<?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-17469103</id><updated>2011-08-06T10:20:06.143Z</updated><title type='text'>Smile of the Day</title><subtitle type='html'>Life is getting much too serious, yes?  Who doesn't need a daily smile?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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>1134</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17469103.post-7379826500261365404</id><published>2011-05-02T18:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-05-02T18:32:18.588Z</updated><title type='text'>Insert your favourite politician</title><content type='html'>The politician was invited to address a large gathering of the First Nations. He assured them that he was working as hard as he could to address more First Nations concerns. He spoke for almost an hour on his future plans for increasing the native standard of living, if he could only win the next election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the conclusion of his speech, the head chief presented the politician with a plaque inscribed with his new native name: Walking Eagle. The proud politician then departed along with his motorcade, waving to the crowds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A news reporter later asked the chiefs how they came to select the name given to the politician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They explained that "Walking Eagle" is the name given to a bird so full of crap that it can no longer fly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7379826500261365404?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7379826500261365404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7379826500261365404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7379826500261365404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7379826500261365404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2011/05/insert-your-favourite-politician.html' title='Insert your favourite politician'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-5677915350968821378</id><published>2009-01-02T23:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-26T22:36:20.939Z</updated><title type='text'>The secret of success</title><content type='html'>There are two secrets to success:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; Don't tell everyone everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-5677915350968821378?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/5677915350968821378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=5677915350968821378' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5677915350968821378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5677915350968821378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/06/secret-of-success.html' title='The secret of success'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2521127014059175355</id><published>2009-01-02T11:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-26T22:36:42.397Z</updated><title type='text'>More wordplay from the Washington Post</title><content type='html'>This time readers were asked to supply alternate meanings for various words. The following were some of the winning entries:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Abdicate&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;v.&lt;/i&gt; To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Balderdash.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;n.&lt;/i&gt; A rapidly receding hairline. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Esplanade.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;v.&lt;/i&gt; To attempt an explanation while drunk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Flabbergasted.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;adj.&lt;/i&gt; Appalled over how much weight you have gained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frisbatarianism.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;n.&lt;/i&gt; The belief that, when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lymph.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;v.&lt;/i&gt; To walk with a lisp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Negligent.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;adj.&lt;/i&gt; Describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rectitude.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;n.&lt;/i&gt; The formal, dignified demeanor assumed by a proctologist immediately before he examines you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Semantics.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;n.&lt;/i&gt; Pranks conducted by young men studying for the priesthood, including such things as gluing the pages of the priest's prayer book together just before vespers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Testicle.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;n.&lt;/i&gt; A humorous question on an exam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Willy-nilly.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;adj.&lt;/i&gt; Impotent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2521127014059175355?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2521127014059175355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2521127014059175355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2521127014059175355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2521127014059175355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-wordplay-from-washington-post.html' title='More wordplay from the Washington Post'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-474079015587612551</id><published>2008-12-15T23:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T23:25:00.898Z</updated><title type='text'>That "special" Christmas gift</title><content type='html'>Never be caught speechless when you get given that singing Christmas tree at the office party! Here are some ideas what to say:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; Hey! Now &lt;i&gt;there's&lt;/i&gt; a gift!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Well, well, well ...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Boy, if I had not recently shot up 4 sizes, that would have fit perfectly.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; This is perfect for wearing around the basement.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Gosh. I hope this never catches fire! It is fire season though. There are lots of unexplained fires.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; If the dog buries it, I will be furious!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; I love it! but I fear the jealousy it will inspire.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Sadly, tomorrow I enter the Federal Witness Protection Program.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; To think -- I vowed to give all the gifts I got this year to charity.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; I really don't deserve this.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-474079015587612551?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/474079015587612551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=474079015587612551' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/474079015587612551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/474079015587612551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/that-special-christmas-gift.html' title='That &quot;special&quot; Christmas gift'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17469103.post-7257538174568890481</id><published>2008-12-15T11:12:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:12:01.108Z</updated><title type='text'>Santa's true profession</title><content type='html'>Consider:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; You never actually see Santa, only his assistants.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Santa keeps his job until he decides to retire.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Santa doesn't really do the work; he directs a bunch of helpers to do all his work for him, but he is the one who gets all the credit.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Santa doesn't work anywhere near a 40 hour week.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Santa travels a lot.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Santa is obviously a senior faculty member with tenure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7257538174568890481?