoy the simple things.&lt;p&gt;5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.&lt;p&gt;6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person&lt;br&gt;who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are&lt;br&gt;alive.&lt;p&gt;7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it&amp;#39;s family,&lt;br&gt;pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your&lt;br&gt;refuge.&lt;p&gt;8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is&lt;br&gt;unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.&lt;p&gt;9 Don&amp;#39;t take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the&lt;br&gt;next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.&lt;p&gt;10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every&lt;br&gt;opportunity.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;11. Keep thanking God every moment that he made for us to enjoy (Special thanks to Tanushree!)&lt;p&gt;AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:&lt;p&gt;Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the&lt;br&gt;moments that take our breath away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3577140842622936579?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3577140842622936579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3577140842622936579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3577140842622936579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3577140842622936579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/ten-tips-to-stay-young-forever.html' title='Ten Tips to Stay Young Forever'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5940793871738840906</id><published>2007-12-24T05:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T05:20:13.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You gotta love Kids!</title><content type='html'>The boss of a big company needed to call one of his employees about an&lt;br&gt;urgent problem with one of the main computers. He dialed the employees&lt;br&gt;home phone number and was greeted with a child&amp;#39;s whispered, &amp;quot;Hello?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Feeling put out at the inconvenience of having to talk to a youngster&lt;br&gt;the boss asked,&amp;quot; Is your Daddy home?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Yes&amp;quot;, whispered the small voice. &amp;quot;May I talk with him?&amp;quot; the man asked.&lt;br&gt;To the surprise of the boss, the small voice whispered, &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked,&amp;quot; Is your Mommy there?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Yes&amp;quot;, came the answer. &amp;quot;May I talk with her?&amp;quot; Again&lt;br&gt;the small voice whispered, &amp;quot;no&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;Knowing that it was not likely that a young child would be left home&lt;br&gt;alone, the boss decided he would just leave a message with the person&lt;br&gt;who should be there watching over the child. &amp;quot;Is there anyone there&lt;br&gt;besides you?&amp;quot; the boss asked the child.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Yes&amp;quot; whispered the child, &amp;quot;A policeman&amp;quot;. Wondering what a cop would be&lt;br&gt;doing at his employee&amp;#39;s home, the boss asked &amp;quot;May I speak with the&lt;br&gt;policeman&amp;quot;?&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;No, he&amp;#39;s busy&amp;quot;, whispered the child.&amp;quot; Busy doing&lt;br&gt;what?, asked the boss. &amp;quot;Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the Fireman&amp;quot;,&lt;br&gt;came the whispered answer.&lt;p&gt;Growing concerned and even worried as he heard what sounded like a&lt;br&gt;helicopter through the ear piece on the phone the boss asked, &amp;quot;What is&lt;br&gt;that noise?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;A hello-copper&amp;quot;, answered the whispering voice. &amp;quot;What is going on&lt;br&gt;there?&amp;quot;, asked the boss, now alarmed.&lt;p&gt;In an awed whispering voice the child answered, &amp;quot;The search team just&lt;br&gt;landed the hello-copper&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Alarmed, concerned and more than just a little frustrated the boss&lt;br&gt;asked, &amp;quot;Why are they there&amp;quot;?&lt;p&gt;Still whispering, the young voice replied along with a muffled giggle:&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;They&amp;#39;re looking for me&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5940793871738840906?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5940793871738840906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5940793871738840906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5940793871738840906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5940793871738840906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-gotta-love-kids.html' title='You gotta love Kids!'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3792735816507186365</id><published>2007-12-24T04:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T04:46:06.335-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay away from Aunty</title><content type='html'>A teacher told her young class to ask their parents&lt;br&gt;For a family story with a moral at the end of it, and&lt;br&gt;To return the next day to tell their stories.&lt;p&gt; In the classroom the next day, Joe gave his example&lt;br&gt;First, &amp;quot; My dad is a farmer and we have chickens. One&lt;br&gt;Day we were taking lots of eggs to market in a basket&lt;br&gt;On the front seat of the truck when we hit a big bump&lt;br&gt;In the road; the basket fell off the seat and all the&lt;br&gt;Eggs broke. The moral of the story is not to put all&lt;br&gt;Your eggs in one basket..&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Very good,&amp;quot; said the teacher.&lt;p&gt; Next, Mary said, &amp;quot; We are farmers too. We had twenty&lt;br&gt;Eggs waiting to hatch, but when they did we only got&lt;br&gt;Ten chicks. The moral of this story is not to count&lt;br&gt;Your chickens before they&amp;#39;re hatched ..&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Very good,&amp;quot; said the teacher again, very pleased with&lt;br&gt;The response so far.&lt;p&gt; Next it was Barney&amp;#39;s turn to tell his story: &amp;quot; My dad&lt;br&gt;Told me this story about my Aunt Karen.... Aunt Karen&lt;br&gt;Was a flight engineer in the war and her plane got&lt;br&gt;Hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory and all&lt;br&gt;She had was a bottle of whiskey, a machine gun and a&lt;br&gt;Machete.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;  &amp;quot; Go on,&amp;quot; said the teacher, intrigued.&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Aunt Karen drank the whiskey on the way down to&lt;br&gt;Prepare herself; then she landed right in the middle&lt;br&gt;Of a hundred enemy soldiers. She killed seventy of&lt;br&gt;Them with the machine gun until she ran out of&lt;br&gt;Bullets. Then she killed twenty more with the machete&lt;br&gt;Till the blade broke. And then she killed the last ten&lt;br&gt;With her bare hands.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot; Good heavens,&amp;quot; said the horrified teacher, &amp;quot; What did&lt;br&gt;Your father say was the moral of that frightening&lt;br&gt;Story?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot;Stay away from Aunt Karen when she&amp;#39;s drunk&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3792735816507186365?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3792735816507186365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3792735816507186365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3792735816507186365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3792735816507186365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/stay-away-from-aunty.html' title='Stay away from Aunty'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5224618510458025726</id><published>2007-12-24T01:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T01:08:20.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Signs that your Co-worker is a Computer Hacker</title><content type='html'>10. You ticked him off once and your next phone bill was $20,000.&lt;p&gt;9. He&amp;#39;s won the Publisher&amp;#39;s Clearing House sweepstakes three years running.&lt;p&gt;8. When asked for his phone number, he gives it in hex.&lt;p&gt;7. Seems strangely calm whenever the office LAN goes down.&lt;p&gt;6. Somehow he/she gets HBO on his PC at work.&lt;p&gt;5. Mumbled, &amp;quot;Oh, puh-leeez&amp;quot; 95 times during the movie &amp;quot;The Net&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;4. Massive RRSP contribution made in half-cent increments.&lt;p&gt;3. Video dating profile lists &amp;quot;public-key encryption&amp;quot; among turn-ons&lt;p&gt;2. When his computer starts up, you hear, &amp;quot;Good Morning, Mr. President.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;1. You hear him murmur, &amp;quot;Let&amp;#39;s see you use that Visa card now, jerk.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5224618510458025726?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5224618510458025726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5224618510458025726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5224618510458025726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5224618510458025726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/top-10-signs-that-your-co-worker-is.html' title='Top 10 Signs that your Co-worker is a Computer Hacker'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3677481894423225649</id><published>2007-12-23T01:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T01:07:12.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Watermelon Story</title><content type='html'>There was a farmer who grew watermelons. He was doing pretty&lt;br&gt;well, but he was disturbed by some local kids who would sneak into&lt;br&gt;his watermelon patch at night and eat his watermelons. After some&lt;br&gt;careful thought, he came up with a clever idea that he thought&lt;br&gt;would scare the kids away for sure.&lt;p&gt;He made up a sign and posted it in the field. The next day, the&lt;br&gt;kids show up and they saw the sign which read: &amp;quot;Warning! One&lt;br&gt;of the watermelons in this field has been injected with cyanide.&amp;quot; The kids ran off, made up their own sign and posted it next to&lt;br&gt;the farmer&amp;#39;s sign. When the farmer returned, he surveyed the field.&lt;p&gt;He noticed that no watermelons are missing, but the sign next to&lt;br&gt;his read: &amp;quot;Now there are two!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3677481894423225649?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3677481894423225649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3677481894423225649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3677481894423225649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3677481894423225649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/watermelon-story.html' title='Watermelon Story'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7870256931004956480</id><published>2007-12-21T15:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T15:06:13.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Men are from Mars:A tale of two diaries</title><content type='html'>HER DIARY&lt;p&gt;I asked him what was wrong - he said, &amp;quot;Nothing.&amp;quot; I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said it had nothing to do with me and not to worry.&lt;p&gt;On the way home, I told him that I loved him, but he simply smiled and kept driving. I can&amp;#39;t explain his behavior; I don&amp;#39;t know why he didn&amp;#39;t say, &amp;quot;I love&lt;br&gt;you too.&amp;quot; When we got home, I felt as if I had lost him, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore.&lt;p&gt;He just sat there and watched TV; he seemed distant and absent. Finally, I decided to go to bed. About 10 minutes later he came to bed. I decided that I could not take it anymore, so I decided to confront him with the situation but he had fallen asleep.&lt;p&gt;I started crying and cried until I fell asleep. I do&lt;br&gt;not know what to do. I&amp;#39;m almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;***&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;***&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;***&lt;p&gt;HIS DIARY&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Today India lost the cricket match again. DAMN IT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7870256931004956480?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7870256931004956480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7870256931004956480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7870256931004956480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7870256931004956480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/men-are-from-marsa-tale-of-two-diaries.html' title='Men are from Mars:A tale of two diaries'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5113609079583858538</id><published>2007-12-20T07:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T07:03:21.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun:Sardar's Watch</title><content type='html'>A smart looking Sardarji was seen alightening from an Air India flight from US.&lt;p&gt;He was carrying two heavy stuffed suitcases and had a hard time walking&lt;br&gt;because of their weight. A Bihari, on look out for &amp;quot;foreign goods&amp;quot; , stalked the Sardarji and started a chat with him.&lt;p&gt;Bihari: &amp;quot; Sardarji, where are you coming from?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Sardarji: &amp;quot;California&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Bihari: &amp;quot;Its so hot here , California must be nice ?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Sardarji, put his suitcases down, pressed a few buttons on his watch and a cute looking girl appeared on the dial and told our Sardarji the temperature, wind velocity and humidity in California at that very moment.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;This is an internet accessing watch&amp;quot; explained the Sardarji &amp;quot;It has the very latest 5.6 Gigahertz processor and 4 GB RAM. What more , you can access the net from anywhere in the world .&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Thrilled the Bihari offered to buy the watch and a bargain was struck. Sardarji pocketed the money, handed over the watch to him and walked away.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Sardarji &amp;quot; cried the Bihari &amp;quot;You have forgotten your two suitcases &amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;I wont need them&amp;quot; replied the Sardarji &amp;quot;You can keep them now, they have the two modems you need to use with the watch !!!!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5113609079583858538?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5113609079583858538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5113609079583858538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5113609079583858538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5113609079583858538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/funsardars-watch.html' title='Fun:Sardar&apos;s Watch'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5874146717988559926</id><published>2007-12-19T15:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T15:02:11.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa in Office</title><content type='html'>Santa singh goes into work one morning crying his eyes out.&lt;p&gt;His boss, concerned about all his employees&amp;#39; well being, asked sympathetically,&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;What&amp;#39;s the matter?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;To which Santa replies:&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Early this morning I got a phone call saying that my mother had passed away.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The boss, feeling very sorry at this point, explains to him the following.&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Why don&amp;#39;t you go home for the day.....we aren&amp;#39;t terribly busy. Just take the day off to relax and rest.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Santa very calmly states......&amp;quot;No, I&amp;#39;d be better off here. I need to keep my mind off it and I have the best chance of doing that here.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The boss agrees and allows Santa to work as usual....&amp;quot;if you need anything, just let me know.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Well, a few hours pass and the boss decides to check on Santa. He looks out over Santa&amp;#39;s office and sees him hysterically crying!! He rushes out to Santa, asking,&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;What&amp;#39;s the problem........anything wrong again??&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;No......&amp;quot; exclaims our beloved Santa. &amp;quot;I just got a call from my sister. She told me that HER mom died too!!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5874146717988559926?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5874146717988559926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5874146717988559926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5874146717988559926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5874146717988559926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/santa-in-office.html' title='Santa in Office'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-886965293410991986</id><published>2007-12-18T05:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T05:07:25.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun: Santa singh's Popularity</title><content type='html'>Santa was bragging to his boss one day, &amp;quot;You know,&lt;br&gt;I know everyone there is to know. Just name someone,&lt;br&gt;anyone, and I know them.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Tired of his boasting, his boss called him bluff,&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;OK, Santa how about Tom Cruise?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Sure, yes, Tom&lt;br&gt;and I are old friends, and I can prove it.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;So Santa and boss fly out to Hollywood and knock&lt;br&gt;on Tom Cruise&amp;#39;s door, and sure enough, Tom Cruise,&lt;br&gt;shouts, &amp;quot;Santa! Great to see you! You and your&lt;br&gt;friend come right in and join me for lunch!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Although impressed, Santa&amp;#39;s boss is still&lt;br&gt;skeptical.After they leave Cruise&amp;#39;s house, he tells&lt;br&gt;Santa that he thinks his knowing Cruise was just lucky.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;No, no, just name anyone else,&amp;quot; Santa says.&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;President Bush,&amp;quot; his boss quickly retorts.&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Yes, I know him, let&amp;#39;s fly out to Washington.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;And off they go. At the White House, George W.&lt;br&gt;spots Santa on the tour and motions him and his boss&lt;br&gt;over, saying, &amp;quot;Santa, what a surprise, I was just on my&lt;br&gt;way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in&lt;br&gt;and let&amp;#39;s have a cup of coffee first and catch up.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Well, the boss is very shaken by now, but still&lt;br&gt;not totally convinced. After they leave the White&lt;br&gt;house grounds, he expresses his doubts to Santa, who&lt;br&gt;again implores him to name anyone else.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;The Pope,&amp;quot; his boss replies.&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Sure!&amp;quot; says Santa. &amp;quot;My folks are from Poland,&lt;br&gt;and I&amp;#39;ve known the Pope a long time.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;So off they fly to Rome. Santa and his boss are&lt;br&gt;assembled with the masses in Vatican Square when&lt;br&gt;Santa says, &amp;quot;This will never work. I can&amp;#39;t catch the&lt;br&gt;Pope&amp;#39;s eye among all these people. Tell you what, I&lt;br&gt;know all the guards so let me just go upstairs and&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll come out on the balcony with the Pope.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;And Santa disappears into the crowd headed toward&lt;br&gt;the Vatican. Sure enough, half an hour later Santa&lt;br&gt;emerges with the Pope on the balcony. By the time&lt;br&gt;Santa returns, he finds that his boss has had a heart&lt;br&gt;attack and is surrounded by paramedics.&lt;p&gt;Working his way to his boss&amp;#39; side, Santa asks, &amp;quot;What&lt;br&gt;happened?&amp;quot; His boss looks up and says, &amp;quot;I was doing fine&lt;br&gt;until you and the Pope came out on the balcony and the&lt;br&gt;man next to me said, &amp;quot;Who&amp;#39;s that on the balcony with&lt;br&gt;Santa Singh?&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-886965293410991986?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/886965293410991986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=886965293410991986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/886965293410991986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/886965293410991986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/fun-santa-singhs-popularity.html' title='Fun: Santa singh&apos;s Popularity'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1475004961302009035</id><published>2007-12-18T01:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T03:50:05.084-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>All Sardarji Jokes</title><content type='html'>After making a trip of South India , Santa Singh ,his wife and his son&lt;br&gt;were returning to punjab in Tamilnadu Express. Santa Singh was&lt;br&gt;occupying the lower berth, his wife the middle berth and his son the&lt;br&gt;top most berth in the train. When the train stopped at one of the&lt;br&gt;stations on the way back the son requested Santa Singh to bring him a&lt;br&gt;cup of Ice cream to which Santa readily agreed. When Santa and his son&lt;br&gt;returned they found that a South Indian who couldn&amp;#39;t understand hindi&lt;br&gt;had occupied his son&amp;#39;s birth . Outraged, Santa Singh called the TT and&lt;br&gt;asked him to help. TT requested that he could not understand&lt;br&gt;Hindi/Punjabi so it would be better if Santa Singh explained the whole&lt;br&gt;situation to him in English. Santa Singh explained , &amp;quot; That man&lt;br&gt;sleeping on top of my wife is not giving birth to my child.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Marriage&lt;br&gt;ONE FINE DAY A GIRL PROPOSED TO A SARDAR AND SARDAR DENIED&lt;br&gt;SIMPLY SAYING THAT IN OUR FAMILY,&lt;br&gt;WE MARRY ONLY OUR RELATIVES..&lt;br&gt;MY MOM MARRIED MY DAD,&lt;br&gt;MY BROTHER MARRIED MY BHABHI ,&lt;br&gt;MY UNCLE MARRIED MY AUNT AND SO ON.&lt;br&gt;SO PLEASE EXCUSE ME !!!!!&lt;br&gt;Three Engines&lt;p&gt;Fifteen minutes into the flight from Mankuwa City to Sukhpur city, the&lt;br&gt;captain announced, &amp;quot;Ladies and gentlemen, one of our engines has&lt;br&gt;failed.. There is nothing to worry about. Our flight will take an hour&lt;p&gt;longer than scheduled, but we still have three engines left.&amp;quot; Thirty&lt;br&gt;minutes later the captain announced, &amp;quot;One more engine has failed and&lt;br&gt;the flight will take an additional two hours. But don&amp;#39;t worry ... we&lt;p&gt;can fly just fine on two engines.&amp;quot; An hour later the captain&lt;br&gt;announced, &amp;quot;One more engine has failed and our arrival will be delayed&lt;br&gt;another three hours.But don&amp;#39;t worry ... we still have one engine&lt;br&gt;left.