﻿<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:blogChannel="http://www.grab.com"><channel><title>Poems,Pictures,and Jokes!</title><link>http://blogs.grab.com</link><description>Poems,Pictures,and Jokes!</description><copyright>Copyright 2005 Intermix Media Inc.</copyright><generator>Grab.com</generator><item><title>Old Lady!!! XXX</title><link>http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/440783</link><description>
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;This is my last blog for awhile. I will still be checking out all your blogs and commenting. There will be times I won't be&amp;nbsp;able to comment&amp;nbsp;on blogs do to having appointments and other things I need to take care of. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;You are all wonderful people. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;I am honored to call all of you my dear friends. Thanks for being there when I needed someone. :-)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;I thought I would post one more joke. LOL&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i20.tinypic.com/20pvn8z.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One day an old lady went to the &lt;br /&gt;doctors because she had an itch &lt;br /&gt;in her crotch.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She told the doctor her problem &lt;br /&gt;and he said,&amp;quot;You have the crabs&amp;quot;.&lt;br /&gt;She informed the doctor that it &lt;br /&gt;could not be the crabs because &lt;br /&gt;she was an eighty year old virgin.&lt;br /&gt;She went to another doctor and &lt;br /&gt;explained her problem&lt;br /&gt;to him.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor said,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;You probably have the crabs&amp;quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;No&amp;quot; she said, &amp;quot;I am an eighty year &lt;br /&gt;old virgin.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;Frustrated, she went to a third doctor.&lt;br /&gt;She said,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;Doctor can you help me?&lt;br /&gt;I have an itch in my crotch.&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me that it is the crabs &lt;br /&gt;because I am an eighty year old virgin. &lt;br /&gt;It can not be the crabs.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor said,&lt;br /&gt;Jump on the table and let's have a look.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;After examining, the doctor proclaimed,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;Ma'am, your right, you do not have the &lt;br /&gt;crabs.&lt;br /&gt;This cherry is sooooo old, you have &lt;br /&gt;fruit flies.&amp;quot;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/440783#comments"&gt;26 comments&lt;/a&gt;</description><pubDate>Wed, 10 Oct 2007 00:43:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">440783</guid></item><item><title>A Woman Knows Her Place!</title><link>http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/440585</link><description>
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i21.tinypic.com/24vjpsi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;A Woman Knows Her Place&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Barbara Walters of Television's &lt;br /&gt;20/20 did a story on gender role in&lt;br /&gt;Kabul, Afghanistan, several years &lt;br /&gt;before the Afghan conflict. She noted&lt;br /&gt;that women customarily walked 5 paces &lt;br /&gt;behind their husbands.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She recently returned to Kabul and &lt;br /&gt;observed that women still walk&lt;br /&gt;behind their husbands. From Ms. &lt;br /&gt;Walter's vantage point, despite the&lt;br /&gt;overthrow of the oppressive Taliban &lt;br /&gt;regime, the women now seem to&lt;br /&gt;walk even further back behind their &lt;br /&gt;husbands and are happy to maintain&lt;br /&gt;the old custom.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ms. Walters approached one of the &lt;br /&gt;Afghani women and asked, &amp;quot;Why&lt;br /&gt;do you now seem happy with the old &lt;br /&gt;custom that you once tried so&lt;br /&gt;desperately to change?&amp;quot;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The woman looked Ms. Walters straight &lt;br /&gt;in the eyes, and without&lt;br /&gt;hesitation said,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Land Mines.&amp;quot;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: &lt;br /&gt;BEHIND EVERY MAN IS A SMART WOMAN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/440585#comments"&gt;11 comments&lt;/a&gt;</description><pubDate>Tue, 09 Oct 2007 06:08:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">440585</guid></item><item><title>Redneck Weenie Contest! XXX</title><link>http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/440305</link><description>
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i20.tinypic.com/2qxp313.gif" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Three third graders from Alabama...an Irish &lt;br /&gt;kid, an Italian kid and a Redneck kid are &lt;br /&gt;on the playground at recess.&lt;br /&gt;The Irish kid suggests that they play a new &lt;br /&gt;game. &amp;quot;Let's see who has the largest weenie,&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;he says.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;quot;Okay.&amp;quot; They all agree.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Italian kid pulls down his zipper &lt;br /&gt;and whips it out. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;quot;That's nothing,&amp;quot; says the Irish kid. He &lt;br /&gt;whips his out and proudly shows that his &lt;br /&gt;is at least an inch longer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not to be outdone, the Redneck kid whips &lt;br /&gt;his out. It is by far not only the biggest, &lt;br /&gt;but the fattest. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That night, eating dinner at home, the Redneck &lt;br /&gt;kid's mother asks him what he did at school today.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;Oh, we worked on a science project, had a math &lt;br /&gt;test, and read out loud from a new book...and &lt;br /&gt;then during recess, my friends and I played a &lt;br /&gt;new game called 'Let's see who has the largest &lt;br /&gt;weenie.&amp;quot; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;quot;What kind of game is that, honey?&amp;quot; asks the mother.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;quot;Well, me, Anthony and Patrick each pulled out our &lt;br /&gt;weenies and I had the biggest! The other kids say &lt;br /&gt;its because I'm a Redneck. Is that true, Momma?&amp;quot; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom replies, &amp;quot;No, Honey. It's because you're &lt;br /&gt;twenty-one years old.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/440305#comments"&gt;14 comments&lt;/a&gt;</description><pubDate>Sun, 07 Oct 2007 23:04:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">440305</guid></item><item><title>Old!</title><link>http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/439730</link><description>