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7257538174568890481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7257538174568890481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7257538174568890481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7257538174568890481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/santas-true-profession.html' title='Santa&apos;s true profession'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7100242427585483849</id><published>2008-12-12T23:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:04:15.171Z</updated><title type='text'>Stressed, to the 09s</title><content type='html'>One particular Christmas not so very long ago, Santa was once again getting ready for his annual trip; but this year there were problems everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourteen of his elves got sick, and the on-call elves could not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones. The budget was much too tight to afford what the temp agencies would charge, so he had to pull one of his most experienced elves off the line to find, interview, and bring in more seasonal trainees, who were even slower than the on-call help. Santa was beginning to fall behind schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because production was down, the First Bank of the North Pole changed the terms on Santa's operating loan, which made him fall even further behind when the goblins running the mines started sending their raw materials COD. To raise enough capital to pay them and hire enough trainees to keep the toys flowing in time for Christmas, he took out a mortgage on his and Mrs. Claus' house -- and when the bank found out about that, they dropped his credit rating and raised the interest on his operating loan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Claus told him that her mother was coming to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Santa went to harness the reindeer, he found three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. He thought briefly about hiring polar bears, but they had already signed a Christmas contract with Coca Cola, and they didn't get along so well with the reindeer anyway. Then the rest of the reindeer found out how much the polar bears were making for a lot less work. In desperation Santa called over to Whoville to see if Max was free. Max yipped happily and agreed, since the Grinch wasn't needing him just then anyway. He was much too busy on the telephone, buying up all the Whoville mortgages at market-bottom prices and happily anticipating foreclosures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Santa began to load the sleigh, one of the boards cracked, spilling all the toys into the snow. All the electronic toys were ruined. He called the distributors, but every shipment before Christmas had already been pre-sold out. Finally he found a couple of Wii Fits for sale on Ebay, and after some intense bidding which maxed out his remaining credit card, he won. Then the standard shipping company said it did not deliver to his area, and when he finally found one that did, they said they could not promise delivery before Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep breath ... just take a break. Leaving everything just as it was for the moment, Santa went back into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. But when he opened the cupboard where he kept the liquor, he discovered nothing but an IOU note from the elves. Then the coffee pot slipped from his fingers, breaking into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went to get the broom. Mice had eaten the straw it was made from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, the doorbell rang. Santa opened the door, and there was a little angel with a great big smile and a great big Christmas tree. "Merry Christmas, Santa!" the little angel exclaimed. "Isn't it just a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Isn't it just a lovely tree? Where would you like me to stick it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7100242427585483849?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7100242427585483849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7100242427585483849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7100242427585483849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7100242427585483849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/stressed-updated.html' title='Stressed, to the 09s'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2428549929073040587</id><published>2008-12-11T23:07:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:11:25.148Z</updated><title type='text'>Technicality</title><content type='html'>A burgler broke into the home of a prominent local lawyer, stealing the lawyer's Christmas presents from under the tree. Scrupulously, he leaves the wife's and children's gifts alone. As he is escaping from the house, he has the bad luck to run into a policeman, who promptly arrests him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He confesses to what he has done, but tells the policeman that he can't be arrested. When the policeman asks why, he explains, "Because the law states that I am entitled to the presents of an attorney."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2428549929073040587?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2428549929073040587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2428549929073040587' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2428549929073040587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2428549929073040587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/technicality.html' title='Technicality'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2339896507817699911</id><published>2008-12-09T11:37:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:39:13.718Z</updated><title type='text'>At no extra charge</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Customer at the counter of a lawn ornament shop:&lt;/b&gt; Give me four of those elves, two of the big reindeer, two of the small reindeer, and one of those bent-over, fat Mrs. Santas with the ridiculous bloomers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Shop owner:&lt;/b&gt; That will be eighty dollars for the elves, fifty dollars for the big reindeer, twenty dollars for the small reindeer, and a big apology for my wife ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2339896507817699911?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2339896507817699911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2339896507817699911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2339896507817699911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2339896507817699911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/at-no-extra-charge.html' title='At no extra charge'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4827801277265920611</id><published>2008-12-08T23:36:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:38:46.901Z</updated><title type='text'>Christmas At Rock-Away Rest</title><content type='html'>'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest, &lt;br /&gt;and all of us seniors were looking our best. &lt;br /&gt;Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry; &lt;br /&gt;Our punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope &lt;br /&gt;That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap. &lt;br /&gt;We surely were lucky to be there with friends, &lt;br /&gt;Secure in this residence and in our Depends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts, &lt;br /&gt;Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts. &lt;br /&gt;The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth, &lt;br /&gt;And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row, &lt;br /&gt;Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow. &lt;br /&gt;Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop -- &lt;br /&gt;Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great, &lt;br /&gt;Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate. &lt;br /&gt;The social director then had us play games, &lt;br /&gt;Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats, &lt;br /&gt;Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats. &lt;br /&gt;Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair, &lt;br /&gt;In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Security lights on the new fallen snow &lt;br /&gt;Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below. &lt;br /&gt;Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter &lt;br /&gt;(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A strange little fellow flew in through the door, &lt;br /&gt;Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor. &lt;br /&gt;'Twas just our director, all togged out in red. &lt;br /&gt;He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We knew from the way that he strutted and jived &lt;br /&gt;Our social security checks had arrived. &lt;br /&gt;We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak, &lt;br /&gt;Till the clock tinkled out its soft 8 pm stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds. &lt;br /&gt;While nurses distributed nocturnal meds. &lt;br /&gt;And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest. &lt;br /&gt;'Fore long you'll be with us. We wish you the best!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4827801277265920611?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4827801277265920611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4827801277265920611' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4827801277265920611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4827801277265920611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-at-rock-away-rest.html' title='Christmas At Rock-Away Rest'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-948410657781667517</id><published>2008-12-08T11:37:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T12:47:07.051Z</updated><title type='text'>The twelve pains of X-mas</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;From the Bob Rivers Comedy Corp album "Twisted Christmas".