&amp;quot; A sardarji passenger turned to the man in the next seat and&lt;br&gt;remarked, &amp;quot;If we lose one more engine, we&amp;#39;ll be up here all day!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Chinese&lt;br&gt;Sardarji got the 4th child. He fills the birth certificate. &amp;quot;Mother:&lt;br&gt;Sikh. Father: Sikh. Kid: Chinese.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;How come you write &amp;quot;Chinese&amp;quot; when&lt;br&gt;both parents are Sikh?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Aah, Sardarji read a newspaper, it said every 4th person born on the&lt;br&gt;Earth now is a Chinese.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;House on Fire&lt;br&gt;Once a building caught fire and two guys and a sardar were trapped in&lt;br&gt;the balcony. On the ground, fire fighters caught hold of a net and&lt;br&gt;asked them to jump.&lt;br&gt;The first one jumped but the fire fighters removed the net and he was&lt;br&gt;killed. Then the other guy was asked to jump and again they removed&lt;br&gt;the net too soon and he was dead. Seeing all this, the sardar was furious and said: &amp;quot;You keep&lt;br&gt;the net on the ground and get away from it. I don&amp;#39;t trust you.&lt;p&gt;Window&lt;br&gt;A sardar, a japanese, and a britisher were lost in the desert. They&lt;br&gt;were driving around in a Jeep when it broke down, because they had&lt;p&gt;nothing else they decided to each take a piece of the Jeep as they&lt;br&gt;continued their journey.&lt;p&gt;The japanese took the radiator, the britisher took the seat, and the&lt;br&gt;sardar took the door. After a while of walking the britisher asked the&lt;p&gt;japanese &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m confused,why did you bring the radiator?&amp;quot; The japanese responded, &amp;quot;If I get thirsty,I can drink the fluid.&amp;quot; Next the sardar asked the britisher &amp;quot;Why did you bring the seat?&amp;quot; So the britisher said &amp;quot;If I get tired,I am not going to sit on the sand. I can sit on this comfortable seat.&amp;quot; Finally the japanese asked&lt;p&gt;the sardar why he had chosen the door. The sardar quickly responded to&lt;br&gt;this question, &amp;quot;Well,when I shall feel the need to get some breeze in&lt;br&gt;this summer all have to do is roll down the window.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1475004961302009035?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1475004961302009035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1475004961302009035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1475004961302009035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1475004961302009035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/all-sardarji-jokes.html' title='All Sardarji Jokes'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7329695854346835366</id><published>2007-12-17T16:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T03:50:05.084-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>An Accountant Joke</title><content type='html'>Santa wanted to be an accountant, so he went for an aptitude test:&lt;p&gt;Tester: If I give you two Rabbits, and two rabbits, and another two rabbits, how many rabbits have you got?&lt;p&gt;Santa : SEVEN!&lt;p&gt;Tester : No, listen carefully again. If I give you two Rabbits, and two rabbits, and another two rabbits, how many rabbits have you got?&lt;p&gt;Santa : SEVEN!&lt;p&gt;Tester: Let&amp;#39;s try this another way. If I give you two bottles of beer, and two bottles of beer, and another two bottles of beer, how many bottles of beer have you got?&lt;p&gt;Santa : SIX.&lt;p&gt;Tester : Good! Now, if I give you two Rabbits, and two rabbits, and another two rabbits, how many rabbits have you got?&lt;p&gt;Santa : SEVEN!&lt;p&gt;Tester : How on Earth do you work out that three lots of two rabbits is seven?&lt;p&gt;Santa : I&amp;#39;ve already got one rabbit at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7329695854346835366?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7329695854346835366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7329695854346835366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7329695854346835366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7329695854346835366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/accountant-joke.html' title='An Accountant Joke'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7465466108646800094</id><published>2007-12-16T12:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T12:59:10.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sardar Bhai MBBS</title><content type='html'>Needless to say he never made it - Our beloved Sardarji! &lt;br&gt;                 &lt;br&gt;Because these are the answers he gave for medical terms.&lt;p&gt;                 Antibody - against everyone&lt;p&gt;                Artery - the study of fine paintings&lt;p&gt;                Bacteria - back door to a cafeteria&lt;p&gt;                Benign - what you be after you be eight&lt;p&gt;                Bowel - letters like a,e,i,o,u&lt;p&gt;                Caesarian Section - a district in Rome&lt;p&gt;                Cardiology - advanced study of Poker playing&lt;p&gt;                 Cat Scan - searching for lost kitty&lt;p&gt;                Chronic - neck of a crow&lt;p&gt;                Coma - punctuation mark&lt;p&gt;                Cortisone - area around local court&lt;p&gt;                Cyst - short for sister&lt;p&gt;                Diagnosis - person with slanted nose&lt;p&gt;                Dilate - the late British Princess Diana&lt;p&gt;                Dislocation - in this place&lt;p&gt;                Duodenum - couple in blue jeans&lt;p&gt;                Enema - not a friend&lt;p&gt;                False Labor - pretending to work&lt;p&gt;                Genes - blue denim&lt;p&gt;                Groin - to mash to a pulp / smile&lt;p&gt;                Hernia - she is close by&lt;p&gt;                Hymen - greeting to several males&lt;p&gt;                Impotent - distinguished / well-known&lt;p&gt;                Labor Pain - hurt at work&lt;p&gt;                Lactose - people without feet&lt;p&gt;                Lymph - walk unsteadily&lt;p&gt;                Menopause - I no wait&lt;p&gt;                Microbes - small dressing gowns&lt;p&gt;                Obesity - City of Obe&lt;p&gt;                Pacemaker - winner of Nobel Peace Prize&lt;p&gt;                Protein - in favor of teens&lt;p&gt;                Pulse - grain&lt;p&gt;                Pus - small cat&lt;p&gt;                Red Blood Count - Dracula&lt;p&gt;                Rupture - Ecstasy&lt;p&gt;                Secretion - hiding anything&lt;p&gt;                Subcutaneous - not cute enough&lt;p&gt;                Suture - Gujrati for &amp;quot;what do you want&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;                Tablet - small table&lt;p&gt;                Tumor - extra pair&lt;p&gt;                Ultrasound - radical noise&lt;p&gt;                Urine - opposite of you&amp;#39;re out&lt;p&gt;                Varicose - very close&lt;p&gt;                Vas Deferens - extremely different&lt;p&gt;                Vein - at what time?&lt;p&gt;                Vitreous Humor - both witty &amp;amp; funny&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7465466108646800094?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7465466108646800094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7465466108646800094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7465466108646800094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7465466108646800094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/sardar-bhai-mbbs.html' title='Sardar Bhai MBBS'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3791546886794138045</id><published>2007-12-16T00:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T00:57:34.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa and Englishman</title><content type='html'>Once a Hindu, a Muslim and our dear Santa were standing together. An englishman came up and asked, hey guys, what is your favourte flowers?&lt;p&gt;The Hindu replied, &amp;#39;Lotus&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Ha, I clean my shit with that!&amp;#39; the Englishman jeered&lt;p&gt;The Hindu got angry, the lotus being our national flower&lt;p&gt;The Muslim replied:&amp;#39;Chameli&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Ha I clean my shit with that!&amp;#39; The Englishman response&lt;p&gt;The Muslim also got angry but kept quite&lt;p&gt;The Englishman asked Santa, &amp;#39;Sardarji, and what is your favourite flower?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;Patriotic Santa replied: &amp;#39;Cactus! and replied Now clean your ass with that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3791546886794138045?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3791546886794138045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3791546886794138045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3791546886794138045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3791546886794138045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/santa-and-englishman.html' title='Santa and Englishman'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-68625542934837770</id><published>2007-12-07T06:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:50:24.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Elvis met Saddam (PIC)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R1lX-z7AxBI/AAAAAAAABdg/F1lgV0LhEy0/s1600-h/saddam_elvis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R1lX-z7AxBI/AAAAAAAABdg/F1lgV0LhEy0/s400/saddam_elvis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141237186221360146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-68625542934837770?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/68625542934837770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=68625542934837770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/68625542934837770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/68625542934837770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/when-elvis-met-saddam-pic.html' title='When Elvis met Saddam (PIC)'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YxFy3_w4t9o/R1lX-z7AxBI/AAAAAAAABdg/F1lgV0LhEy0/s72-c/saddam_elvis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4710307777687167754</id><published>2007-12-06T00:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T00:58:18.094-08:00</updated><title type='text'>After the Rain</title><content type='html'>Whatever your cross,&lt;br&gt;whatever your pain,&lt;br&gt;there will always be sunshine,&lt;br&gt;after the rain ....&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Perhaps you may stumble,&lt;br&gt;perhaps even fall,&lt;br&gt;But God&amp;#39;s always ready,&lt;br&gt;To answer your call ...&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;He knows every heartache,&lt;br&gt;sees every tear,&lt;br&gt;A word from His lips,&lt;br&gt;can calm every fear ...&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Your sorrows may linger,&lt;br&gt;throughout the night,&lt;br&gt;But suddenly vanish,&lt;br&gt;in dawn&amp;#39;s early light ...&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;The Savior is waiting,&lt;br&gt;somewhere above,&lt;br&gt;To give you His grace,&lt;br&gt;and send you His love...&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Whatever your cross,&lt;br&gt;whatever your pain,&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;God always sends rainbows ....&lt;br&gt;after the rain ... &amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4710307777687167754?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4710307777687167754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4710307777687167754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4710307777687167754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4710307777687167754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/after-rain.html' title='After the Rain'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1795149375433282795</id><published>2007-12-04T22:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T22:57:15.812-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU ARE .......</title><content type='html'>You are strong...&lt;br&gt;when you take your grief and teach it to smile.&lt;p&gt;You are brave...&lt;br&gt;when you overcome your fear and help others to do the same.&lt;p&gt;You are happy...&lt;br&gt;when you see a flower and are thankful for the blessing.&lt;p&gt;You are loving...&lt;br&gt;when your own pain does not blind you to the pain of others.&lt;p&gt;You are wise...&lt;br&gt;when you know the limits of your wisdom.&lt;p&gt;You are true...&lt;br&gt;when you admit there are times you fool yourself.&lt;p&gt;You are alive...&lt;br&gt;when tomorrow&amp;#39;s hope means more to you than yesterday&amp;#39;s mistake.&lt;p&gt;You are growing...&lt;br&gt;when you know what you are but not what you will become.&lt;p&gt;You are free...&lt;br&gt;when you are in control of yourself and do not wish to control others.&lt;p&gt;You are honorable...&lt;br&gt;when you find your honor is to honor others.&lt;p&gt;You are generous...&lt;br&gt;when you can take as sweetly as you can give.&lt;p&gt;You are humble...&lt;br&gt;when you do not know how humble you are.&lt;p&gt;You are thoughtful.. .&lt;br&gt;when you see me just as I am and treat me just as you are.&lt;p&gt;You are merciful...&lt;br&gt;when you forgive in others the faults you condemn in yourself.&lt;p&gt;You are beautiful...&lt;br&gt;when you don&amp;#39;t need a mirror to tell you.&lt;p&gt;You are rich...&lt;br&gt;when you never need more than what you have.&lt;p&gt;You are you...&lt;br&gt;when you are at peace with who you are not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1795149375433282795?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1795149375433282795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1795149375433282795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1795149375433282795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1795149375433282795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-are.html' title='YOU ARE .......'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-9104369935806631160</id><published>2007-12-03T20:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T20:54:12.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meaning of Friendship</title><content type='html'>Do you know the relationship between two eyes..? They blink together,&lt;p&gt;They move together, they cry together, they see things together and&lt;p&gt;They sleep together BUT THEY NEVER SEE EACH OTHER.. that&amp;#39;s what&amp;#39;s friendship&lt;p&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;But when a beautiful girl comes in front, one eye goes blink and the other remains open...&lt;p&gt;Moral of the story : Girls can break even the best of friendships.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-9104369935806631160?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/9104369935806631160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=9104369935806631160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9104369935806631160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9104369935806631160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/meaning-of-friendship.html' title='Meaning of Friendship'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8303244835978962680</id><published>2007-12-02T22:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T22:51:15.422-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of a Boat and  Wife</title><content type='html'>They say the happiest days in life are the day you buy a boat and the day you sell it!! Well, here&amp;#39;s a good boat story!!  &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Joe and John were identical twins. Joe owned an old dilapidated boat and kept pretty much to himself. One day he rented out his boat to a group of out-of-towner&amp;#39;s who sank it. Joe spent all day trying to salvage as much stuff as he could and was out of touch all that day and most of the evening.  &lt;p&gt;Unbeknownst to him, his brother John&amp;#39;s wife died suddenly. When he got back on shore he went into town to pick up a few things at the grocery. A kind old neighbour woman mistook him for John and said: &amp;#39;I&amp;#39;m so sorry for your loss. You must feel terrible.&amp;#39;  &lt;p&gt;Joe, thinking she was talking about his boat said: &amp;#39;Hell no! Fact is I&amp;#39;m sort of glad to be rid of her. She was a rotten old thing from the beginning. Her bottom was all shrivelled up and she smelled like old dead fish. She was always holding water. She had a bad crack in the back and a pretty big hole in the front too. Every time I used her, her hole got bigger and she leaked like crazy. I guess what finally finished her off was when I rented her to those four guys looking for a good time. I warned them that she wasn&amp;#39;t very good and smelled bad. But they wanted her anyway. The darn fools tried to get in her all at one time and she split right up the middle!&amp;#39;  &lt;p&gt;The old woman fainted&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8303244835978962680?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8303244835978962680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8303244835978962680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8303244835978962680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8303244835978962680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/story-of-boat-and-wife.html' title='The Story of a Boat and  Wife'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7374969181774979467</id><published>2007-12-02T12:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T12:52:08.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad, Bad Email</title><content type='html'>One day God was looking down at Earth &amp;amp; saw all of the misbehaving that was going on. So He called one of His Angels to go to earth for a time. When he returned, he told God ... &amp;quot;Yes it is bad on Earth, 95% are misbehaving and only 5% are not.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;God thought for a moment and said &amp;quot;Maybe I had better send down another angel to get a second opinion.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;So God called another angel and sent him to earth for a time. When the angel returned he went to go and said &amp;quot;Yes, its true. The earth is in decline; 95% are misbehaving, but 5% are good.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;God was not pleased. So He decided to e-mail the 5% who were good, because He wanted to encourage them, give them a little something to help them keep going.&lt;p&gt;Do you know what the email said?&lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;No???????&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, just checkin&amp;#39; .. I didn&amp;#39;t get one either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7374969181774979467?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7374969181774979467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7374969181774979467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7374969181774979467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7374969181774979467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/bad-bad-email.html' title='Bad, Bad Email'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1458397625164467203</id><published>2007-12-01T22:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T22:50:13.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Court Room Dramas</title><content type='html'>These are from a book called Disorder in the Court. These are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters whohad to bear the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place. Some of these are excellent in particular the last one which may generically describe a lawyer&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: What is your date of birth?&lt;p&gt;A: July fifteenth.&lt;p&gt;Q: What year?&lt;p&gt;A: Every year.&lt;p&gt;Q: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?&lt;p&gt;A: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?&lt;p&gt;A: Yes.&lt;p&gt;Q: And in what ways does it affect your memory?&lt;p&gt;A: I forget.&lt;p&gt;Q: You forget. Can you give us an example of something that you&amp;#39;ve forgotten?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: How old is your son, the one living with you?&lt;p&gt;A: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can&amp;#39;t remember which.&lt;p&gt;Q: How long has he lived with you?&lt;p&gt;A: Forty-five years.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: What was the first thing your husband said to you when he woke up that morning?&lt;p&gt;A: He said, &amp;quot;Where am I, Cathy?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Q: And why did that upset you?&lt;p&gt;A: My name is Susan.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: Now doctor, isn&amp;#39;t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn&amp;#39;t know about it until the next morning?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: The youngest son, the twenty-year old, how old is he?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: Were you present when your picture was taken?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?&lt;p&gt;A: Yes.&lt;p&gt;Q: And what were you doing at that time?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: She had three children, right?&lt;p&gt;A: Yes.&lt;p&gt;Q: How many were boys?&lt;p&gt;A: None.&lt;p&gt;Q: Were there any girls?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: How was your first marriage terminated?&lt;p&gt;A: By death.&lt;p&gt;Q: And by whose death was it terminated?&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Q: Can you describe the individual?&lt;p&gt;A: He was about medium height and had a beard.&lt;p&gt;Q: Was this a male, or a female?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: Doctor, how many autopsies have you performed on dead people?&lt;p&gt;A: All my autopsies are performed on dead people.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: All your responses must be oral, OK? What school did you go to?&lt;p&gt;A: Oral.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?&lt;p&gt;A: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.&lt;p&gt;Q: And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?&lt;p&gt;A: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Q: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?&lt;p&gt;A: No.&lt;p&gt;Q: Did you check for blood pressure?&lt;p&gt;A: No.&lt;p&gt;Q: Did you check for breathing?&lt;p&gt;A: No.&lt;p&gt;Q: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?&lt;p&gt;A: No.&lt;p&gt;Q: How can you be so sure, Doctor?&lt;p&gt;A: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.&lt;p&gt;Q: But could the patient have still been alive, never the less?&lt;p&gt;A: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1458397625164467203?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1458397625164467203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1458397625164467203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1458397625164467203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1458397625164467203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/12/court-room-dramas.html' title='Court Room Dramas'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8044349373425697737</id><published>2007-11-30T10:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T10:50:07.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Service call</title><content type='html'>I was having trouble with my computer.&lt;br&gt;So I called Bruce, the computer guy, to come over.&lt;br&gt;Bruce clicked a couple of buttons and solved the problem.&lt;br&gt;He gave me a bill for a minimum service call.