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;img src="http://i20.tinypic.com/f37xch.gif" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Old. . . &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you Over the Hill?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You may be headed that way if . . . &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You and your teeth don't sleep together. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You try to straighten out the wrinkles in your socks &lt;br /&gt;And discover you aren't wearing any. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;At the breakfast table, you hear snap, crackle, pop &lt;br /&gt;and you're not eating cereal. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Your back goes out, but you stay home. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You wake up looking like your driver's license photo. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;It takes two tries to get up from the couch. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When your idea of a night out is sitting on the patio. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When happy hour is a nap. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When you're on vacation and your energy runs out &lt;br /&gt;Before your money does. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When you say something to your kids that your mother said &lt;br /&gt;to you and you always hated it. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When all you want for your birthday is to not be reminded of your age. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When you step off the curb and look down one more time &lt;br /&gt;to make sure the street is still there. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Your idea of weight lifting is standing up. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;It takes longer to rest than it did to get &lt;br /&gt;tired. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Your memory is shorter and your complaining &lt;br /&gt;lasts longer. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Your address book has mostly names that &lt;br /&gt;start with Dr. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You sit in a rocking chair and can't get &lt;br /&gt;it going. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;The pharmacist has become your new best &lt;br /&gt;friend. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Getting &amp;quot;Lucky&amp;quot; means you found your car &lt;br /&gt;in the parking lot. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;The twinkle in your eye is merely a &lt;br /&gt;reflection from the sun on your bifocals. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;It takes twice as long - to look half as good. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Everything hurts, and what doesn't hurt, &lt;br /&gt;doesn't work. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You look for your glasses for half an hour &lt;br /&gt;and they were On your head the whole time. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You sink your teeth into a steak - and they &lt;br /&gt;stay there. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You give up all your bad habits and still &lt;br /&gt;don't feel good. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You have more patience, &lt;br /&gt;But it is actually that you just don't &lt;br /&gt;care anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You finally get your head together and your &lt;br /&gt;body starts falling apart. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You wonder how you could be over the hill &lt;br /&gt;when you don't even remember being on top of it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/439730#comments"&gt;16 comments&lt;/a&gt;</description><pubDate>Thu, 04 Oct 2007 22:51:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">439730</guid></item><item><title>You Have a Deliverly!!!  XXX</title><link>http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/439212</link><description>
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;Ovarie's...&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One ovarie says to the other ovarie, &amp;quot;Hey, did you order &lt;br /&gt;any furniture?&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;The other ovarie says, &amp;quot;No, why?&amp;quot; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&amp;quot;There's a couple of nuts outside trying to shove an &lt;br /&gt;organ in.&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i24.tinypic.com/242bhqw.gif" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/439212#comments"&gt;19 comments&lt;/a&gt;</description><pubDate>Tue, 02 Oct 2007 07:26:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">439212</guid></item><item><title>It's Finally Arrived!!!</title><link>http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/439211</link><description>
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i22.tinypic.com/1z64gvo.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have a Wonderful Day, My Dear Friends&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hugs, Pat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.grab.com/pfisch/439211#comments"&gt;14 comments&lt;/a&gt;</description><pubDate>Tue, 02 Oct 2007 07:21:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">439211</guid></item></channel></rss>