&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; The first thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;Is finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; Rigging up the lights,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Hangovers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; Rigging up the lights,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fourth thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Sending Christmas cards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Hangovers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; Rigging up the lights,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fifth thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Sending Christmas cards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Hangovers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; Rigging up the lights,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sixth thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated wife:&lt;/b&gt; Facing my in-laws,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, I hate those Christmas cards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Hangovers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; Rigging up these lights,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seventh thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Angry man:&lt;/b&gt; The Salvation Army,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated wife:&lt;/b&gt; Facing my in-laws,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Sending Christmas cards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, Jeez!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; I am trying to rig up these lights!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The eighth thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Loud kid:&lt;/b&gt; I WANNA TRANSFORMER FOR CHRISTMAS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Angry man:&lt;/b&gt; Charities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated wife:&lt;/b&gt; And what do you mean, "your in-laws"?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, making out these cards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Edith, get me a beer, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; What, we have no extension cords?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ninth thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Another frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; No parking spaces,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Loud kid:&lt;/b&gt; DADDY, I WANT SOME CANDY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Angry man:&lt;/b&gt; Donations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated wife:&lt;/b&gt; Facing my in-laws,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Writing out those Christmas cards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Hangovers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; Now why the hell are they blinking?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tenth thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mother:&lt;/b&gt; "Batteries not included",&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Another frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; No parking spaces,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Loud kid:&lt;/b&gt; BUY ME SOMETHIN'!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Angry man:&lt;/b&gt; Get a job, ya bum!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated wife&lt;/b&gt; (sobbing): Oh, facing my in-laws,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Yo, ho! Sending Christmas cards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, Jeez, look at this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; One light goes out, they ALL go out!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The eleventh thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;TV critic:&lt;/b&gt; Stale TV specials,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mother:&lt;/b&gt; "Batteries not included",&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Another frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; No parking spaces,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Loud kid:&lt;/b&gt; I GOTTA GO TO THE BATHROOM!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Angry man:&lt;/b&gt; Charities!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated wife&lt;/b&gt; (sobbing): She's a witch! I hate her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, I don't even KNOW half these people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Oh, who's got the toilet paper?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; Get a flashlight!! I blew a fuse!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The twelfth thing at Christmas that is such a pain to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;A few guys:&lt;/b&gt; Singing Christmas carols,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;TV critic:&lt;/b&gt; Stale TV specials,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mother:&lt;/b&gt; "Batteries not included",&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Another frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; No parking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Loud kid:&lt;/b&gt; WAAAAAAH!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Angry man:&lt;/b&gt; Charities!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated wife:&lt;/b&gt; Gotta make 'em dinner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; Five months of bills,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Frustrated man:&lt;/b&gt; I am not sending them this year, that's it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inebriated man:&lt;/b&gt; Shut up, you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Husband:&lt;/b&gt; FINE!! If you are so smart, YOU RIG UP THE LIGHTS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorus:&lt;/b&gt; And finding a Christmas tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-948410657781667517?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/948410657781667517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=948410657781667517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/948410657781667517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/948410657781667517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/twelve-pains-of-x-mas.html' title='The twelve pains of X-mas'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2447774189422561988</id><published>2008-12-06T11:27:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:36:23.993Z</updated><title type='text'>Which is best for Christmas?</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Christmas tree&lt;/b&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Yuppie:&lt;/b&gt; Live tree, planted after use.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Male:&lt;/b&gt; Fake tree, discarded after use.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Female:&lt;/b&gt; Grow tree in house, adorned with fruits.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Reality:&lt;/b&gt; Fake tree stays up until May, adorned with fur-balls.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christmas lights&lt;/b&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Yuppie:&lt;/b&gt; Each bulb blinks to its own random rhythm.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Male:&lt;/b&gt; Bulbs flash logo of football team.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Female:&lt;/b&gt; Elegant flickering candles.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Reality:&lt;/b&gt; Tree burns out a fuse.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;b&gt;Top of the tree&lt;/b&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Yuppie:&lt;/b&gt; Gender-neutral angel; no submissive female stereotype.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Male:&lt;/b&gt; Blonde angel, kneeling, in a wet T-shirt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Female:&lt;/b&gt; Authentic angel explains true meaning of Christmas.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Reality:&lt;/b&gt; Hell's Angels steal the tree and the gifts.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tinsel&lt;/b&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Yuppie:&lt;/b&gt; Empower each strand with self-determining skills.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Male:&lt;/b&gt; Six large clumps of tinsel on front of tree.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Female:&lt;/b&gt; Hang each icicle like strand of delicate artwork.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Reality:&lt;/b&gt; More icicles on floor than on tree.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;b&gt;Opening gifts&lt;/b&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Yuppie:&lt;/b&gt; Gifts opened on posted, individual schedules so that all can enjoy the surprise and joy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Male:&lt;/b&gt; Anytime, just so long as you don't block the TV.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Female:&lt;/b&gt; Anytime the entire family is present.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Reality:&lt;/b&gt; Doesn't matter, everyone has peeked anyway.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christmas dinner&lt;/b&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Yuppie:&lt;/b&gt; Tofurkey.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Male:&lt;/b&gt; Anything, as long as there is lots of beer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Female:&lt;/b&gt; A meal the entire family plans and prepares together.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;b&gt;Reality:&lt;/b&gt; Chinese carry-out.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2447774189422561988?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2447774189422561988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2447774189422561988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2447774189422561988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2447774189422561988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/which-is-best-for-christmas.html' title='Which is best for Christmas?'