&lt;p&gt;As he was walking away, I called after him,&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;So, what was wrong?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;He replied, &amp;quot;It was an ID ten T error.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;I didn&amp;#39;t want to appear stupid, but&lt;br&gt;Nonetheless inquired, &amp;quot;An ID ten T Error?&lt;br&gt;What&amp;#39;s that . In case I need to fix it again?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Bruce grinned.... &amp;quot;Haven&amp;#39;t you ever heard of an ID ten T error&lt;br&gt;before?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; I replied.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Write it down,&amp;quot; he said, &amp;quot;and I think you&amp;#39;ll figure it out.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;So I wrote it down.&lt;br&gt;I D 1 0 T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8044349373425697737?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8044349373425697737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8044349373425697737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8044349373425697737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8044349373425697737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/funny-service-call.html' title='Funny Service call'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8686981973718352215</id><published>2007-11-29T14:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T14:26:13.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone's Problem is Large</title><content type='html'>The young man was at the end of his rope.&lt;p&gt;Seeing no way out, he dropped to his knees in prayer.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Lord, I can&amp;#39;t go on ,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;I have too heavy a cross to bear.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The Lord replied, &amp;quot;My son, if you can&amp;#39;t bear its weight, just place your cross inside this room. Then, open that other door and pick out any cross you wish.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;The man was filled with relief.&lt;p&gt;Thank you, Lord,&amp;quot; he sighed, and he did as he was told.&lt;p&gt;Upon entering the other door, he saw many crosses, some so large the tops were not visible.&lt;p&gt;Then, he spotted a tiny cross leaning against a far wall.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;I&amp;#39;d like that one, Lord,&amp;quot; he whispered.&lt;p&gt;And the Lord replied, &amp;quot;My son, that is the cross you just brought in.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;When life&amp;#39;s problems seem overwhelming, it helps to look around and see what other people are coping with. You may consider yourself far more fortunate than you imagined.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8686981973718352215?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8686981973718352215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8686981973718352215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8686981973718352215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8686981973718352215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/everyones-problem-is-large.html' title='Everyone&apos;s Problem is Large'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1499720750648680277</id><published>2007-11-23T17:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T17:52:12.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to win a Court case?</title><content type='html'>A young lawyer was defending a wealthy businessman in a complicated lawsuit.&lt;p&gt;Unfortunately, the evidence was against his client, and he feared the worst.&lt;p&gt;So the lawyer asked the senior partner of the law firm if it would be appropriate to send the judge a box of Havana cigars.&lt;p&gt;The partner was horrified. &amp;quot;The judge is an honorable man,&amp;quot; the partner exclaimed.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;If you do that, I can guarantee you will lose the case!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Weeks later the judge ruled in favor of the lawyer&amp;#39;s client.&lt;p&gt;The partner took him to lunch to congratulate him. &amp;quot;Aren&amp;#39;t you glad you didn&amp;#39;t send those cigars to the judge?&amp;quot;,&lt;p&gt;The partner asked. &amp;quot; But I did send them,&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Replied the lawyer. &amp;quot;I just enclosed the complainant&amp;#39;s lawyer&amp;#39;s business card !&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1499720750648680277?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1499720750648680277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1499720750648680277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1499720750648680277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1499720750648680277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/how-to-win-court-case.html' title='How to win a Court case?'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5124855966246479996</id><published>2007-11-22T16:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T16:40:15.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Pissed Off</title><content type='html'>A man in the pub orders a beer. He gets it and begins to drink it and notices the beer is kind of warm. So he mentions something to the bartender, who tells him to shut up and just drink his beer.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Then it is time to pay and instead of giving three $1 dollar bills to the bartender the guy throws 30 dimes behind the counter.&lt;p&gt;The bartender is pissed and is on his hands and knees collecting change as the guy leaves. &lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt;The next day the man is back and he comes in waiving a $3 dollar bill.&lt;p&gt;The bartender thinks: &amp;quot;okay, business is business &amp;quot; and lets him in. Again, the beer is kind of warm, but the guy doesn&amp;#39;t say anything.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Comes time to pay, the man gives him the $5 note.&lt;p&gt;The bartender goes to the register to get the change, but instead of taking out two $1 dollar bills, he takes out 20 dimes and throws them all around the entire pub. The bartender says: &amp;quot; there is your fu*king change!&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;The man looks around and remains quite calm. He takes out 10 dimes, throws them behind the counter and says: &amp;quot;Gimme another beer! &amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5124855966246479996?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5124855966246479996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5124855966246479996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5124855966246479996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5124855966246479996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/get-pissed-off.html' title='Get Pissed Off'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5019844462733779816</id><published>2007-11-21T15:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T03:50:05.085-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>A Bar Joke</title><content type='html'>A very shy young man goes into a bar and sees a beautiful woman  sitting alone.&lt;p&gt;After an hour he gathers enough courage to go and ask her, &amp;quot;Er...  Excuse me, but would you mind if I sat here beside you?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;She responds in a loud voice :  &amp;quot; NO, I DON&amp;#39;T WANT TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH YOU!&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;Everyone in the bar turns to stare at them.&lt;p&gt;The young man is surprised,  shocked and embarrassed and goes back to his table.  &lt;p&gt;After a few minutes the woman walks over to him smiles, apologizes,  and says, &amp;quot;You see, I&amp;#39;m a graduate student in psychology and I&amp;#39;m  studying how people respond to embarrassing situations.&amp;quot;   &lt;p&gt;The young man responds loudly with,  &amp;quot;WHAT DO YOU MEAN FIVE THOUSAND RUPEES.  THATS TOO MUCH !&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5019844462733779816?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5019844462733779816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5019844462733779816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5019844462733779816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5019844462733779816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/bar-joke.html' title='A Bar Joke'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8547894449997536532</id><published>2007-11-20T13:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T13:20:10.347-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Childless Couple</title><content type='html'>There once was a husband and wife who were unable to have children. After consulting everyone who would listen to their problem, they were still unsatisfied. Finally, they consulted their family priest.&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;My children,&amp;quot; the priest began, &amp;quot;The Lord will listen to your prayers, and I am sure that you will be blessed with children shortly. In fact, I am planning an extended stay in Rome, and while I&amp;#39;m visiting the Vatican, I will light a candle for you.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Thank you, Father, thank you!&amp;quot; said the couple.&lt;p&gt;Before leaving, the priest turned and said, &amp;quot;I am sure everything will work out just fine for you. My stay in Rome will be for quite some time--15 years. But when I return, I will be sure to pay you a visit.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;And so, 15 years came and went, and the priest returned to the States.&lt;p&gt;While resting on his porch one mid-summer morning, he remembered the promise of paying a visit that he had made 15 years ago. So he made his way to their home, and upon arriving at the residence of the couple who&amp;#39;d sought his council years earlier, he rang the doorbell.&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Sounds of crying and screaming children filled the air! Overjoyed by the thought that their prayers had been answered, he entered the house. More than a DOZEN children filled the house from top to bottom! In the midst of all the chaos, stood the wife.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;My dear,&amp;quot; the priest said, &amp;quot;your prayers have been answered! And where is your husband? I wish to congratulate him too on your miracle!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;He just left for Rome,&amp;quot; she said in a very desperate tone.&lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Rome? Why did he go to Rome?&amp;quot; asked the priest.&lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;br&gt;.&lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;To blow out that candle you lit!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8547894449997536532?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8547894449997536532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8547894449997536532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8547894449997536532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8547894449997536532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/childless-couple.html' title='Childless Couple'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1161917551093181825</id><published>2007-11-19T14:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T14:23:12.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping Pills and Barking Dogs</title><content type='html'>An exhausted looking sardarji dragged himself in to a doctor&amp;#39;s clinic. &amp;quot;Doctor, there are dogs all over my neighborhood. They bark all day and all night, and I can&amp;#39;t get a wink of sleep.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;I have good news for you,&amp;quot; the doctor answered, rummaging through a drawer full of sample medications. &amp;quot;Here are some new sleeping pills that work like a dream. A few of these and your trouble will be over.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Great,&amp;quot; the sardarji answered, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;ll try anything. Let&amp;#39;s give it a shot.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;A few weeks later the sardarji returned, looking worse than ever. &amp;quot;Doctor, your plan is no good. I&amp;#39;m more tired than before!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;I don&amp;#39;t understand how that could be&amp;quot;, said the doctor, shaking his head. &amp;quot;Those are the strongest pills on the market!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;That may be true,&amp;quot; answered the sardarji wearily, &amp;quot;but I&amp;#39;m still up all night chasing those dogs and when I finally catch one it&amp;#39;s hard getting him to swallow the pill!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1161917551093181825?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1161917551093181825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1161917551093181825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1161917551093181825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1161917551093181825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/sleeping-pills-and-barking-dogs.html' title='Sleeping Pills and Barking Dogs'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-9118802338897169350</id><published>2007-11-18T16:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.205-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Joke:Why couldn't I open the door?</title><content type='html'>Once Santa kept having the same weird dream everynight, so he went to a doctor.&lt;p&gt;Doctor: What was your dream about?&lt;p&gt;Santa: I was being chased by a vampire!&lt;p&gt;Doctor: (giggles quitely) So... what is the scenery like?&lt;p&gt;Santa: I was running in a hall way.&lt;p&gt;Doctor: Then what happened?&lt;p&gt;Santa: Well that&amp;#39;s the weird thing. In every single dream, the same thing happened. I always come to this door, but I can&amp;#39;t open it. I keep pushing the door and pushing the door, but it wouldn&amp;#39;t budge!&lt;p&gt;Doctor: Does the door have any letters on it?&lt;p&gt;Santa: Yes it did.&lt;p&gt;Doctor: And what did these letter spell?&lt;p&gt;Santa: It said &amp;quot;Pull&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-9118802338897169350?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/9118802338897169350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=9118802338897169350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9118802338897169350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/9118802338897169350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/jokewhy-couldnt-i-open-door.html' title='Joke:Why couldn&apos;t I open the door?'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4266468276732181926</id><published>2007-11-18T04:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.206-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Sardarji Jokes</title><content type='html'>Teacher: &amp;quot;I killed a person.&amp;quot; Convert this sentence into future tense.&lt;br&gt;Sardar: The future tense is &amp;quot;You will go to jail&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;Sardar told his servant: Go and water the plants.&lt;br&gt;Servant: It&amp;quot;s already raining.&lt;br&gt;Sardar: So what? Take an umbrella and go.&lt;p&gt;Postman:- I have to come 5 miles to deliver you this Packet&lt;br&gt;Sardar:- Why did you come so far. Instead you could have posted it...&lt;p&gt;Sardar at an Art Gallery: I suppose this horrible looking thing is what&lt;br&gt;you call modern art ?&lt;br&gt;Art dealer: I beg your pardon sir, thats a mirror!&lt;p&gt;A Teacher lecturing on population - In India after every 10 sec a woman&lt;br&gt;gives birth to a kid.&lt;br&gt;A Sardar stands up- we must find &amp;amp; stop her!.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4266468276732181926?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4266468276732181926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4266468276732181926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4266468276732181926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4266468276732181926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/sardarji-jokes.html' title='Sardarji Jokes'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7183280651648747117</id><published>2007-11-02T00:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.738-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>9 Rules for a Successful Life</title><content type='html'>1 -  Live to relax!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;2 -  Love your bed, it is your temple!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;3 - Relax in the day, so that you can sleep at night!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;4 - Work is holy, so don&amp;#39;t attack it!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;5 - Don&amp;#39;t do something tomorrow, that you can do the day afterwards!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;6 - Work as little as possible.  Let the others do what needs to be done!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;7 - Don&amp;#39;t worry, nobody died from doing nothing, but you could get hurt at work!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;8 - If you feel like doing work, sit down and wait until that feeling goes away!&lt;br&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;9 - Don&amp;#39;t forget: working is healthy!  So leave it for the sick people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7183280651648747117?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7183280651648747117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7183280651648747117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7183280651648747117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7183280651648747117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/11/9-rules-for-successful-life.html' title='9 Rules for a Successful Life'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1919253386064179727</id><published>2007-10-27T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T17:39:55.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you want to insure your car?</title><content type='html'>Do you want to &lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://insurance.mozdex.com/auto/" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)"&gt;insure your car or &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://insurance.mozdex.com/auto/" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)"&gt;vehicle&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, home and other precious things? Have you insured these items already? How did you choose the insurance companies, offers, premiums and rates they assignment. Did you do an elaborate investigation before you chose an insurance firm? likely not, it is not humanly possible to strain through every contract company's reiterate and analyze the pros and cons of apiece to act an aware choice. You could go to a business consultant or commercialism adviser, but, they change a a slant of preferred protection firms (through which they father commission from) - so, they are not actually suggesting you the best option - the best protection unfaltering for you. Now, you need not worry - because there is a solution in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mozdex Insurance &lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://insurance.mozdex.com/auto/" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)"&gt;gets car insurance quotes online&lt;/a&gt; from many insurance firms in your state and analyzes them on behalf of you and suggests you the superior contingent shelter plans for you. They specialise in car and home insurance primarily and work for every state in USA. All you need to do is just visit Mozdex firm online and you can initiate the search for the best car or home insurance sitting in front of your PC. When you enter your Zip code, you are directed to a special page for your State that explains the insurance procedure practised in your state. Then, it proceeds on to list the best quotes for you based on the price, conditions that you specify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The car insurance is a very valuable contribution that you will make against theft, damage or accidental repairs. Always, &lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://insurance.mozdex.com/auto/" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)"&gt;insure your car&lt;/a&gt; before you hit the road and Mozdex auto insurance helps in every step in doing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1919253386064179727?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1919253386064179727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1919253386064179727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1919253386064179727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1919253386064179727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/10/do-you-want-to-insure-your-car.html' title='Do you want to insure your car?'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8503603016785374260</id><published>2007-10-26T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T17:15:38.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We would never fly</title><content type='html'>A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared; he sat  and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body  through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It  appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could and it could go no farther. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the man decided to help the butterfly, so he took a  pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly  then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shrivelled wings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected  that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support  the body, which would contract in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither happened! In  fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen  body and shrivelled wings. It never was able to fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What  the man in his kindness and haste did not understand was that the restricting  cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny  opening were nature's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into  its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from  the cocoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in  our life. If nature allowed us to go through our life without any obstacles, it  would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we could never fly...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8503603016785374260?