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4843126884993631835</id><published>2008-12-05T11:47:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T12:50:33.741Z</updated><title type='text'>Ways to confuse Santa Claus</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; Instead of milk and cookies, leave him a salad, and a note explaining that you think he could stand to lose a few pounds.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; While he is in the house, go find his sleigh and write him a speeding ticket.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Leave him a note, explaining that you have gone away for the holidays. Ask if he would mind watering your plants.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; While he is in the house, replace all his reindeer with exact replicas. Then wait and see what happens when he tries to get them to fly.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Keep an angry bull in your living room. If you think a bull goes crazy when he sees a little red cape, wait until he sees that big, red Santa suit!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Build an army of mean-looking snowmen on the roof, holding signs that say "We hate Christmas," and "Go away Santa."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Leave a note by the telephone, telling Santa that Mrs. Claus called and wanted to remind him to pick up some milk and a loaf of bread on his way home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Throw a surprise party for Santa when he comes down the chimney. Refuse to let him leave until the strippers arrive.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; While he is in the house, find the sleigh and sit in it. As soon as he comes back and sees you, tell him that he should not have missed that last payment, and take off.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Leave a plate filled with cookies and a glass of milk out, with a note that says, "For The Tooth Fairy. " Leave another plate out with half a stale cookie and a few drops of skim milk with a note that says, "For Santa. "&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Take everything out of your house as if it has just been robbed. When Santa arrives, show up dressed like a policeman and say, "Well, well. They always return to the scene of the crime."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Leave out a copy of your Christmas list with last-minute changes and corrections.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; While he is in the house, cover the top of the chimney with barbed wire.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Leave lots of hunting trophies and guns out where Santa's sure to see them. Go outside, yell, "Ooh! Look! A deer! And he has a red nose!" and fire a gun.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Leave Santa a note, explaining that you have moved. Include a map with unclear and hard-to-read directions to your new house. ("Turn left half a mile before you reach the bridge ...)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Set a bear trap at the bottom of the chimney. Wait for Santa to get caught in it, and then explain that you are sorry, but from a distance, he looked like a bear.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Leave out a Santa suit, with a dry-cleaning bill.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Paint "hoof-prints" all over your face and clothes. While he is in the house, go out on the roof. When he comes back up, act like you have been "trampled." Threaten to sue.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Instead of ornaments, decorate your tree with Easter eggs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Dress up like the Easter Bunny. Wait for Santa to come and then say, "This neighbourhood ain't big enough for the both of us."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4843126884993631835?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4843126884993631835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4843126884993631835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4843126884993631835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4843126884993631835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/12/ways-to-confuse-santa-claus.html' title='Ways to confuse Santa Claus'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2986015627660300264</id><published>2008-12-01T23:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:05:29.356Z</updated><title type='text'>Stressed</title><content type='html'>One particular Christmas a very long time ago, Santa was once again getting ready for his annual trip; but this year there were problems everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones. Santa was beginning to fall behind schedule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Claus told him that her mother was coming to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he went to harness the reindeer, he found three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he began to load the sleigh, one of the boards cracked, spilling all the toys into the snow. All the electronic toys were ruined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep breath ... just take a break. Leaving everything just as it was for the moment, Santa went back into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. But when he opened the cupboard where he kept the liquor, he discovered nothing but an IOU note from the elves. Then the coffee pot slipped from his fingers, breaking into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went to get the broom. Mice had eaten the straw it was made from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, the doorbell rang. Santa opened the door, and there was a little angel with a great big smile and a great big Christmas tree. "Merry Christmas, Santa!" the little angel exclaimed. "Isn't it just a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Isn't it just a lovely tree? Where would you like me to stick it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2986015627660300264?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2986015627660300264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2986015627660300264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2986015627660300264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2986015627660300264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/stressed.html' title='Stressed'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4466611402999304355</id><published>2008-11-30T11:51:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:10:51.080Z</updated><title type='text'>Hunting for a parking space</title><content type='html'>He was driving around and around the mall parking lot in a sweat, knowing that he had to get the toys on sale if he was going to get them for Christmas at all. Glancing up to heaven, he said, "Lord, if you find me a parking place today, I promise I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of my life, and never shop on Sunday again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miraculously, a parking place appeared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked up again and said, "Never mind, I found one."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4466611402999304355?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4466611402999304355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4466611402999304355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4466611402999304355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4466611402999304355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/hunting-for-parking-space.html' title='Hunting for a parking space'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8855516054649849530</id><published>2008-11-30T11:34:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-03T05:41:09.617Z</updated><title type='text'>The power of prayer</title><content type='html'>The airplane engine coughed, and sputtered, and after a few minutes the pilot came back into the passenger cabin and said, "It would be a very good time to do something religious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the passengers started taking up a collection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8855516054649849530?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8855516054649849530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8855516054649849530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8855516054649849530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8855516054649849530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/power-of-prayer.html' title='The power of prayer'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-3281856926299861906</id><published>2008-11-29T23:48:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-02T03:56:08.614Z</updated><title type='text'>Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?</title><content type='html'>She was tucking her little boy into bed during a violent thunderstorm. She was about to turn off the lights when he asked, a tremour in his voice: "Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiled and hugged him. "I can't, dear. I have to sleep in Daddy's room."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he whispered: "The big sissy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-3281856926299861906?