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8503603016785374260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8503603016785374260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8503603016785374260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8503603016785374260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/10/we-would-never-fly.html' title='We would never fly'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2319017850783386659</id><published>2007-10-25T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:40.394-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='success'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='general'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>60 Things Are Happening Right Now</title><content type='html'>60 Things Are Happening Right Now While You Are Reading This: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Somebody is very proud of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Somebody is  thinking of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Somebody is caring about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Somebody misses you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Somebody wants to talk to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Somebody wants to be with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Somebody hopes you  aren't in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Somebody is thankful for the support you have  provided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Somebody wants to hold your hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  Somebody hopes everything turns out all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Somebody wants  you to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Somebody is celebrating your successes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Somebody wants to give you a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Somebody  thinks that you are a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Somebody hopes you are not too cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Somebody hopes you are not too hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Somebody  wants to hug you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Somebody loves you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Somebody  admires your strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Sombody is thinking of you and smiling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Somebody wants to be your shoulder to cry on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.  Somebody wants to go out with you and have a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.  Somebody thinks the world of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Somebody wants to protect you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Somebody would do anything for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Somebody  wants to be forgiven by you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Somebody is grateful for your  forgiveness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Somebody wants to laugh with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29.  Somebody remembers you and wishes that you were there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Somebody  is praising God for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Somebody needs to know that your love  for them is unconditional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Somebody values your advice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Somebody wants to tell you how much they care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34.  Somebody wants to share their dreams with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Somebody wants to  hold you in their arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Somebody wants you to hold them in your  arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Somebody treasures your spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Somebody  wishes they could stop time because of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Somebody praises God  for your friendship and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Somebody can't wait to see you  again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Somebody loves you for who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42.  Somebody loves the way you make them feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. Somebody wants to be  with you (forever and ever).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. Somebody wants you to know they are  there for you (always).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Somebody is glad that you're their  friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Somebody wants to be your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47.  Somebody stayed up all night thinking about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. Somebody is  alive because of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. Somebody is wishing that you noticed them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. Somebody wants to get to know you better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51.  Somebody wants to be near you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. Somebody misses your advice and  guidance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. Somebody has faith in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. Somebody  trusts you...a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. Somebody needs your support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56.  Somebody needs you to have faith in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. Somebody needs you to  let them be your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. Somebody hears a song that reminds them  of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. Somebody wishes they could tell you how they feel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60. Somebody wishes you would feel the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2319017850783386659?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2319017850783386659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2319017850783386659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2319017850783386659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2319017850783386659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/10/60-things-are-happening-right-now.html' title='60 Things Are Happening Right Now'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2411148050639685602</id><published>2007-10-24T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:57.335-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>France - the best romantic holiday destination</title><content type='html'>If you ask anyone which is the most romantic city in the world, most likely they would say, Paris. The City of Paris and France as a whole, is perceived by young people as a best tourist destination in the world. Actually, Paris can be considered as France in a nutshell. What makes the country so famous? Why do people love to visit the the country at lease once in their lifetime. Let us find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Arts and Culture&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A country with rich heritage and culture will attract tourists and considering the reach of French literature, architecture and cuisine that distinctly stands out from the European counterparts, France is placed high up in the heritage nations. If you are an art lover, then you must visit Louvre museum which has the world renowned paintings of Leonardo Da Vinci such as Mona Lisa and works of Picasso and Rodin. The Eiffel tower is an engineering marvel to demonstrate the industrial revolution. Paris also boasts another iconic tourist destination of the world, Disney Land - which is loved by children all over the world. There are plenty of dance halls and opera theaters which run year-long shows and drams to entertain all people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Food and Shopping&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The French cuisine is probably one of the well developed food culture in the world. The food and wine is part of the dining experience for most French people. There are hundreds of &lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.cheaperthanhotels.co.uk/France/" target="_blank"&gt;hotels in france&lt;/a&gt; that serve the finest french food and there are some modern restaurants that serve exotic foreign cuisines as well. If you are budget conscious, ask a local to suggest few &lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.cheaperthanhotels.co.uk/France/Nice/" target="_blank"&gt;nice hotels&lt;/a&gt; and eating places. Some trendy and famous &lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.cheaperthanhotels.co.uk/France/Paris/" target="_blank"&gt;hotels in paris&lt;/a&gt; often require reservations so, make a reservation before walk into the door to ensure you get a seat. Every year millions of tourists come to Paris with one goal in their mind - Shopping. Paris is one of the great fashion centers in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Accommodation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are visiting such a renowned, top tourist destination, then you must be aware of few challenges as well. Accommodation and finding the suitable accommodation for you would be your biggest hurdle. If you plan well-in-advance, then you can get a good deal. Like any other city, Paris also has its own high and low seasons of tourist visits. Be aware of the right season, and you could save plenty of time and money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paris is the city that offers something for every one. On an average, every year 30 million tourists visit Paris and France those include art lovers, food lovers, shoppers, fashion designers and children. Paris is, in my opinion, the true romantic city in the planet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2411148050639685602?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2411148050639685602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2411148050639685602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2411148050639685602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2411148050639685602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/10/france-best-romantic-holiday.html' title='France - the best romantic holiday destination'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2001359768714462258</id><published>2007-10-20T03:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.740-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>What is Hope</title><content type='html'>Hope is knowing that a positive outcome awaits.&lt;p&gt;Hope is not only expecting a dream to come true,&lt;br&gt;but also having a deep assurance&lt;br&gt;that it&amp;#39;s within your reach.&lt;p&gt;Hope is saying you can.&lt;p&gt;Hope is knowing that you can improve&lt;br&gt;and that you always get better with practice.&lt;p&gt;Hope is knowing that you can achieve your goals&lt;br&gt;through hard work and persistence.&lt;p&gt;Hope is looking to the future with joy&lt;br&gt;and having an expectation of&lt;br&gt;better things to come.&lt;p&gt;Hope is the knowledge that life is everlasting,&lt;br&gt;and that miracles happen every day.&lt;p&gt;Hope is something that never abandons you.&lt;br&gt;Even when your life is filled with&lt;br&gt;sadness and disappointment,&lt;br&gt;a spark remains inside to help you&lt;br&gt;get through the rough times.&lt;p&gt;Hope is one of God&amp;#39;s greatest gifts to you,&lt;br&gt;because it&amp;#39;s the magic that inspires you&lt;br&gt;to keep trying, learning, loving, and living. I have found that if you love life, life will love you back!  ~ Arthur Rubenstein&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2001359768714462258?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2001359768714462258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2001359768714462258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2001359768714462258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2001359768714462258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-is-hope.html' title='What is Hope'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8282384639789517581</id><published>2007-10-18T07:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.206-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Joke:Scare the Elephants</title><content type='html'>A rather inebriated fellow on a bus was tearing up a newspaper into tiny&lt;br&gt;pieces and throwing them out the window.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Excuse me,&amp;quot; said the woman sitting next to him. &amp;quot;But, would you mind&lt;br&gt;explaining why you&amp;#39;re doing this?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;It scares away the elephants,&amp;quot; replied the drunk.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;But I don&amp;#39;t see any elephants around here,&amp;quot; said the woman.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Effective, isn&amp;#39;t it?&amp;quot; crowed the drunk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8282384639789517581?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8282384639789517581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8282384639789517581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8282384639789517581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8282384639789517581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/10/jokescare-elephants.html' title='Joke:Scare the Elephants'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8073480863952176034</id><published>2007-09-30T17:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T17:20:11.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Game will be Over</title><content type='html'>A young boy enters a barber shop and the barber whispers to his customer, &amp;quot;This is the dumbest kid  in the world. Watch while I prove it to you.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The barber puts a dollar bill in one hand and two quarters in the other, then calls the boy over and asks, &amp;quot; Which do you want, son?&amp;quot; The boy takes the quarters and leaves.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;What did I tell you?&amp;quot; said the barber. &amp;quot;That kid never learns!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Later, when the customer leaves, he sees the same young boy coming out of the ice cream store. &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Hey, son! May I ask you a question? Why did you take the quarters instead of the dollar bill?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;The boy licked his cone and replied, &amp;quot;Because the day I take the dollar, the game&amp;#39;sover!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8073480863952176034?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8073480863952176034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8073480863952176034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8073480863952176034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8073480863952176034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/game-will-be-over.html' title='The Game will be Over'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4245753307288224213</id><published>2007-09-29T22:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:06:53.614-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='general'/><title type='text'>24 simple fun facts</title><content type='html'>1. A day without sunshine is like night.&lt;p&gt;2. On the other hand, you have different fingers.&lt;p&gt;3. 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.&lt;p&gt;4. 99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.&lt;p&gt;5. Remember, half the people you know are below average.&lt;p&gt;6. He who laughs last, thinks slowest.&lt;p&gt;7. Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm .&lt;p&gt;8. The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese in the trap.&lt;p&gt;9. Support bacteria. They&amp;#39;re the only culture some people have.&lt;p&gt;10. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.&lt;p&gt;11. Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.&lt;p&gt;12. If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.&lt;p&gt;13. How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand.&lt;p&gt;14. OK, so what&amp;#39;s the speed of dark?&lt;p&gt;15. When everything is coming your way, you&amp;#39;re in the wrong lane .&lt;p&gt;16. Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.&lt;p&gt;17. How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?&lt;p&gt;18. Eagles may soar, but weasels don&amp;#39;t get sucked into jet engines&lt;p&gt;19. What happens if you get scared half to death, twice?&lt;p&gt;20. Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?&lt;p&gt;21. Inside every older person is a younger person wondering, &amp;quot;What the hell happened?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;22. Just remember -- if the world didn&amp;#39;t suck, we would all fall off.&lt;p&gt;23. Light travels faster than sound. That&amp;#39;s why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.&lt;p&gt;24. Life isn&amp;#39;t like a box of chocolates. It&amp;#39;s more like a jar of jalapenos .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4245753307288224213?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4245753307288224213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4245753307288224213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4245753307288224213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4245753307288224213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/24-simple-fun-facts.html' title='24 simple fun facts'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1965010943022475741</id><published>2007-09-29T05:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T05:07:10.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Pass Microsoft's Selection Process</title><content type='html'>Bill Gates organized an enormous session to recruit a new Chairman for Microsoft Europe. 5000 candidates assembled in a large room. One candidate is Vella Reddy  an Indian (Hyderabadi ) guy.&lt;p&gt;Bill Gates thanked all the candidates for coming and asking those who do not know JAVA program to leave.2000 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself, &amp;#39;I do not know  JAVA but I have nothing to lose if I stay. I&amp;#39;ll give it a try&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Bill Gates asked the candidates who never had experience of managing more than 100 people to leave. 2000 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself &amp;#39; I never managed anybody by myself but I have nothing to lose if I stay. What can happen to me?&amp;#39; So he stays.&lt;p&gt;Then Bill Gates asked candidates who do not have management diplomas to leave. 500 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself, &amp;#39;I left school at 15 but what have I got to lose?&amp;#39; So he stays in the room.&lt;p&gt;Lastly, Bill Gates asked the candidates who do not speak Serbo - Croat to leave. 498 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself, &amp;#39; I do not speak one word of Serbo - Croat but&lt;br&gt;what  do I have to lose?&amp;#39; So he stays and finds himself with one other candidate. Everyone else has gone.&lt;p&gt;Bill Gates joined them and said &amp;#39;Apparently you are the only two candidates who speak Serbo - Croat, so I&amp;#39;d now like to hear you have a conversation together in that language.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Calmly, Reddy turns to the other candidate and says &amp;#39;ellaa vunnavu babu&amp;#39; (in telugu it means - how are yu friend?)&lt;br&gt;The other candidate answers &amp;#39;baguunanu  babu &amp;#39; (in telugu it means - im fine friend!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1965010943022475741?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1965010943022475741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1965010943022475741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1965010943022475741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1965010943022475741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/how-to-pass-microsofts-selection.html' title='How to Pass Microsoft&apos;s Selection Process'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-24129928747060558</id><published>2007-09-21T03:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T03:30:20.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to kill Google?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Even the biggest party has to end one day! Here&amp;rsquo;s how to topple Google in their own game. This article draws inspiration from &lt;strong&gt;wired magazine&lt;/strong&gt; special edition &amp;lsquo;&lt;a href="http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/12.03/google.html"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Googlemania&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;rsquo; published during it&amp;rsquo;s first IPO season. Also, lately I came across some research papers on the pitfalls in Search Giant&amp;rsquo;s approach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;#1. Build a &lt;a href="http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-to-kill-google.html#" style="text-decoration: underline ! important; position: static;" class="kLink" target="_top" id="KonaLink2"&gt;&lt;font color="blue" style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;search &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;engine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt; which can crawl every webpage ever created on this planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Google or any &lt;a href="http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-to-kill-google.html#" style="text-decoration: underline ! important; position: static;" class="kLink" target="_top" id="KonaLink1"&gt;&lt;font color="blue" style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;other &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;search &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;engine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt; as a matter of fact, still scratching the surface of the web and about 80% of the deep web remains unexplored. Some estimates say that the &lt;a href="http://aip.completeplanet.com/"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;deep web&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (invisible from any search engine) is 550 times greater than the normal &lt;a href="http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-to-kill-google.html#" style="text-decoration: underline ! important; position: static;" class="kLink" target="_top" id="KonaLink3"&gt;&lt;font color="blue" style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;web &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Arial; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;space&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&amp;ldquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;Google has 3 billion pages in its &lt;a href="http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-to-kill-google.html#" style="text-decoration: underline ! important; position: static;" class="kLink" target="_top" id="KonaLink4"&gt;&lt;font color="blue" style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Verdana; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Verdana; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;database&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, with AlltheWeb and Inktomi close behind. But there may be a trillion more pages hiding in plain sight - in online databases such as WebMD and &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;The New York Times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;' archive, and they can't be reached by hopping from one link to another&amp;rdquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;#2. Can you index and save a history of every webpage modifications. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;&amp;ldquo;Google lets you search only its most recently crawled version of the Web. Pages that were changed or deleted prior to the last crawl are lost forever. What if you could search every version of every page ever posted?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; #3. Following, Aggregating RSS feeds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;&amp;ldquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;News sites and blogs are supplementing their pages with RSS feeds - a service that pushes new content to subscribers as soon as it's published. Google doesn't track RSS feeds, and bloggers gripe that their posts take two to three days to show up in search results. An engine to which Web &lt;a href="http://thirumurugan.