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/3281856926299861906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=3281856926299861906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3281856926299861906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3281856926299861906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/mommy-will-you-sleep-with-me-tonight.html' title='Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7135718479155531433</id><published>2008-11-28T11:58:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-02T04:01:32.567Z</updated><title type='text'>Catching up</title><content type='html'>Two former roommates from a women's college were catching up after meeting again for the first time in years. "My goodness," exclaimed the first, "I never knew you had gotten married!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," says the other, "to a lawyer, and an honest man too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmm, isn't that bigamy?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7135718479155531433?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7135718479155531433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7135718479155531433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7135718479155531433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7135718479155531433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/catching-up.html' title='Catching up'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8310114339499193258</id><published>2008-11-28T11:04:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-02T04:15:07.547Z</updated><title type='text'>The growth of wealth</title><content type='html'>An experienced economist and a newbie in the field are walking together through the cow pasture. In the way of all cow pastures, it is a bit of a minefield. A bit mischievously, the older economist suddenly says, "If you jump onto that one deliberately, I will give you $20,000."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, a lot of money, that. The newbie runs his optimisation problem and figures out he would be better off if he takes the bet, so he goes ahead and jumps, and gets all splattered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little later they run into another cow patty, and the newbie decides to turn the tables: "Now, if YOU jump onto that one, I will give YOU $20,000."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The experienced economist runs his evaluation quickly, and jumps, and now he is all splattered too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while the newbie starts thinking aloud, "Listen, we both have the same amount of money we had before, but just look at us! I don't see us being better off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," says the experienced economist, "I guess part of that is true, but you overlooked the fact that we havve been just involved in $40,000 of trade."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8310114339499193258?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8310114339499193258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8310114339499193258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8310114339499193258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8310114339499193258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/growth-of-wealth.html' title='The growth of wealth'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8236897990030942159</id><published>2008-11-27T23:05:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:05:03.564Z</updated><title type='text'>A Thanksgiving cookbook</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;by Mrs. Geraghty's kindergarten class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;NOTE:&lt;/b&gt; Mrs. Geraghty will not be reponsible for medical bills resulting from use of her cookbook.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ivette - Banana Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You buy some bananas and crust. Then you mash them up and put them in the pie. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Russell - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cut the turkey up and put it in the oven for ten minutes and 300 degrees. You put gravy on it and eat it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Geremy - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You buy the turkey and take the paper off. Then you put it in the refrigerator and take it back out and cut it with a knife and make sure all the wires are out and take out the neck and heart. Then you put it in a big pan and cook it for half an hour at 80 degrees. Then you invite people over and eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Andrew - Pizza&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy some dough, some cheese and pepperoni. Then you cook it for 10 hours at 5 degrees. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Shelby - Applesauce&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to the store and buy some apples, and then you squish them up. Then you put them in a jar that says, "Applesauce". Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meghan H. - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cut it into 16 pieces and then you leave it in the oven for 15 minutes and 4 degrees. You take it out and let it cool and then after 5 minutes, then you eat it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Danny - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You put some salt on it to make it taste good. Then you put it in the oven. Then you cook it for an hour at 5 degrees. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Brandon - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you buy it at Fred Meyer. Then you cut it up and cook it for 15 hours at 200degrees. Then you take it out and eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Megan K - Chicken&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You put it in the oven for 25 minutes and 25 degrees and put gravy on it and eat it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christa - Cookies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy some dough and smash it and cut them out. Then put them in the oven for 2 hours at 100 degrees. Then take them out and dry them off. Then it's time to eat them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Irene - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put it on a plate and put it in the oven with gravy. You cook it for 1 minute and for 100 degrees. Then it's all cooked. Your mom or dad cuts it and then eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moriah - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you cut the bones out. Then you put it in the oven for 10 hours at 600 degrees. Then you put it on the table and eat it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vincent - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cut and put sauce on it. Then you cook it for 18 minutes at 19 degrees. Then you eat it with stuffing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jordyn - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you have to cut it up and put it on a plate in the oven for 9 minutes and 18 degrees. Then you dig it out of the oven and eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Grace - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you add some salt. Then you put it in a bowl. Then you put brown sugar on it. Then you mix it all together with a spoon and then you add some milk and mix it again. And then you put it in a pan. Then you put it in the oven for 15 minutes and 16 degrees. Then you take it out of the oven and then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Alan - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you shoot it and then you cut it. And then you put it in the oven and cook it for 10 minutes and 20 degrees. You put it on plates and then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jordan Salvatore - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you put it in the oven for 15 minutes at 100 degrees. Then you cut it up and then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jordan Simons - Chocolate Pudding&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy some chocolate pudding mix. Then you add the milk. Then you add the pudding mix. Then you stir it. Then you put it in the refrigerator and wait for it to get hard. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Whitney - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut it and put it in the oven for 50 minutes at 60 degrees and then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jason - Chicken Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put the chicken in the pot and put the salad and cheese and mustard and then you mix it all together. Then put chicken sauce and stir it all around again. Then you cook it for 5 minutes at 9 degrees. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christopher - Pumpkin Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you buy a pumpkin and smash it. Then it is all done. And you cook it in the oven for 12 minutes and 4 degrees. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christine - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you buy the turkey. Then you cook it for 5 hours and 5 degrees. Then you cut it up and you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ashley - Chicken&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put it in the oven. Then cut it up. Then I eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jennie - Corn&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom buys it. Then you throw it. Then you cook it. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jordan - Cranberry Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put cranberry juice in it. Then you put berries in it. Then you put dough in it. Then you bake it. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Adam - Pumpkin Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you put pumpkin seeds in it. Put it in a pan and bake it at 5 degrees for 6 minutes. Then take it out and eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jarryd - Deer Jerky&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put it in the oven overnight at 20 degrees. Then you go hunting and bring it with you. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christina - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get the turkey. Put it in the oven. Cook it for 43 minutes at 35 degrees. Put it on a plate, cut it up, then eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Joplyn - Apple Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take some apples, mash them up. Take some bread and make a pie with it. Get some dough and squish it. Shape the dough into a pie shape. Put the apples in it. Then bake it at 9 degrees for 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Isabelle - Spaghetti&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put those red things in it. Then put the spaghetti in it. Then cook it in the oven for 2 minutes at 8 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bailey - Chicken&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put pepper and spices on it. Cook for one hour at 60 degrees. Then eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nicholas - White and Brown Pudding&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you read the wrapper. Get a piece of water. Stir. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sean - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put it in the oven for 5 minutes at 55 degrees. Take it out and eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lauren - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you find a turkey and kill it. Cut it open. Put it in a pan. Pour milk in the pan. Put a little chicken with it. Put salsa on it. Take out of pan. Put it on the board. Cut into little pieces. Put on a rack. Put in the oven for 7 minutes at 10 degrees. Take out of the oven and put eensy weensy bit of sugar on it. Put a little more salsa on it. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Olivia - Corn&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get hot water and put on stove. Wait for 8 minutes. Put corn in. Then put it on a plate. Then eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Siera - Pumpkin Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get some pumpkin and dough for the crust. Get pumpkin pie cinnamon. Cook it for 20 minutes at 10 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kayla - Turkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy it. Take it home. Then you cook it. Put it in the oven for 1 hour. Take it out of the oven. Put it on a plate. Then you eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tommy - Pumpkin&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cook the pumpkin. Then get ready to eat the pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wai - Pumpkin Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get a pumpkin. Cook it. Eat it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8236897990030942159?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8236897990030942159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8236897990030942159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8236897990030942159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8236897990030942159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving-cookbook.html' title='A Thanksgiving cookbook'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-632368981831097376</id><published>2008-11-27T11:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T12:55:04.626Z</updated><title type='text'>Giving thanks</title><content type='html'>An American and a British journalist were discussing Thanksgiving on a British radio program. The American asked if Thanksgiving was celebrated in the United Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," the British journalist replied, "but we celebrate it on the 6th of September."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That is when you chaps left."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-632368981831097376?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/632368981831097376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=632368981831097376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/632368981831097376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/632368981831097376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/giving-thanks.html' title='Giving thanks'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6785059135897305240</id><published>2008-11-26T23:05:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:08:25.538Z</updated><title type='text'>'Tis the day before Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>... and the butcher is just locking up when a man begins pounding on the front door. "Please let me in," says the man desperately. "I forgot to buy a turkey, and my wife will kill me if I don't come home with one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay," says the butcher. "Let me see what I have left."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He goes into the freezer and discovers that there is only a single scrawny turkey left. He brings it out to show the man, who winces. "That one is much too skinny. What else do you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the butcher takes the bird back into the freezer and waits a few minutes, and then he brings the same turkey back out to the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no," says the man, "That one doesn't look any better. You had better give me both of them."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6785059135897305240?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6785059135897305240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6785059135897305240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6785059135897305240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6785059135897305240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/tis-day-before-thanksgiving.html' title='&apos;Tis the day before Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-3234878388040432285</id><published>2008-11-17T11:06:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-19T15:10:30.085Z</updated><title type='text'>A little taste of heaven</title><content type='html'>A shipwrecked sailor who had spent the last three years on a desert island was overjoyed to see a ship drop anchor in the bay. So they had finally seen his fires, his SOS! He watched eagerly as a small boat was lowered over the side, then slowly rowed toward shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it landed, an officer stepped out and handed the shipwrecked sailor a bunch of newspapers, saying, "The captain suggests that you read what is going on in the world, and then let us know if you want to be rescued."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-3234878388040432285?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/3234878388040432285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=3234878388040432285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3234878388040432285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3234878388040432285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/little-taste-of-heaven.html' title='A little taste of heaven'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4235422058504971035</id><published>2008-11-08T11:49:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-09T16:52:31.389Z</updated><title type='text'>Taxonomy</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Q: How do you tell a brown bear from a grizzly bear?&lt;br /&gt;A:&lt;/b&gt; Climb a tree.&lt;br /&gt;If the bear climbs it and eats you, it is a brown bear.&lt;br /&gt;If the bear knocks the tree down and eats you, it is a grizzly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4235422058504971035?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4235422058504971035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4235422058504971035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4235422058504971035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4235422058504971035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/taxonomy.html' title='Taxonomy'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6279328252018564975</id><published>2008-11-05T23:24:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-08T03:44:04.503Z</updated><title type='text'>Stall to stall</title><content type='html'>He had barely sat down in his restroom stall when he heard a voice from the next stall over saying, "Hi, how are you?" Awkwardly, he answered, "Doing just fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what are you up to?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Er ... same as you, I guess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I come over?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Er -- no, I'm a little busy right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the unseen voice said nervously: "Listen, I will have to call you back. There is an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6279328252018564975?