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-to-kill-google.html#" style="text-decoration: underline ! important; position: static;" class="kLink" target="_top" id="KonaLink5"&gt;&lt;font color="blue" style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Verdana; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Verdana; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;site &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue ! important; font-family: Verdana; font-weight: 400; font-size: 12.4667px; position: static;" class="kLink"&gt;owners&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt; could upload RSS would provide the latest version of every page.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; #4. What about knowledge mining?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;Yes, Google returns the search results in milliseconds or lesser fraction of time. So, what. Still, I need to spend 30 minutes of time in Google to gather the information what I need. So, the information has to be aggregated from various sources to present &amp;lsquo;information related to a context&amp;rsquo;. Something similar to &lt;a href="http://mindset.research.yahoo.com/search.php?p=Geography"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Yahoo Mindset&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &amp;ndash; the beta search where you can adjust between &amp;lsquo;Shopping&amp;rsquo; and &amp;lsquo;Researching&amp;rsquo;. If I type, &amp;ldquo;Biography of Gandhi&amp;rdquo;, the search companion should return extracts (authentic) from various webpages. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; #5. Google is not so good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;At google, rich becomes richer. That is, the web pages resulting in top of the results page get linked again by many, promoting them further. Google&amp;rsquo;s &amp;lsquo;backlink algorithm&amp;rsquo; is already flawed and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Google_bombing"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;bombed by hackers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. It&amp;rsquo;s time to move on to a better Expert algorithm. We need to build an alogorithm which resembles an &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expert_system"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;expert researcher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt; who sieves through millions of junks to return golden nuggets of information and knowledge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="3" face="Tahoma"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s not this easy. You need to build a complete, fast, free, search companion suiting each and everyone&amp;rsquo;s needs. More importantly, you should do it quickly!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-24129928747060558?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/24129928747060558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=24129928747060558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/24129928747060558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/24129928747060558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/how-to-kill-google.html' title='How to kill Google?'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3857111071632455283</id><published>2007-09-06T16:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T16:04:11.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bill Gates, Andy Grove and Jerry Sanders</title><content type='html'>Bill Gates, Andy Grove, and Jerry Sanders (CEOs of MicroSoft,&lt;br&gt;   Intel, and AMD, in case you didn&amp;#39;t recognize one (or more?!) of the names) were in a&lt;br&gt;   high-powered    business meeting.  During the serious, tense discussions,&lt;br&gt;   a beeping noise suddenly is emitted from where Bill is sitting.&lt;p&gt;   Bill says, &amp;quot;Oh,&lt;br&gt;   that&amp;#39;s my emergency beeper.  Gentlemen, excuse me, I really need to&lt;br&gt;   take this&lt;br&gt;   call.&amp;quot;  &lt;p&gt;So Bill lifts his wristwatch to his ear and begins talking&lt;br&gt;   into the end&lt;br&gt;   of his tie.  After completing this call, he notices the others are&lt;br&gt;   staring at&lt;br&gt;   him.  Bill explains, &amp;quot;Oh, this is my new emergency communication&lt;br&gt;   system.  I have&lt;br&gt;   an earpiece built into my watch and a microphone sewn into the end&lt;br&gt;   of my tie.&lt;br&gt;   That way, I can a take a call anywhere.&amp;quot;  The others nod, and the meeting&lt;br&gt;   continues.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Five minutes later, the discussion is again interrupted when Andy starts&lt;br&gt;   beeping.  He also states, &amp;quot;Oh, that is my emergency beeper.  Excuse me,&lt;br&gt;   gentlemen, this must be an important call.&amp;quot;  So Andy taps his&lt;br&gt;   earlobe and begins&lt;br&gt;   talking into thin air.  When he completes his call, he notices the others&lt;br&gt;   staring at him and explains, &amp;quot;I also have an emergency&lt;br&gt;   communication system.&lt;br&gt;   But my earpiece is actually implanted in my earlobe, and the&lt;br&gt;   microphone is&lt;br&gt;   actually embedded in this fake tooth.  Isn&amp;#39;t that neat?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;   The others nod, and the meeting continues.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Five minutes later, the discussion is again interrupted when Jerry&lt;br&gt;   emits a&lt;br&gt;   thunderous fart.  He looks up at the others staring at him and&lt;br&gt;   says, &amp;quot;Uhh,&lt;br&gt;   somebody get me a piece of paper... I&amp;#39;m receiving a fax.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3857111071632455283?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3857111071632455283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3857111071632455283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3857111071632455283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3857111071632455283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/bill-gates-andy-grove-and-jerry-sanders.html' title='Bill Gates, Andy Grove and Jerry Sanders'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2974366188695276353</id><published>2007-09-05T15:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.740-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>How to find a beautiful indian wife: Practical Tips</title><content type='html'>(Some one wrote this and sent by email - see if they help)  &lt;p&gt;If you are a typical, single, Indian man who lives in the USA, the&lt;br&gt;  time will come when it will dawn on you that the only chance you have&lt;br&gt;  to indulge in wedded bliss lies in the hallowed institution of the&lt;br&gt;  &amp;quot;Arranged Marriage&amp;quot;. You probably left India when you were twenty-one,&lt;br&gt;  having squandered your adolescence striving to get here.  At this&lt;br&gt;  point, you are twenty-five or older, and have been out of touch with&lt;br&gt;  the general Indian female population for more than a decade.  All the&lt;br&gt;  women you know back home are married. This manual is written for those&lt;br&gt;  of you who harbor hopes of acquiring a beautiful arranged bride.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  If you belong to the rarified set of intellectuals to whom the&lt;br&gt;  external female form holds no charms, and those who evaluate others&lt;br&gt;  according to the quality of their inner selves, this manual is not for&lt;br&gt;  you. Before you stop reading, please accept my heartiest&lt;br&gt;  congratulations on your self control and ideological correctness.  I&lt;br&gt;  am not worthy of even addressing you (kneel! kneel!).&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  No, this manual is for the rest of you, mere mortals, who still have&lt;br&gt;  enough red blood in their veins so that you can admit, even to&lt;br&gt;  yourselves, that you rather like the idea of having a beautiful wife.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Of course, before I even go about describing how to acquire beauty, it&lt;br&gt;  is necessary to define it. And this is where I expect the most&lt;br&gt;  disagreement. There will be those among you who proclaim, &amp;quot;But beauty&lt;br&gt;  is in the eye of the beholder!&amp;quot; And you would be partly right.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  If you are a man who equates beauty to facial attractiveness, there is&lt;br&gt;  not much that this manual can do for you. You are a very fortunate&lt;br&gt;  man, for Indian women have the most beautiful faces of any race in the&lt;br&gt;  world. You have a very large pool to choose from, and you do not need&lt;br&gt;  much help in choosing, because you can look at each prospective&lt;br&gt;  bride&amp;#39;s face and decide whether she is beautiful or not.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  No, this is written for those who would like their wife to have a good&lt;br&gt;  figure too. For you, the job is harder. Typically, Indian women do not&lt;br&gt;  get much physical exercise, and consequently, if they are not scrawny,&lt;br&gt;  tend to be on the overweight side. Why do you think sarees are so&lt;br&gt;  popular in India? Because they can hide all the embarrassing bulk!&lt;br&gt;  Some men think that Indian women do not have shapely legs by reasons&lt;br&gt;  of genetics. I say to them, check out the figures of the IA (ABCD to&lt;br&gt;  you politically incorrect guys) women.  They are on par with anything&lt;br&gt;  I have seen on any other race.  This is because IA women work out and&lt;br&gt;  take care to keep themselves in shape. You cannot go covering yourself&lt;br&gt;  up around here, not if you want to get dates.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  If you are one of those academic types who have not given much thought&lt;br&gt;  to the matter, or merely one of those blighters who like to ask&lt;br&gt;  intelligent questions to which you already know the answers, and ask&lt;br&gt;  me, &amp;quot;But why does one NEED a beautiful wife?&amp;quot;  I would reply that&lt;br&gt;  beauty is a double edged sword. It has its advantages and&lt;br&gt;  disadvantages, some of which I summarize below.&lt;p&gt;  Advantages of having a beautiful wife.&lt;br&gt;  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  a)  A beautiful girl is much easier to adjust to than an&lt;br&gt;  unattractive one. You will be much more tolerant of her faults during&lt;br&gt;  the initial &amp;quot;adjustment&amp;quot; phase of marriage, simply because you will&lt;br&gt;  not have the heart to get irritated with someone so lovely.  She will&lt;br&gt;  be much easier to forgive after a fight.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  b)  If you are the typical desi engineer, you will not be exactly&lt;br&gt;  Adonis Reborn. If your wife is homely too, your child will probably&lt;br&gt;  look like the Swamp Thing, or the Blob.  If you love your unborn&lt;br&gt;  children, you owe it to them to give them a beautiful mother.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  c)  A beautiful wife enhances your social stature.  People will&lt;br&gt;  look at you and think, &amp;quot;How the ^&amp;amp;*% did that !@## land such a&lt;br&gt;  gorgeous babe? He must have something that is not visible on the&lt;br&gt;  outside!&amp;quot; You will get invited to more parties, especially by men who&lt;br&gt;  want to spend the evening drooling at her. Conversely, if your wife is&lt;br&gt;  homely, you will be rather embarrassed to take her to gatherings of&lt;br&gt;  your friends, especially if they are all married to knockouts.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  d)  And most importantly, sex will be much better if your wife is&lt;br&gt;  good-looking. Otherwise, after a couple of years when the pent-up&lt;br&gt;  horniness of the past 25+ years has worn off, you probably will not be&lt;br&gt;  even able to get it up, unless you resort to ungentlemanly and&lt;br&gt;  undignified tactics, like fantasising about Sridevi when you are in&lt;br&gt;  bed.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Disadvantages of having a beautiful wife.&lt;br&gt;  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  a)  If you are one of those for whom innocence, virtue, and&lt;br&gt;  chastity are important, beautiful women are not for you. My empirical&lt;br&gt;  research shows that, while beauty (or the lack of it) in a woman is in&lt;br&gt;  no way indicative of her intelligence, beautiful women are invariably&lt;br&gt;  very street-smart.  They KNOW that they are good looking, and have got&lt;br&gt;  used to people bending over backwards to accommodate them. This dawns&lt;br&gt;  on them very early on in life, when they observe that teachers are&lt;br&gt;  much nicer to them than to their less-attractive friends, when almost&lt;br&gt;  all the men they encounter behave like brainless, testeterone-driven&lt;br&gt;  apes in their presense, when they observe that they get things done&lt;br&gt;  twice as quickly in a government office .&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  As a teenager in college, a beautiful woman would have had lots of men&lt;br&gt;  vying with each other for her friendship and affections. She would&lt;br&gt;  have to be more than human not to have enjoyed the attention. She&lt;br&gt;  would have played the men one against the other, as women have done&lt;br&gt;  since time immemorial.  She might have dated, and even had affairs. In&lt;br&gt;  the process, she would get to know men all too well, and would realize&lt;br&gt;  that they are but putty in the hands of a good-looking woman.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  b)  A good-looking woman is more than a match for the average desi&lt;br&gt;  engineer. She will twist you around her little finger and make you&lt;br&gt;  jump through hoops. Things will get done her way nearly all the time.&lt;br&gt;  Of course, it will be fun to jump through hoops for someone as lovely&lt;br&gt;  as she is.  A homely woman, on the other hand, will usually be so&lt;br&gt;  grateful to you for marrying her that she will treat you like a king.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  c)  As I mentioned before, a beautiful woman is unlikely to be&lt;br&gt;  particularly virtuous or righteous. But that is okay, since too much&lt;br&gt;  virtue often goes hand-in-hand with rather undesirable traits.  A&lt;br&gt;  virtuous woman may also be ugly, weird, boring, hyper-religious or&lt;br&gt;  frigid.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  d)  A beautiful woman is more likely to &amp;quot;stray&amp;quot; after marriage&lt;br&gt;  too. This is the USA, and the fact that a woman is married does not&lt;br&gt;  make her off-limits to adventurers or would-be Casanovas.  The more&lt;br&gt;  lovely a woman is, the more likely is she to be propositioned by her&lt;br&gt;  male colleagues or friends. Ergo, she is subject to much more&lt;br&gt;  temptation than her homely counterparts.  Think about this... how&lt;br&gt;  would it be if women kept asking you, a man, to make love to them? How&lt;br&gt;  many times would you refuse?&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  How to go about selecting a beautiful wife.&lt;br&gt;  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  First of all, there is the matter of mentioning the fact to your&lt;br&gt;  parents. If your parents are anything like mine, they will freak out&lt;br&gt;  when they hear that their dear devoted son is actually interested in&lt;br&gt;  earthy things like beauty (and, by extrapolation, sex).  It is not&lt;br&gt;  considered good form to say that beauty is important to you in Indian&lt;br&gt;  circles.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Here is a very important tip... do not leave bride-hunting to your&lt;br&gt;  parents! Beauty is going to be the last of their priorities, coming&lt;br&gt;  after caste, horoscopes, family background, perceived virtue of the&lt;br&gt;  girl etc. Make it very clear to them that beauty is high on your list&lt;br&gt;  of priorities. State in no uncertain terms that you will not marry&lt;br&gt;  anyone who does not measure up to your standards. That will prevent&lt;br&gt;  them from goofing off during bride-hunting, shirking their&lt;br&gt;  responsibilities and palming off some family-friend&amp;#39;s daughter on you.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Another unpalatable fact is that your mother will not want you to&lt;br&gt;  marry someone too beautiful. This often comes as a surprise to most&lt;br&gt;  sons, but the reason is simple. Mothers know that, sooner or later,&lt;br&gt;  there will be a tussle between her and her daughter-in-law over her&lt;br&gt;  son&amp;#39;s affections and loyalties.  Since women are extremely conscious&lt;br&gt;  of their looks and tend to rate themselves accordingly, a beautiful&lt;br&gt;  woman has a psychological advantage over a less attractive one in an&lt;br&gt;  argument.  Also, your mother knows that a beautiful wife will tilt the&lt;br&gt;  scales against her as far as you are concerned, since such a wife will&lt;br&gt;  probably have you dangling by the balls, if you pardon the expression.&lt;br&gt;  So, left to herself, your mother will limit her search to women who&lt;br&gt;  are less attractive than she perceives herself to be.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Before you start on your bride-hunting, you should convince yourself&lt;br&gt;  that you deserve a beautiful wife. Do not ever think, &amp;quot;But I am not so&lt;br&gt;  good-looking anyway, what right have I to demand a lovely girl?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;  Since Man started walking the earth, it has been the man&amp;#39;s wealth that&lt;br&gt;  has been traded off for the woman&amp;#39;s beauty. Rest assured that your&lt;br&gt;  looks will be the last thing on a girl&amp;#39;s mind when she rates you as a&lt;br&gt;  prospective husband. (I am limiting myself to arranged marriages&lt;br&gt;  here).  She will be weighing your earning potential, green-card&lt;br&gt;  potential etc.  Even in this land of feminism, &amp;quot;Cosmopolitan&amp;quot; has&lt;br&gt;  articles on &amp;quot;How to hook a rich husband&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;The ten best places to&lt;br&gt;  meet successful men&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  You have worked hard, and wasted ten of the most wonderful years of&lt;br&gt;  your life getting where you are. You deserve to get something out of&lt;br&gt;  it. Do not squander your bargaining position. In other words, do not&lt;br&gt;  be ashamed to make your preference for beauty known.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  How to check whether she is beautiful.&lt;br&gt;  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  First of all, never consent to marry a girl whom you have seen only in&lt;br&gt;  photographs. PHOTOGRAPHS LIE!!!! Photography is an art that can make&lt;br&gt;  HKL Bhagat look like Zeenat Aman. All too often, photographs sent to&lt;br&gt;  prospective suitors contain only the face. Also, they usually have&lt;br&gt;  been so air-brushed and sanitized, all the pimples and other&lt;br&gt;  irregularities removed, that the end product has little in common with&lt;br&gt;  the original. Also, it is a certain fact that no woman will consent to&lt;br&gt;  send you photograph that presents herself in an unflattering light.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  These days, in the urban areas of India, it is often the practice to&lt;br&gt;  take an album-full of pictures of a girl when she gets to marriageable&lt;br&gt;  age. These pictures show the girl in various outfits, eastern and&lt;br&gt;  western. The album is then sent to prospective grooms-in-the-states.&lt;br&gt;  During my last visit to India, I learned from an authoritative source&lt;br&gt;  that many of these pictures are blatant forgeries, involving splicing&lt;br&gt;  the girl&amp;#39;s head on to the figure of some other girl, sometimes&lt;br&gt;  professional models.  In one case, pictures of a girl&amp;#39;s good-looking&lt;br&gt;  sister were went out instead. Bottom line: do not make a decision&lt;br&gt;  based merely on photographs!&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Darshan.&lt;br&gt;  ^^^^^^^&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Once you see the girl directly, you can easily check whether her face&lt;br&gt;  measures up. The figure is a different matter altogether.  Women have&lt;br&gt;  conducted more research into packaging themselves than have been&lt;br&gt;  conducted on the entire US space effort. You should realize that,&lt;br&gt;  while you were struggling in your engineering program in undergraduate&lt;br&gt;  on grad school, women were learning the techniques of camouflage. She&lt;br&gt;  KNOWS that it is her looks that count. By packaging herself so that&lt;br&gt;  she seems attractive to a non-resident Indian for about 10 minutes,&lt;br&gt;  she can earn all that it took the NRI 10 years of hard work to&lt;br&gt;  realize. Women are extremely honest with their friends about their&lt;br&gt;  positive and negative points. They are intensely aware of their flaws,&lt;br&gt;  and work systematically towards concealing them.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  So, if she seems to have a liking for loose, flowing sarees or&lt;br&gt;  salwar-kameez, keep your mind open to the possibility that she may be&lt;br&gt;  overweight.  That fold of her saree draped oh-so-elegantly across her&lt;br&gt;  midriff might be concealing a paunch. It it is wound demurely around&lt;br&gt;  her back, she probably has spare tires. Does she walk slowly and&lt;br&gt;  sedately, like an old Spanish galleon making its way across the seas?&lt;br&gt;  She is probably holding her paunch in.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  So what do you do if she always appears in such clothes? You cannot&lt;br&gt;  very well demand that she change clothes... that would be outrageously&lt;br&gt;  bad form. AND SHE KNOWS THAT! One way to approach such a problem is&lt;br&gt;  the following. Tell her that she cannot wear a saree in the states,&lt;br&gt;  that it would be embarrassing for you. Tell her that if she is not&lt;br&gt;  willing to wear jeans, shorts and pants on a regular basis, you are&lt;br&gt;  probably not a good choice for her. Subtly hint that you would like to&lt;br&gt;  see her in western clothes. If she refuses flat-out, my friend, you&lt;br&gt;  can be sure that she is hiding something. If she has a good figure,&lt;br&gt;  she will make damned sure that you see it.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  A large percentage of women in India have huge hips and very heavy&lt;br&gt;  thighs. This is mainly due to lack of exercise. In a saree or&lt;br&gt;  churidar, it is impossible to check for these, which is why they are&lt;br&gt;  so popular.  If a woman states that she does not wear pants, warning&lt;br&gt;  bells should ring in her mind.  One way to check for obesity under a&lt;br&gt;  saree or salwar is to note the relative positions of her bosom and&lt;br&gt;  midriff. For a woman with a good figure, the bosom should be at a&lt;br&gt;  considerably higher level.  If she dresses so that the bosom does not&lt;br&gt;  stand out, it is almost surely because she has a paunch that comes to&lt;br&gt;  the same level. Or she may be droopy, saggy or totally flat.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  Let me reiterate, if a girl has something to show, she will make&lt;br&gt;  damned sure that you will see it.