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6279328252018564975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6279328252018564975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6279328252018564975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6279328252018564975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/stall-to-stall.html' title='Stall to stall'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-564363154925943653</id><published>2008-11-03T11:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-08T01:23:54.402Z</updated><title type='text'>Father and son</title><content type='html'>A father and son were working a one-mule farm where they barely eked out a living. But the son kept playing the scratch-and-win tickets, and one day he won $50,000. He was so thrilled he burned rubber all the way to the big city to collect the money; and when he got home, he told his father the good news and handed him a $50.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father looked at the money for a moment. "Son," he finally said, "you know I have always been careful with what little money we had. I didn't spend it on whiskey or women or frivolous things. In fact, I couldn't even afford a licence to legally marry your Ma."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pa!" exclaimed the son, "do you know what that makes me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yep," said the old man, fingering the fifty-dollar bill, "and a damn cheap one too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-564363154925943653?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/564363154925943653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=564363154925943653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/564363154925943653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/564363154925943653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/father-and-son.html' title='Father and son'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-452776789748720772</id><published>2008-11-02T11:32:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-08T02:07:23.954Z</updated><title type='text'>Serious football</title><content type='html'>In Texas, they play &lt;i&gt;serious&lt;/i&gt; football. Even the mascots are serious: a cougar in Houston, a longhorn steer at Texas State, a bear at Baylor. Actually, Baylor has had a bit of problem with their mascot, not because it is a Baptist university, but because the latest outfit had an unfortunate quirk: his right eye looked to the left, and his left eye looked to the right. But the budget was tight and in all other respects the bear was an exemplary creature, ao they decided to put up with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, they even named him "Gladly": Gladly, the cross-eyed bear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-452776789748720772?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/452776789748720772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=452776789748720772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/452776789748720772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/452776789748720772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/sunday-joke.html' title='Serious football'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7254910513449214628</id><published>2008-11-01T23:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-02T15:35:57.626Z</updated><title type='text'>So this explains it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;- from the &lt;/i&gt;Arkansas Democrat-Gazette&lt;i&gt;:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may have noticed that March of this year was particularly hot. As a matter of fact, I understand that it was the hottest March since the beginning of the last century. All of the trees were fully leafed out and legions of bugs and snakes were crawling around during a time in Arkansas when, on a normal year, we might see a snowflake or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should come as no surprise to any reasonable person. As you know, Daylight Saving Time started almost a month early this year. You would think that members of Congress would have considered the warming effect that an extra hour of daylight would have on our climate. Or did they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this is another plot by a liberal Congress to make us believe that global warming is a real threat. Perhaps next time there should be serious studies performed before Congress passes laws with such far-reaching effects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CONNIE M. MESKIMEN&lt;br /&gt;Hot Springs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7254910513449214628?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7254910513449214628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7254910513449214628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7254910513449214628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7254910513449214628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-this-explains-it.html' title='So this explains it!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7990439085055535036</id><published>2008-10-31T23:29:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:23:58.234Z</updated><title type='text'>Follow me!</title><content type='html'>Late one night a vampire bat came flapping into his home cave, covered in fresh blood, and settled himself on the ceiling to get some sleep. But he was to have no peace. The other vampire bats had smelled the blood, and now they were anxious to know where he had gotten it. At last, with a sigh, he unfurled his wings again and said, "Follow me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hundreds of bats did, flying down through a valley, and across a river, and then into a forest of trees. Finally he slowed down, and all the other bats milled excitedly around him. "Do you see that tree over there?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. Yes! YES!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good," said the first bat. "Because I didn't."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7990439085055535036?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7990439085055535036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7990439085055535036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7990439085055535036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7990439085055535036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/follow-me.html' title='Follow me!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1386917433098783734</id><published>2008-10-30T23:53:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-30T23:53:00.484Z</updated><title type='text'>I'm a very good girl</title><content type='html'>This advertisement is said to have been listed in the &lt;i&gt;Atlanta Journal&lt;/i&gt;:&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;SINGLE BLACK FEMALE&lt;/b&gt; seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant. I'm a very good girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. I'll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me.. Call (404) 875-6420 and ask for Daisy, I'll be waiting ...&lt;/blockquote&gt;Over 150 men found themselves talking to the Atlanta Humane Society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.atlantahumane.org"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hJSZL_DGVG0/SQouaFh30SI/AAAAAAAAAB8/7NtIaVFo-xs/s320/Black+puppy.bmp" border="0" alt="She is waiting for you!"id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263070140231569698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1386917433098783734?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1386917433098783734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1386917433098783734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1386917433098783734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1386917433098783734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-very-good-girl.html' title='I&apos;m a very good girl'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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/_hJSZL_DGVG0/SQouaFh30SI/AAAAAAAAAB8/7NtIaVFo-xs/s72-c/Black+puppy.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17469103.post-3860016181881929518</id><published>2008-10-29T23:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:52:01.954Z</updated><title type='text'>Another age</title><content type='html'>When baseball great Ty Cobb was seventy years old, a reporter asked him, "What do you think you would hit if you were playing in this era?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cobb, a lifetime .367 hitter, said, "About .290, maybe .300."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reporter nodded. "That would be because of the travel, the night games, the artificial turf, the postponements, and all the new pitches like the slider, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said Cobb. "It's because I am 70."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-3860016181881929518?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/3860016181881929518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=3860016181881929518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3860016181881929518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3860016181881929518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/another-age.html' title='Another age'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-367342906331810068</id><published>2008-10-29T11:08:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-29T15:30:47.418Z</updated><title type='text'>All things come to those who wait</title><content type='html'>After a long morning enduring long waits and wading through interminable red tape at the government office, he stopped by a toy store to pick up a baseball bat as a gift for his son. When he took it to the cash register, the clerk asked, "Cash, debit, or charge?