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  One way to see how your prospective bride looks when she is not&lt;br&gt;  dressed up is to ask to see her family albums. NOT the ones that they&lt;br&gt;  keep out ostentatiously but the ones that they keep tucked away at the&lt;br&gt;  corner of the shelf. A lot of overweight women go through crash diets&lt;br&gt;  during the wedding season, starving themselves or going to&lt;br&gt;  professional &amp;quot;fat-farms&amp;quot; to lose dozens of pounds, to get into&lt;br&gt;  presentable shape for the darshan. I know of one woman who lost 60&lt;br&gt;  pounds in 8 months preparing for the wedding. She quickly gained it&lt;br&gt;  all back after the marriage. Pictures of the woman taken 2 or 3 years&lt;br&gt;  ago should tell you whether she is inclined to obesity.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  If, on the other hand, she is a thin woman who has padded herself up&lt;br&gt;  to look good on darshan day, there is no way on earth that you can&lt;br&gt;  tell. The best way to check for this sort of stuff is to enlist the&lt;br&gt;  help of a sympathetic, liberated, female, friend, sister or other&lt;br&gt;  relative. She can easily see through the disguise and give you&lt;br&gt;  unbiased estimates of the interior. So, if you have a sister, you had&lt;br&gt;  better start being nice to her.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;  I hope you will find my article useful. Happy hunting!&lt;p&gt;(Sent by an Indian NRI)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2974366188695276353?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2974366188695276353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2974366188695276353' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2974366188695276353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2974366188695276353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/how-to-find-beautiful-indian-wife.html' title='How to find a beautiful indian wife: Practical Tips'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4658114670396559288</id><published>2007-09-04T12:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:57.335-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>All the things you wanted to know about women</title><content type='html'>Element: woman&lt;p&gt;Symbol: Wo&lt;p&gt;Discoverer: Adam&lt;p&gt;Atomic Weight: accepted as 118 but is known to vary from 100 - 160 lbs.&lt;p&gt;Occurence: surplus quantities in all urban areas.&lt;p&gt;Physical Properties:&lt;p&gt;    1) suface usually covered in painted film&lt;br&gt;    2) boils at nothing, freezes without reason&lt;br&gt;    3) melts if given proper treatment&lt;br&gt;    4) bitter if used incorrectly&lt;br&gt;    5) found in various states, ranging from virgin metal, to common ore&lt;p&gt;Chemical Properties:&lt;p&gt;    1) possess great affinity for gold, silver, platinum, and precious stones&lt;br&gt;    2) able to absorb great quantities of expensive substances&lt;br&gt;    3) may explode spontaneously if left alone with a male&lt;br&gt;    4) insoluable in liquids but activity greatly increased by saturation in&lt;br&gt;       alcohol&lt;br&gt;    5) yields to pressure applied to correct points&lt;p&gt;Uses:&lt;p&gt;    1) highly ornamental, especially in sports carsTests:&lt;br&gt;    2) most powerful money-reducing agent known&lt;br&gt;    3) can be a great aid to relaxation&lt;p&gt;Tests:&lt;p&gt;    1) pure specimen turns a rosy tint if discovered in natural state&lt;br&gt;    2) turns green if placed beside a better specimen&lt;p&gt;Caution:&lt;p&gt;    1) highly dangerous except in experienced hands&lt;br&gt;    2) illegal to posses more than one except in certain areas (Utah, etc.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4658114670396559288?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4658114670396559288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4658114670396559288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4658114670396559288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4658114670396559288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/all-things-you-wanted-to-know-about.html' title='All the things you wanted to know about women'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2053297492935496748</id><published>2007-09-03T18:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T18:02:11.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is the boss?</title><content type='html'>When man was created, all the parts of the body&lt;br&gt;  argued over who would be boss.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      The brain explained that since he controlled the &lt;br&gt;  whole body, that he should be boss.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      The legs argued that since they took the man wherever&lt;br&gt;  he wanted to go, they should be boss.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      The stomach countered with the explanation that since&lt;br&gt;  the man would die without nourishment of food he should be boss.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      The eyes said that without them, the man would be helpless,&lt;br&gt;  so they should be the boss.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      Then the asshole applied for the job.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      The other body parts laughed so hard, that the asshole&lt;br&gt;  got mad and closed up.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      After a few days, the brain went foggy, the legs got&lt;br&gt;  wobbly, the stomach got ill, and the eyes crossed, and could&lt;br&gt;  not see.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      They all gave in, and made the asshole the boss.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      That just proves that you don&amp;#39;t have to be a brain to&lt;br&gt;  be a boss,&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      You just have to be an asshole !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2053297492935496748?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2053297492935496748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2053297492935496748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2053297492935496748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2053297492935496748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/who-is-boss.html' title='Who is the boss?'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3196102785292592771</id><published>2007-09-02T21:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:57.336-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><title type='text'>The Non-Resident Indian Syndrome</title><content type='html'>When an Indian professional becomes a &amp;#39;Non-Resident Indian&amp;#39; in the&lt;br&gt;     United States, he soon starts suffering from a strange disease. The&lt;br&gt;    symptoms are a fixture of restlessness, anxiety, hope and nostalgia.&lt;br&gt;    The virus is a deep inner need to get back home. Like Shakespeare&lt;br&gt;    said, &amp;quot;The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.&amp;quot;  The medical&lt;br&gt;    world has not coined a word for this malady. Strange as it is, it&lt;br&gt;    could go by a stranger name, the &amp;quot;X + 1&amp;quot; syndrome.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;     To understand this disease better, consider the background. Typically&lt;br&gt;     middle-class, the would be migrant&amp;#39;s sole ambition through school is&lt;br&gt;     to secure admission into one of those heavily government subsidised&lt;br&gt;     institutions - the IITs. With the full backing of a doting family and&lt;br&gt;     a good deal of effort, he acheives his goal. Looking for fresh worlds&lt;br&gt;     to conquer, his sights rest on the new world. Like lemmings to the&lt;br&gt;     sea, hordes of IIT graduates descend on the four US consulates to seek&lt;br&gt;     the holiest of holy grails - the F-1 (student) stamp on the passport.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;      After crossing the visa hurdle and tearful farewell, our hero departs&lt;br&gt;       for the Mecca of higher learning, promising himself and his family&lt;br&gt;       that he will return some day - soon!&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;       The family proudly informs their relatives of each milestone - his&lt;br&gt;       G.P.A., his first car (twenty years old), his trip to Niagara Falls&lt;br&gt;       (photographs), his first winter (parkas,gloves). The two years roll by&lt;br&gt;       and he graduates at the top of his class. Now begins the &amp;#39;great&lt;br&gt;       hunt&amp;#39; for a company that will not only give him a job but also sponsor&lt;br&gt;       him for that 3&amp;quot; X 3&amp;quot; grey plastic, otherwise known as the Green Card.&lt;br&gt;       A US company sensing a good bargain offers him a job.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;       Naturally, with all the excitement of seeing his first pay check in&lt;br&gt;       four digit dollars, thoughts of returning to India are far away. His&lt;br&gt;       immediate objective of getting the Green Card is reached within a&lt;br&gt;       year.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;       Meanwhile, his family back home worry about the strange American&lt;br&gt;       influences (and more particularly, AIDS). Through contacts they line&lt;br&gt;       up a list of eligble girls from eligible families and wait for the&lt;br&gt;       great one&amp;#39;s first trip home. Return he does, at the first available&lt;br&gt;       oppurtunity, with gifts for the family and mouth-watering tales of&lt;br&gt;       prosperity beyond imagination. After interviewing the girls, he picks&lt;br&gt;       the most likely (lucky) one to be Americanised. Since the major reason&lt;br&gt;       for the alliance is his long-term stay abroad, the question of his&lt;br&gt;       immediate return does not arise. Any doubts are set aside by the&lt;br&gt;       &amp;#39;backwardnes&amp;#39; of working life, long train travel, lack of phones,&lt;br&gt;       inadequate oppurtunities for someone with hi-tech qualifications, and&lt;br&gt;       so on.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;       The newly-weds return to America with the groom having to explain the&lt;br&gt;       system of arranged marriages to the Americans. Most of them regard it&lt;br&gt;       as barbaric and on the same lines as communism. The tongue-tied bride&lt;br&gt;       is cajoled into explaining the bindi and saree. Looking for something&lt;br&gt;       homely, the couple plunges into the frenetic expatriate week-end&lt;br&gt;       social scene compromising dinners, videos of Hindi/regional films,&lt;br&gt;       shopping at Indian stores, and bhajans.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;       Initially, the wife misses the warmth of her family, but the presence&lt;br&gt;       of washing machines, vacuum cleaners, daytime soap operas and the&lt;br&gt;       absence of a domineering mother-in-law helps. Bits of news filtering&lt;br&gt;       through from India, mostly from returning Indians, is eagerly lapped&lt;br&gt;       up.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;      In discussions with freinds, the topic of returning to India arises&lt;br&gt;      frequently but is brushed aside by the lord and master who is now&lt;br&gt;      rising in the corporate world and has fast moved into a two garage&lt;br&gt;     home - thus fulfilling the great American Dream. The impending arrival&lt;br&gt;     of the first born fulfills the great Indian Dream. The mother-in-law&lt;br&gt;     arrives in time: after all, no right thinking parent would want their&lt;br&gt;     off-spring to be born in India if offered the American alternative.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;     With all material comforts that money can bring, begins the first&lt;br&gt;     signs of un- easiness - a feeling that somehow things are not what&lt;br&gt;     they should be. The craze for exotic electronic goods, cars and&lt;br&gt;     vacations have been satiated. The week-end gatherings are becoming&lt;br&gt;     routine.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;     Faced with a mid-life crisis, the upwardly mobile Indian&amp;#39;s career&lt;br&gt;     graph plateu&amp;#39;s out. Younger and more aggressive Americans are&lt;br&gt;     promoted. With one of the periodic mini recessions in the economy and&lt;br&gt;     the threat of a hostile take-over, the job itself seems far from&lt;br&gt;     secure.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;     Unable or unwilling to socialize with the Americans, the Indian&lt;br&gt;     retreats into a cocoon. At the home front,the children have grown up&lt;br&gt;     and along with American accents have imbibed American habits&lt;br&gt;     (cartoons,hamburgers) and values(dating). They respond to their&lt;br&gt;     parents&amp;#39; exhortation of leading a clean Indian way of life by asking&lt;br&gt;     endless questions.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;     The generation gap combines with the cultural chasm. Not surprisingly,&lt;br&gt;     the first serious thoughts of returning to India occur at this stage.&lt;br&gt;     Taking advantage of his vacation time, the Indian returns home to&lt;br&gt;     &amp;#39;explore&amp;#39; possibilities. Ignoring the underpaid and beaurocratic&lt;br&gt;     government sector, he is bewildered by the &amp;#39;primitive&amp;#39; state of the&lt;br&gt;     private sector. Clearly overqualified even to be a managing&lt;br&gt;     director/chairman he stumbles upon the idea of being an entrepreneur.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;     In the seventies, his search for an arena to display his buisness&lt;br&gt;     skills normally ended in poultry farming. In the eighties, electronics&lt;br&gt;     is the name of the game. Undaunted by horror stories about government&lt;br&gt;     red tape and corruption he is determined to overcome the odds - with&lt;br&gt;     one catch. He has a few things to settle in the United States. After&lt;br&gt;     all, you can&amp;#39;t just throw away a lifetime&amp;#39;s work. And there are things&lt;br&gt;     like taxation and customs regulations to be taken note of. Pressed for&lt;br&gt;     a firm date, he says confidently &amp;#39;next year&amp;#39; and therein lies our&lt;br&gt;     story. The next years come and go but there is no sign of our&lt;br&gt;     McCarthian freind.&lt;br&gt;    &lt;br&gt;     In other words if &amp;#39;X&amp;#39; is the current year, then the objective is to&lt;br&gt;     return in the &amp;#39;X + 1&amp;#39; year. Since &amp;#39;X&amp;#39; is a changing variable, the&lt;br&gt;     objective is never reached. Unable to truly melt in the &amp;#39;Great Melting&lt;br&gt;     Pot&amp;#39;, chained to his cultural moorings and haunted by an abject fear&lt;br&gt;     of giving up an accustomed standard of living, the Non-Resident Indian&lt;br&gt;     vacillates and oscillates between two worlds in a twilight zone.&lt;br&gt;     Strangely, this malady appears to affect only the Indians - all of our&lt;br&gt;     Asian brethren from Japan, Korea and even Pakistan - seem immune to&lt;br&gt;     it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3196102785292592771?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3196102785292592771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3196102785292592771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3196102785292592771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3196102785292592771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/non-resident-indian-syndrome.html' title='The Non-Resident Indian Syndrome'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6533947152857209368</id><published>2007-09-01T10:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.206-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Stupid Jokes 3</title><content type='html'>Husband: I don&amp;#39;t know why you wear a bra; you&amp;#39;ve got nothing to put in&lt;br&gt;      it.&lt;br&gt;       Wife: You wear briefs, don&amp;#39;t you?&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       What&amp;#39;s the difference between a porcupine and a Corvette?&lt;br&gt;           The porcupine has pricks on the outside.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       How many men does it take to pop popcorn?&lt;br&gt;         Three. One to hold the pan and two others to show off and shake&lt;br&gt;      the stove.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       What is a man&amp;#39;s view of safe sex?&lt;br&gt;           A padded headboard.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       How do men sort their laundry?&lt;br&gt;           &amp;quot;Filthy&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Filthy but Wearable&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       Only a man would buy a $500 car and put a $4000 stereo in it.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       Why did God create man?&lt;br&gt;           Because a vibrator can&amp;#39;t mow the lawn.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       Why were men given larger brains than dogs?&lt;br&gt;           So they wouldn&amp;#39;t hump women&amp;#39;s legs at cocktail parties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6533947152857209368?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6533947152857209368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6533947152857209368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6533947152857209368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6533947152857209368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/09/stupid-jokes-3.html' title='Stupid Jokes 3'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1603915587159465186</id><published>2007-08-31T16:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.206-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Stupid Jokes 2</title><content type='html'>Did you hear about the banker who&amp;#39;s a great lover?&lt;br&gt;         He knows first-hand the penalty for early withdrawal.&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;       Why are men like laxatives?&lt;br&gt;           They irritate the crap out of you.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       What do you call an intelligent man in America?&lt;br&gt;           A tourist.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       Why do jocks play on artificial turf?&lt;br&gt;           To keep them from grazing.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       If men got pregnant....&lt;br&gt;         abortion would be available in convienience&lt;br&gt;           stores and drive-through windows.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       Why is it so hard for women to find men that are sensitive, caring, and&lt;br&gt;    good-looking?&lt;br&gt;           Because they already have boyfriends.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       Did you hear about the man who won the gold medal at the Olympics?&lt;br&gt;           He had it bronzed.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       How do some men define Roe vs. Wade?&lt;br&gt;           Two ways to cross a river.&lt;br&gt;         &lt;br&gt;       What is gross stupidity?&lt;br&gt;           144 men in one room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1603915587159465186?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1603915587159465186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1603915587159465186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1603915587159465186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1603915587159465186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/stupid-jokes-2.html' title='Stupid Jokes 2'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1877892314383263578</id><published>2007-08-30T18:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.206-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Stupid Jokes 1</title><content type='html'>What do you call a man with half a brain?&lt;br&gt;         Gifted.&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;     What&amp;#39;s the difference between government bonds and men?&lt;br&gt;         Bonds Mature.&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;     What is the difference between a man and a catfish?&lt;br&gt;         One is a bottom-feeding scum-sucker and the other is a fish.&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;     What did God say after creating man?&lt;br&gt;         I can do better.&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;     Husband: Want a quickie?&lt;br&gt;     Wife: As opposed to what?&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;     Why do men want to marry virgins?&lt;br&gt;         They can&amp;#39;t stand criticism.&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt;     What are two reasons why men don&amp;#39;t mind their own business?&lt;br&gt;         1. No mind.&lt;br&gt;         2. No business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1877892314383263578?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1877892314383263578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1877892314383263578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1877892314383263578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1877892314383263578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/stupid-jokes-1.html' title='Stupid Jokes 1'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-8622678808736179806</id><published>2007-08-29T17:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.740-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>The Wrong Gift, Wrong Person</title><content type='html'>A young man wished to purchase a gift for his new sweetheart&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;     birthday, and as they had not been dating very long, after careful&lt;br&gt;     consideration, he decided a pair of gloves would strike the right&lt;br&gt;     note...romantic, but not too personal.&lt;p&gt;     Accompanied by his sweetheart&amp;#39;s younger sister, he went to Sears and&lt;br&gt;     bought a pair of white gloves. The younger sister purchased a pair of&lt;br&gt;     panties for herself.&lt;p&gt;     During the wrapping, the clerk mixed up the items and the sister got&lt;br&gt;     the gloves and the sweetheart got the panties. Without checking the&lt;br&gt;     contents, he sealed the package and mailed it to his sweetheart along&lt;br&gt;     with this note:&lt;p&gt;      Darling,&lt;p&gt;     I chose these because I noticed that you are not in the habit of&lt;br&gt;     wearing any when we go out in the evening. If it had not been for your&lt;br&gt;     sister,&lt;br&gt;     I would have chosen the long ones with buttons, but she wears short&lt;br&gt;     ones that are easy to remove.&lt;p&gt;     These are a delicate shade, but the lady I bought them from showed me&lt;br&gt;     the pair she had been wearing for the past three weeks and they were&lt;br&gt;     hardly soiled. I had her try yours on for me and she looked really&lt;br&gt;     smart.&lt;p&gt;     I wish I was there to put them on you for the first time, as no doubt&lt;br&gt;     other hands will come in contact with them before I have a chance to&lt;br&gt;     see you again.&lt;p&gt;     When you take them off, remember to blow in them before putting them&lt;br&gt;     away as they will naturally be a little damp from wearing.&lt;p&gt;     Just think how many times I will kiss them during the coming year. I I&lt;br&gt;     hope you will wear them for me on Friday night.&lt;p&gt;     All my love,&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;     P.S. The latest style is to wear them folded down with a little fur&lt;br&gt;     showing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-8622678808736179806?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/8622678808736179806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=8622678808736179806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8622678808736179806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/8622678808736179806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/wrong-gift-wrong-person.html' title='The Wrong Gift, Wrong Person'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6377065394513760447</id><published>2007-08-28T13:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.741-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Being an Indian</title><content type='html'>Being an Indian, I have the right to fly any airline but Air India. I&lt;br&gt;have the right to curse workers on Indian airports for the little bit&lt;br&gt;courtesy I receive and eulogize the clerks and police on other airports&lt;br&gt;for their rude behaviour. Being an Indian I have the undeniable right to&lt;br&gt;try to smuggle electronic goods into India and then pay a bribe to get&lt;br&gt;them officially into India. Oh yes, nobody else is as anguished about the&lt;br&gt;corrupt practices of the customs officials as I. &lt;p&gt;   Being an Indian, I have the right to photocopy entire books, no matter&lt;br&gt;which country I am in. Being an Indian in the US, I am preoccupied with&lt;br&gt;finding out which airline is the cheapest to fly to India, which telephone&lt;br&gt;company is the cheapest to call India and this is what I talk with my fellow&lt;br&gt;Indians most of the time. Sometimes I find the 78 c/min too expensive to call,&lt;br&gt;so either I pay a crook a few bucks and talk with my family for half an hour&lt;br&gt;with the courtesy of the perpetually loss making Indian telephone dept, or I&lt;br&gt;ask my father to search for a connection in the telephone dept. Being an&lt;br&gt;Indian, I have the right to buy something which I cannot afford, use it for&lt;br&gt;some time, then return it for full refund.&lt;p&gt;   Being an Indian, I must read India Today and other Indian magazines (hidden&lt;br&gt;clause: I shouldn&amp;#39;t have to pay for it) and then lecture for hours how India&lt;br&gt;is going to dogs. Being an Indian, I have the right to lament India&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;performance at Asian Games and Olympics, although I am not good at any sport,&lt;br&gt;neither do I have a liking for any. I used to love cricket when India was world&lt;br&gt;champion, but now I despise it because India loses to Pakistan most of the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6377065394513760447?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6377065394513760447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6377065394513760447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6377065394513760447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6377065394513760447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/being-indian.html' title='Being an Indian'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7912374843331238446</id><published>2007-08-27T12:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T12:00:08.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exam Questiosn that are never meant to appear in Exams</title><content type='html'>Instructions:   Read   each   question   carefully.   Answer  all&lt;br&gt;   questions.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Time limit:  2 hours.  Begin immediately.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   History:  Describe  the history of the Papacy from its origins to&lt;br&gt;   the present day, concentrating especially, but  not  exclusively,&lt;br&gt;   on  its  social, political, economic, religious and philosophical&lt;br&gt;   impact on Europe, Asia, America and Africa.   Be  brief,  concise&lt;br&gt;   and specific.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Medicine:  You  have been provided with a razor blade, a piece of&lt;br&gt;   gauze, and a bottle of scotch.  Remove  your  appendix.   Do  not&lt;br&gt;   suture  until  you  work  has  been  inspected.  You have fifteen&lt;br&gt;   minutes.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Public Speaking: 2500 riot-crazed  aborigines  are  storming  the&lt;br&gt;   classroom.   Calm  them.  You may use any ancient language except&lt;br&gt;   Latin or Greek.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Biology:  Create  life.   Estimate  the differences in subsequent&lt;br&gt;   human culture if this form of  life  had  developed  500  million&lt;br&gt;   years  earlier,  with special attention to its probable effect on&lt;br&gt;   the English Parliamentary System.  Prove your thesis.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Music:  Write  a piano concerto.  Orchestrate and perform it with&lt;br&gt;   flute and drum.  You will find a piano under your seat.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Physchology: Based on your knowledge of their works, evaluate the&lt;br&gt;   emotional   stability,   degree   of  adjustment,  and  repressed&lt;br&gt;   frustrations of each of the following: Alexander  of  Aphrodisis,&lt;br&gt;   Rameses  II, Hammuarabi.  Support your evaluation with quotations&lt;br&gt;   from each man&amp;#39;s work, making appropriate references.    It is not&lt;br&gt;   necessary to translate.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Sociology:   Estimate   the  sociological  problems  which  might&lt;br&gt;   accompany the end of the world.  Construct an experiment to  test&lt;br&gt;   your theory.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Engineering:  The disassembled parts of a high-powered rifle have&lt;br&gt;   been placed on your desk.  You  will  also  find  an  instruction&lt;br&gt;   manual, printed in Swahili.  In 10 minutes, a hungry bengal tiger&lt;br&gt;   will be admitted to the room.   Take  whatever  action  you  feel&lt;br&gt;   necessary.  Be prepared to justify your decision.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Economics:  Develop a realistic plan for refinancing the national&lt;br&gt;   debt.  Trace the possible effects of your plan in  the  following&lt;br&gt;   areas:  Cubism,  the  Donatist Controversy and the Wave Theory of&lt;br&gt;   Light.  Outline a method for preventing these effects.  Criticize&lt;br&gt;   this  method  from  all  possible  points of view.  Point out the&lt;br&gt;   deficiencies in your point  of  view,  as  demonstrated  in  your&lt;br&gt;   answer to the last question.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Political  Science:  There  is a red telephone on the desk beside&lt;br&gt;   you.   Start  World  War  III.    Report   at   length   on   its&lt;br&gt;   socio-political effects if any.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Epistemology:  Take  a  position  for or against truth. Prove the&lt;br&gt;   validity of your stand.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Physics: Explain the nature of matter.  Include in your answer an &lt;br&gt;   evaluation  of  the  impact  of the development of mathematics on&lt;br&gt;   science.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   Philosophy: Sketch the development of  human  thought.   Estimate&lt;br&gt;   its significance.  Compare with the development of any other kind&lt;br&gt;   of thought.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   General   Knowledge:   Describe  in  detail.   Be  objective  and&lt;br&gt;   specific.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7912374843331238446?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7912374843331238446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7912374843331238446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7912374843331238446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7912374843331238446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/exam-questiosn-that-are-never-meant-to.html' title='Exam Questiosn that are never meant to appear in Exams'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4240301125934738829</id><published>2007-08-27T05:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:58.719-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>52 Good reasons why Beer is Better than Women!!!!</title><content type='html'>1.  You can enjoy a beer all night long.&lt;br&gt; 2.  Beer stains wash out.&lt;br&gt; 3.  You don&amp;#39;t have to wine and dine beer.&lt;br&gt; 4.  A beer will wait in the car while you go and play football.&lt;br&gt; 5.  When your beer goes flat, you toss it out.&lt;br&gt; 6.  Beer is never late.&lt;br&gt; 7.  A beer doesn&amp;#39;t get jealous when you grab another beer.&lt;br&gt; 8.  Hangovers go away&lt;br&gt; 9.  Beer labels come off without a fight.&lt;br&gt; 10. When you go to a bar, you can always pick up a beer.&lt;br&gt; 11. Beer never has a headache.&lt;br&gt; 12. After you&amp;#39;ve had a beer, the bottle is still worth 5 cents.&lt;br&gt; 13. A beer won&amp;#39;t get upset if you come home and have another beer.&lt;br&gt; 14. If you pour a beer right, you&amp;#39;ll always get good head.&lt;br&gt; 15. A beer goes down easy.&lt;br&gt; 16. You can have more than one beer in a night and not feel guilty.&lt;br&gt; 17. You can share a beer with your friends.&lt;br&gt; 18. You always know you&amp;#39;re the first one to pop a beer.&lt;br&gt; 19. Beer is always wet.&lt;br&gt; 20. Beer doesn&amp;#39;t demand equality.&lt;br&gt; 21. You can have a beer in public.&lt;br&gt; 22. A beer doesn&amp;#39;t care when you come.&lt;br&gt; 23. A frigid beer is a good beer.&lt;br&gt; 24. You don&amp;#39;t have to wash a beer before it tastes good.&lt;br&gt; 25. If you change beers, you don&amp;#39;t have to pay alimony.&lt;br&gt; 26. You can&amp;#39;t catch social diseases from a beer.&lt;br&gt; 27. When your interrupted by a beer it&amp;#39;s for a good reason.&lt;br&gt; 28. A beer is always satisfying.&lt;br&gt; 29. A beer gets lighter the longer you hold it.&lt;br&gt; 30. A beer won&amp;#39;t tell you its pregnant for fun.&lt;br&gt; 31. A beer does not come with inlaws.&lt;br&gt; 32. No matter what the package, a beer still looks good.&lt;br&gt; 33. To cool off a beer, all you have to do is put it in the ice box.&lt;br&gt; 34. All you have to do to get over a beer is take a leak.&lt;br&gt; 35. Beer doesn&amp;#39;t complain about farting.&lt;br&gt; 36. The only thing a beer tells you is when its time to go to the bathroom.&lt;br&gt; 37. You are never embarraessed about the beer you bring to a party.&lt;br&gt; 38. Its okay to leave a party with a different beer than the one you&lt;br&gt; bought.&lt;br&gt; 39. Beer won&amp;#39;t drive you to drink.&lt;br&gt; 40. You can shoot a beer.&lt;br&gt; 41. A beer chaser is easier to catch.&lt;br&gt; 42.  You don&amp;#39;t need a license to live with a beer.&lt;br&gt; 43.  A tree is good enough for a beer.&lt;br&gt; 44.  Beer doesn&amp;#39;t grow hair where it shouldn&amp;#39;t.&lt;br&gt; 45.  Beer doesn&amp;#39;t care how much you earn.&lt;br&gt; 46.  Beer and &amp;quot;ice&amp;quot; don&amp;#39;t mix.&lt;br&gt; 47.  Beer won&amp;#39;t complain about your choice of vacation - it goes along&lt;br&gt; happily.&lt;br&gt; 48.  Beer doesn&amp;#39;t care if you go to sleep right after you&amp;#39;ve had it.&lt;br&gt; 49.  Beer is happy to ride in the truck of your car.&lt;br&gt; 50.  You never have to promise to respect a beer in the morning.&lt;br&gt; 51.  Beer never complains about a wet spot.&lt;br&gt; 52.  You can put all your old beers together in one room and they won&amp;#39;t&lt;br&gt; fight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4240301125934738829?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4240301125934738829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4240301125934738829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4240301125934738829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4240301125934738829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/52-good-reasons-why-beer-is-better-than.html' title='52 Good reasons why Beer is Better than Women!!!!'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-5039582930113251961</id><published>2007-08-25T20:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:57.336-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>This is how American Capitalism work</title><content type='html'>A 12-year-old American lad asked his father, who was an economics&lt;br&gt; professor at Harvard, how American capitalism worked.&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot;Well&amp;quot; said his dad, &amp;quot;I make money.  That is Capital.  Your mother&lt;br&gt; runs the home.  That is Management, while the maid, who is Labour,&lt;br&gt; does the work.&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot;You are Production, the result of co-operation between Capital&lt;br&gt; and Management, while your baby brother is the Future.&lt;p&gt; &amp;quot;That night the lad heard his baby brother crying because his&lt;br&gt; nappy was dirty, so he went in search of his mother, but she was fast&lt;br&gt; asleep.&lt;p&gt; Eventually he decided to wake the maid, only to find his father&lt;br&gt; hiding behind her bedroom door.  His father gane him a wallop and&lt;br&gt; sent him back to bed.&lt;p&gt; The next day he said to his father: &amp;quot;Now I know exactly how&lt;br&gt; capitalism works.  &amp;quot;Management is asleep, Capital is exploiting&lt;br&gt; Labour, Production is hard hit, and the Future stinks!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-5039582930113251961?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/5039582930113251961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=5039582930113251961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5039582930113251961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/5039582930113251961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-is-how-american-capitalism-work.html' title='This is how American Capitalism work'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7181308925283199099</id><published>2007-08-15T23:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T23:25:15.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Women Vs. Martha Stewart</title><content type='html'>Martha&amp;#39;s way #1&lt;br&gt;Stuff a miniature marshmallow in the bottom of a sugar cone to prevent ice cream drips.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for Pete&amp;#39;s sake,you are probably lying on the couch, with your feet up, eating it anyway.&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #2:&lt;br&gt;To keep potatoes from budding, place an apple in the bag with the potatoes.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;Buy Hungry Jack mashed potato mix and keep it in the pantry for up to a year.&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #3:&lt;br&gt;When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking pan, use a bit of the dry cake mix instead and there won&amp;#39;t be any white mess on the outside of the cake.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;Go to the bakery. They&amp;#39;ll even decorate it for you.&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #4:&lt;br&gt;If you accidentally over salt a dish while it&amp;#39;s still cooking, drop in a peeled potato and it will absorb the excess salt for an instant &amp;quot;fix me up.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;If you over salt a dish while you are cooking, that&amp;#39;s too damn bad. Please recite with me, The Real Women&amp;#39;s motto: I made it and you will eat it and I don&amp;#39;t care how bad it tastes.&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #5:&lt;br&gt;Wrap celery in aluminum foil when putting in the refrigerator and it will keep for weeks.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;Celery? Never heard of the stuff.&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #6:&lt;br&gt;Brush some beaten egg white over pie crust before baking to yield a beautiful glossy finish.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;The Mrs. Smith frozen pie directions do not include brushing egg whites over the crust so I just don&amp;#39;t do it.&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #7:&lt;br&gt;Cure for headaches: Take a lime, cut it in half and rub it on your forehead. The throbbing will go away.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;Martha, dear, the only reason this works is because you can&amp;#39;t rub a lime on your forehead without getting lime juice in your eye, and then the problem isn&amp;#39;t the headache anymore, YOU&amp;#39;RE NOW BLIND!&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #8:&lt;br&gt;If you have a problem opening jars: Try using latex dish washing gloves. They give a non slip grip that makes opening jars easy.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;Go ask the very cute neighbor to do it.&lt;p&gt;Martha&amp;#39;s way #9:&lt;br&gt;Don&amp;#39;t throw out all that leftover wine. Freeze into ice cubes for future use in casseroles and sauces.&lt;p&gt;The Real Women&amp;#39;s Way:&lt;br&gt;Leftover wine??????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7181308925283199099?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7181308925283199099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7181308925283199099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7181308925283199099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7181308925283199099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/real-women-vs-martha-stewart.html' title='Real Women Vs. Martha Stewart'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6878527522508016883</id><published>2007-08-15T22:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T22:14:15.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3 Engineers from Microsoft, Apple and Google</title><content type='html'>Three engineers were in the bathroom standing at the urinals. The first software engineer finished and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He then proceeded to dry his hands very carefully. He used paper towel after paper towel and ensured that every single spot of water on his hands was dried. Turning to the other two engineers, he said, &amp;quot;At   Microsoft , we are trained to be extremely thorough.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;The second electronics engineer finished his task at the urinal and he proceeded to wash his hands. He used a single paper towel and made sure that he dried his hands using every available portion of the paper towel. He turned and said, &amp;quot;At Apple, not only are we trained to be extremely thorough, but we are also trained to be extremely efficient.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;The third Mechanical engineer finished and walked straight for the door, shouting over his shoulder, &amp;quot;At Google we don&amp;#39;t pee on our hands.&amp;quot;   &lt;p&gt;That&amp;#39;s why we say,&amp;quot; Google makes the world &amp;quot;!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6878527522508016883?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6878527522508016883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6878527522508016883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6878527522508016883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6878527522508016883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/3-engineers-from-microsoft-apple-and.html' title='3 Engineers from Microsoft, Apple and Google'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-2900433039562651963</id><published>2007-08-13T20:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.741-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Little Greeting</title><content type='html'>Hi&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;This little greeting,&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m sending your way.&lt;br&gt;Hoping that maybe, &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll brighten your day! &lt;p&gt;With it comes happiness,&lt;br&gt;Love and good cheer.&lt;br&gt;Wishing you laughter, &lt;br&gt;Throughout the whole year.&lt;p&gt;Not a tear in your eye,&lt;br&gt;But a smile on your face.&lt;br&gt;One that&amp;#39;s so bright and can, &lt;br&gt;light up the darkest place &lt;p&gt;Laughter ringing,&lt;br&gt;So loud and so true.&lt;br&gt;That no one around you, &lt;br&gt;Could ever be blue.&lt;p&gt;Just remember these wishes,&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m sending your way.&lt;br&gt;Just hoping that maybe, &lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;ll have a nice day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-2900433039562651963?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/2900433039562651963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=2900433039562651963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2900433039562651963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/2900433039562651963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/little-greeting.html' title='Little Greeting'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7085852828976531837</id><published>2007-08-12T19:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:57.337-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>The Cure</title><content type='html'>The Cure. Cliff had, had it. &lt;p&gt;Finally, worried to death, he went to a psychiatrist.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Doc,&amp;quot; he said, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;ve got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I think there&amp;#39;s somebody under it. I&amp;#39;m going crazy!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Just put yourself in my hands for one year,&amp;quot; said the shrink. &amp;quot;Come talk to me three times a week, and we should be able to get rid of those fears. &amp;quot;How much will that cost me?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Eighty dollars per visit,&amp;quot; replied the doctor.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;ll sleep on it,&amp;quot; said Jerry.&lt;p&gt;Six months later the doctor met Cliff on the street. &amp;quot;Why didn&amp;#39;t you ever come to see about those fears you were having?&amp;quot; asked the psychiatrist.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Well.... Eighty bucks a visit three times a week for a year is an awful lot of money! I found a bartender who cured me for $10. I was so happy to have saved all that money I went and bought me a new pickup!&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Is that so! And How, may I ask, did a bartender cure you?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;He told me to cut the legs off the bed! Ain&amp;#39;t nobody under there now!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7085852828976531837?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7085852828976531837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7085852828976531837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7085852828976531837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7085852828976531837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/cure.html' title='The Cure'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-3757431293650111178</id><published>2007-08-11T20:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.741-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Tell Kind Words</title><content type='html'>One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. &lt;p&gt;Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. &lt;p&gt;It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in the papers. &lt;p&gt;That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said about that individual. &lt;p&gt;On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. &amp;quot;Really?&amp;quot; she heard whispered. &amp;quot;I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!&amp;quot; and, &amp;quot;I didn&amp;#39;t know others liked me so much,&amp;quot; were most of the comments. &lt;p&gt;No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn&amp;#39;t matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on. &lt;p&gt;Several years later, one of the students was killed in &lt;p&gt;VietNam and his teacher attended the funeral of that special student. She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He looked so handsome, so mature. &lt;p&gt;The church was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was the last one to bless the coffin. &lt;p&gt;As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to her. &amp;quot;Were you Mark&amp;#39;s math teacher?&amp;quot; he asked. She nodded: &amp;quot;yes.&amp;quot; Then he said: &amp;quot;Mark talked about you a lot.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;After the funeral, most of Mark&amp;#39;s former classmates went together to a luncheon. Mark&amp;#39;s mother and father were there, obviously waiting to speak with his teacher. &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;We want to show you something,&amp;quot; his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket &amp;quot;They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. The teacher knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of Mark&amp;#39;s classmates had said about him. &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Thank you so much for doing that,&amp;quot; Mark&amp;#39;s mother said. &amp;quot;As you can see, Mark treasured it.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;All of Mark&amp;#39;s former classmates started to gather around. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, &amp;quot;I still have my list. It&amp;#39;s in the top drawer of my desk at home.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;Chuck&amp;#39;s wife said, &amp;quot;Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;I have mine too,&amp;quot; Marilyn said. &amp;quot;It&amp;#39;s in my diary&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. &amp;quot;I carry this with me at all times,&amp;quot; Vicki said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: &amp;quot;I think we all saved our lists&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;That&amp;#39;s when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again. &lt;p&gt;The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don&amp;#39;t know when that one day will be. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-3757431293650111178?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/3757431293650111178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=3757431293650111178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3757431293650111178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/3757431293650111178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/tell-kind-words.html' title='Tell Kind Words'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1507392729130914982</id><published>2007-08-10T19:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:57.337-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>Tales of Grandparents</title><content type='html'>Grandparents contribute a special relationship to a child that no one else can give them. &lt;p&gt;They can always be counted upon to buy anything you &amp;#39; re selling ... from all-purpose greeting cards to peanut brittle ... from flower seeds to cookies ... from transparent tape to ten chances on a pony. &lt;p&gt;A grandparent buys you gifts your mother says you don&amp;#39; t need.    &lt;p&gt;A grandparent pretends he doesn &amp;#39; t know who you are on Halloween.  &lt;p&gt;A grandparent will put a sweater on you when she is cold, feed you when she is hungry and put you to bed when she is tired.  &lt;p&gt;A grandparent will frame a picture of your hand that you traced over the brocade sofa in the Mediterranean living room. &lt;p&gt;A grandparent will check to see if you are crying when you are sound asleep.  &lt;p&gt;A grandparent is the only babysitter who doesn &amp;#39; t charge money to keep you. &lt;p&gt;A grandparent will believe you can read when you have the book upside down.  &lt;p&gt;When a grandchild says, &amp;quot;Grandma, how come you didn &amp;#39; t have any children?&amp;quot; a grandparent will fight back the tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1507392729130914982?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1507392729130914982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1507392729130914982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1507392729130914982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1507392729130914982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/tales-of-grandparents.html' title='Tales of Grandparents'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-704416474082210176</id><published>2007-08-09T19:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.745-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Lovely Quotes</title><content type='html'>1) &lt;p&gt;U love someone&lt;p&gt;U marry someone else.&lt;br&gt;The one u marry becomes ur wife or husband.&lt;br&gt;And the one u loved, becomes the password of ur mail id&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;2)&lt;br&gt;There&amp;#39;s only one perfect child in the world &amp;amp; every mother has it.&lt;p&gt;There&amp;#39;s only one perfect wife in the world &amp;amp; every neighbour has it.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;3) &lt;br&gt;Three dreams of a man:&lt;p&gt;To be as handsome as his mother thinks.&lt;br&gt;To be as rich as his child believes.&lt;br&gt;To have as many women as his wife suspects...&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;4) &lt;br&gt;Husband &amp;amp; wife are like liver and kidney.&lt;p&gt;Husband is liver &amp;amp; wife kidney.&lt;br&gt;If liver fails, kidney fails.&lt;br&gt;If kidney fails, liver manages with other kidney&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;5) &lt;br&gt;If you want happiness for an hour           Take a Nap&lt;p&gt;    If you want happiness for a day              Go on a Picnic&lt;br&gt;    If you want happiness for a week           Go on a Vacation&lt;br&gt;    If you want happiness for a month          Get Married&lt;br&gt;    If you want happiness for a year             Inherit Wealth&lt;br&gt;If you want happiness for a life time        Learn to Love What you do !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-704416474082210176?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/704416474082210176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=704416474082210176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/704416474082210176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/704416474082210176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/lovely-quotes.html' title='Lovely Quotes'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-7696084622721077708</id><published>2007-08-08T19:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.745-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Love Poem</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;d become the rain&lt;br&gt;And gently wash over you&lt;br&gt;Cleansing your worries away.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;d become the sun&lt;br&gt;Kissing you softly&lt;br&gt;Wrapping you in my warmth.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;d become the storm &lt;br&gt;With nature&amp;#39;s power so pure&lt;br&gt;Exciting, enticing, and satisfying.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;d become the breeze&lt;br&gt;Caressing you gently with whispers-&lt;br&gt;I Love You, my dear Friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-7696084622721077708?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/7696084622721077708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=7696084622721077708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7696084622721077708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/7696084622721077708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/love-poem.html' title='Love Poem'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1079271360981335915</id><published>2007-08-07T19:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T19:30:13.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Customer Support Calls</title><content type='html'>These &amp;quot;tech support calls &amp;quot; have been around in e-mails and online since the dawn of tech support.  &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Customer: Hi, this is Celine. I can&amp;#39;t get my diskette out. &lt;br&gt;Tech support: Have you tried pushing the Button? &lt;p&gt;Customer: Yes, sure, it&amp;#39;s really stuck. &lt;br&gt;Tech support: That doesn&amp;#39;t sound good; I&amp;#39;ll make a note. &lt;p&gt;Customer: No, wait a minute... I hadn&amp;#39;t inserted it yet... it&amp;#39;s still on my desk... Sorry.... &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tech support: What kind of computer do you have? &lt;br&gt;Female customer: A white one... &lt;p&gt;Tech support: Click on the &amp;#39;my computer&amp;#39; icon on to the left of the screen. &lt;br&gt;Customer:  Your left or my left? &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tech support: Good day. How may I help you? &lt;br&gt;Male customer: Hello... I can&amp;#39;t print. &lt;p&gt;Tech support: Would you click on &amp;quot;start&amp;quot; for me and... &lt;br&gt;Customer: Listen pal; don&amp;#39;t start getting technical on me! I&amp;#39;m not Bill Gates. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Customer: Hi, good afternoon, this is Martha, I can&amp;#39;t print. Every time I try, it says &amp;#39;Can&amp;#39;t find printer&amp;#39;. I&amp;#39;ve even lifted the printer and placed it in front of the monitor, but the computer still says he can&amp;#39;t find it...   &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Customer: I have problems printing in red... &lt;br&gt;Tech support: Do you have a color printer? &lt;p&gt;Customer: Aaaah....................thank you. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tech support: What&amp;#39;s on your monitor now, ma&amp;#39;am? &lt;br&gt;Customer: A teddy bear my boyfriend bought for me at the 7-11. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Customer:  My keyboard is not working anymore. &lt;br&gt;Tech support: Are you sure it&amp;#39;s plugged into the computer? &lt;p&gt;Customer:  No. I can&amp;#39;t get behind the computer. &lt;br&gt;Tech support: Pick up your keyboard and walk 10 paces back &lt;p&gt;Customer:  OK &lt;p&gt;Tech support: Did the keyboard come with you? &lt;br&gt;Customer: Yes &lt;p&gt;Tech support:  That means the keyboard is not plugged in. Is there another keyboard? &lt;br&gt;Customer: Yes, there&amp;#39;s another one here. Ah...that one does work... &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tech support: Your password is the small letter &amp;quot;a&amp;quot; as in apple, a capital letter V as in Victor, the number 7. &lt;br&gt;Customer: Is that 7 in capital letters? &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Customer: I can&amp;#39;t get on the Internet. &lt;br&gt;Tech support: Are you sure you used the right password? &lt;p&gt;Customer: Yes, I&amp;#39;m sure. I saw my colleague do it. &lt;br&gt;Tech support: Can you tell me what the password was? &lt;p&gt;Customer: Five stars. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Tech support: What anti-virus program do you use? &lt;br&gt;Customer: Netscape.&lt;p&gt;Tech support: That&amp;#39;s not an anti-virus program. &lt;br&gt;Customer : Oh, sorry...Internet Explorer. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Customer:  I have a huge problem. A friend has placed a screen saver on my computer, but every time I move the mouse, it disappears. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Tech support: How may I help you? &lt;br&gt;Customer: I&amp;#39;m writing my first e-mail. &lt;p&gt;Tech support: OK, and what seems to be the problem? &lt;br&gt;Customer: Well, I have the letter &amp;#39;a&amp;#39; in the address, but how do I get the circle around it?   &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;A woman customer called the Canon help desk with a problem with her printer. &lt;br&gt;Tech support: Are you running it under windows? &lt;p&gt;Customer: &amp;quot;No, my desk is next to the door, but that is a good point. The man sitting in the cubicle next to me is under a window, and his printer is working fine.&amp;quot;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;**********&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;And last but not least... &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tech support: &amp;quot;Okay Bob, let&amp;#39;s press the control and escape keys at the same time. That brings up a task list in the middle of the screen. Now type the letter &amp;quot;P&amp;quot; to bring up the Program Manager&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;Customer: I don&amp;#39;t have a P. &lt;p&gt;Tech support: On your keyboard, Bob. &lt;br&gt;Customer: What do you mean? &lt;p&gt;Tech support: &amp;quot;P&amp;quot;.....on your keyboard, Bob. &lt;br&gt;Customer:  I&amp;#39;M NOT GOING TO DO THAT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1079271360981335915?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1079271360981335915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1079271360981335915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1079271360981335915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1079271360981335915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/funny-customer-support-calls.html' title='Funny Customer Support Calls'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4892107691071592979</id><published>2007-08-06T19:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.207-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Superman Joke</title><content type='html'>This happened in Jeddah Airport in Saudi Arabia &lt;p&gt;One Indian passenger named Anantharaman Subbaraman arrived at Jeddah airport. &lt;p&gt;He ended up waiting for his visa for about 2 hrs for the authorities to call his name... &lt;p&gt;Finally, he got wild and went to the Saudi authorities and shouted why they haven&amp;#39;t called his name yet. &lt;p&gt;They retaliated &amp;amp; claimed that they have been calling him for the last hour and a half ......... and were wondering why he hadn&amp;#39;t responded! &lt;p&gt;The reason was made clear when the Saudi immigration officer announced his name again on the microphone as : &amp;#39;Anotherman Superman&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4892107691071592979?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4892107691071592979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4892107691071592979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4892107691071592979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4892107691071592979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/superman-joke.html' title='Superman Joke'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-4727412649001096856</id><published>2007-08-05T19:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:40.394-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='success'/><title type='text'>Life's Little Lessons</title><content type='html'>Don&amp;#39;t force a fit. If something is meant to be, it will come together naturally.&lt;br&gt;When things aren&amp;#39;t going so well, take a break. Everything will look different when you return.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Be sure to look at the big picture. Getting hung up on the little pieces only leads to frustration.&lt;br&gt;Perseverance pays off. Every important puzzle went together bit by bit, piece by piece.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;When one spot stops working, move to another. But be sure to come back later (see above).&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The creator of the puzzle gave you the picture as a guidebook.&lt;br&gt;Variety is the spice of life.  It&amp;#39;s the different colors and patterns that make the puzzle interesting.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Establish the border first. Boundaries give a sense of security and order.&lt;br&gt;Don&amp;#39;t be afraid to try different combinations. Some matches are surprising.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Take time to celebrate your successes (even little ones).&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anything worth doing takes time and effort. A great puzzle can&amp;#39;t be rushed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-4727412649001096856?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/4727412649001096856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=4727412649001096856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4727412649001096856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/4727412649001096856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/lifes-little-lessons.html' title='Life&apos;s Little Lessons'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1328163422214016054</id><published>2007-08-04T19:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:05:01.207-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Spanish Jokes</title><content type='html'>A Spanish teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine. &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;House&amp;quot; for instance, is feminine: &amp;quot;la casa.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Pencil,&amp;quot; however, is masculine: &amp;quot;el lapiz.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;A student asked, &amp;quot;What gender is &amp;#39;computer&amp;#39;?&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether &amp;quot;computer&amp;quot; should be a masculine or a feminine noun. &lt;p&gt;Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation. &lt;p&gt;The men&amp;#39;s group decided that &amp;quot;computer&amp;quot; should definitely be of the feminine gender (&amp;quot;la computadora&amp;quot;), because: &lt;p&gt;1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic; &lt;p&gt;2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else; &lt;p&gt;3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and &lt;p&gt;4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it. &lt;p&gt;The women&amp;#39;s group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine (&amp;quot;el computador&amp;quot;), because: &lt;p&gt;1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on; &lt;p&gt;2. They have a lot of data but still can&amp;#39;t think for themselves; &lt;p&gt;3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and &lt;p&gt;4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you could have gotten a better model&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1328163422214016054?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1328163422214016054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1328163422214016054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1328163422214016054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1328163422214016054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/spanish-jokes.html' title='Spanish Jokes'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-6746653524913636453</id><published>2007-08-03T19:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.746-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='general'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Life's Ups and Downs</title><content type='html'>Falling in love.&lt;br&gt;Falling off a cliff.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;Having your 2:00 appointment cancelled on a beautiful day.&lt;br&gt;Having your 2:00 appointment cancelled because it&amp;#39;s storming.&lt;p&gt;Watching your child do something for the first time.&lt;br&gt;Watching your child leave home.&lt;p&gt;A great idea.&lt;br&gt;A great idea that someone stole from you.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;  A hot shower on a cold morning.&lt;br&gt;A cold shower on a cold morning.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;A hug.&lt;br&gt;A honk.&lt;p&gt;A walk in the rain.&lt;br&gt;A walk in the acid rain.&lt;p&gt;Holding someone you love in front of a fireplace.&lt;br&gt;Not having a fireplace.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;  Catching snowflakes on your tongue.&lt;br&gt;Catching a love bug on your tongue.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;Seeing a shooting star.&lt;br&gt;Seeing someone shooting an animal.&lt;p&gt;Tailgating on a warm Sunday afternoon.&lt;br&gt;Getting pulled over for tailgating.&lt;p&gt;Clean sheets.&lt;br&gt;Spilling milk in your clean sheets.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;Falling asleep in the sun on a cool spring day.&lt;br&gt;Falling asleep in the sun at noon on the beach with no sunscreen.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;  &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;Hugging a big teddy bear.&lt;br&gt;Hugging a big, sweaty sumo wrestler.&lt;p&gt;Playing miniature golf.&lt;br&gt;Playing miniature pool.&lt;p&gt;Catching your favorite TV show.&lt;br&gt;Realizing you&amp;#39;ve wasted your time watching your favorite TV show.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;  Laughing so hard&lt;br&gt;your face hurts.&lt;br&gt;Laughing so hard&lt;br&gt;you snort your drink.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;   &lt;br&gt;Listening to classical music.&lt;br&gt;Listening to &amp;quot;Polka, Polka, Polka&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;Finding out a sweater you like is half price.&lt;br&gt;Finding out a sweater you like is ugly.&lt;p&gt;Birthday cakes.&lt;br&gt;Cow pies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-6746653524913636453?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/6746653524913636453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=6746653524913636453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6746653524913636453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/6746653524913636453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/lifes-ups-and-downs.html' title='Life&apos;s Ups and Downs'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5253054438043189344.post-1520147800746537246</id><published>2007-08-01T19:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T05:08:15.747-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Real Meaning of Friendship</title><content type='html'>Like flowers they need to bloom slow&lt;br&gt;Allowing loving friendships to grow&lt;br&gt;Friendships can be a lifetime treasure&lt;br&gt;Allowing growth without pressure &lt;p&gt;Just as flowers need attention&lt;br&gt;Friendships need love, not contention&lt;br&gt;As flowers of all shades&lt;br&gt;Loving friendships won&amp;#39;t fade&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Friendships need to connect&lt;br&gt;In time they earn respect&lt;br&gt;Just as flowers have roots&lt;br&gt;In time developed strong shoots&lt;p&gt;Friendships are like the ivy vine&lt;br&gt;Becoming stronger they entwine&lt;br&gt;Truest colors of the rose&lt;br&gt;True sincerity friends expose&lt;p&gt; I love and appreciate all my friends&lt;br&gt;Thankful to God above love transcends&lt;br&gt;Rather have my friends then gold, diamonds or jewels &lt;br&gt;All of my friends live by the Golden Rule.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5253054438043189344-1520147800746537246?l=jollycow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/feeds/1520147800746537246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5253054438043189344&amp;postID=1520147800746537246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1520147800746537246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5253054438043189344/posts/default/1520147800746537246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jollycow.blogspot.com/2007/08/real-meaning-of-friendship.html' title='Real Meaning of Friendship'/><author><name>Thiru Murugan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090176496897385265</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