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cash," he snapped. Then, belatedly realising, he quickly apologised for his rudeness, explaining that he had spent all that morning working his way through government red tape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shall I giftwrap the bat?" the clerk asked sweetly. "Or are you going back there?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-367342906331810068?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/367342906331810068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=367342906331810068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/367342906331810068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/367342906331810068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/comes-pitch.html' title='All things come to those who wait'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1652846831748158775</id><published>2008-10-28T11:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-28T14:38:35.327Z</updated><title type='text'>Comes the pitch ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Q: What happens to baseball players who go blind?&lt;br /&gt;A:&lt;/b&gt; They become umpires.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1652846831748158775?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1652846831748158775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1652846831748158775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1652846831748158775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1652846831748158775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/comes-pitch_28.html' title='Comes the pitch ...'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-189152237092336</id><published>2008-10-27T23:48:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-11-19T14:51:41.404Z</updated><title type='text'>Comparisons</title><content type='html'>The maid was very upset with the lady. "I tell you, madam," she shouted, "your husband has told me himself that he thinks I am a better housekeeper, cook, and laundress than you are. And he thinks I am prettier. And I am better in bed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I suppose he told you that too," demanded the lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. The gardener told me!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-189152237092336?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/189152237092336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=189152237092336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/189152237092336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/189152237092336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/comparisons.html' title='Comparisons'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6827040111367867986</id><published>2008-10-27T11:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-27T11:51:00.807Z</updated><title type='text'>All wet</title><content type='html'>Came the time of the midterm exams, and the student was not too happy as he came home from school. Naturally his mother wanted to know what was the matter. He hemmed and hawed and fidgeted, but after a few minutes he said, "It's my marks. They are all wet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean, all wet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean," he replied, "below C-level."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6827040111367867986?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6827040111367867986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6827040111367867986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6827040111367867986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6827040111367867986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/all-wet.html' title='All wet'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2372345799832159771</id><published>2008-10-26T23:00:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-26T23:00:03.909Z</updated><title type='text'>Have you been a good girl?</title><content type='html'>Three girls die and come to the pearly gates, where St. Peter has this simple question in store for them: "Have you been a good girl?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes," answers the first. "I was a virgin before I got married, and remained a virgin even after I got married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very good," says St. Peter. And to his attendent angel he says, "Angel, give this girl the golden key."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second answers, "Oh, quite good. I was a virgin before I got married, but not after I got married."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very good," says St. Peter. "Angel, give this girl the silver key."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third answers, "Oh no, not at all. I got down with practically every guy I met, before and after I got married. Anywhere, anytime."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very good," says St. Peter. "Angel, give this girl my room key."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2372345799832159771?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2372345799832159771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2372345799832159771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2372345799832159771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2372345799832159771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/have-you-been-good-girl.html' title='Have you been a good girl?'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8614405786830306545</id><published>2008-10-26T11:46:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-26T11:46:00.662Z</updated><title type='text'>Resourcefulness</title><content type='html'>Sister Mary, who worked for a home health agency, was out making her rounds when she ran out of gas. She walked to the nearest gas station to borrow a gas can and buy some gas, but the attendent told her the only gas can he owned had been loaned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time was tight and she decided not to wait, so she walked back to her car to look for something she could fill with gas. In time she found the bedpan. She carried it to the station, filled it with gas, and carried the full bedpan back to her car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she began pouring the gas into her tank, a car coming up the road behind her nearly ran into her before it finally veered around, its driver was staring that hard. As he pulled over to see if he could help, his passenger shook his head: "If it starts, I am turning Catholic!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8614405786830306545?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8614405786830306545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8614405786830306545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8614405786830306545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8614405786830306545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/resourcefulness.html' title='Resourcefulness'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6104495697499871036</id><published>2008-10-24T11:52:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-24T11:52:01.255Z</updated><title type='text'>Entrepreneurship</title><content type='html'>She was at the beach almost everyday. Travel bag in hand, she would approach people who were sitting on the beach, glance around, and then speak to them. Most times it seemed they responded negatively and she would wander off; but sometimes someone would nod, and then there would be a quick exchange of money for something the girl carried in her bag. Those watching her were increasingly curious about what was going on, and some were starting to wonder if they should call the police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of weeks, the wife of one of the couples who had been watching her said, "Honey, have you noticed that she only goes up to people with boom boxes and other electronic devices?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had not, but the next day he arrived early with a towel and their big radio and settled himself alone on the beach, figuring that way he could find out what the girl was doing. The plan went off without a hitch. The wife arrived on time to see the girl talk to her husband and then leave, and she was beside herself with excitement to learn what was really happening. "So, what is it? What is she doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled. "She is a battery salesperson."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Batteries?" echoed the wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Absolutely," he replied. "She sells C-cells by the seashore."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6104495697499871036?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6104495697499871036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6104495697499871036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6104495697499871036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6104495697499871036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/entrepreneurship.html' title='Entrepreneurship'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7618835718661835778</id><published>2008-10-23T23:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-23T23:08:00.557Z</updated><title type='text'>Contingencies</title><content type='html'>The date was not going well. Fortunately, he had arranged to have a friend call him, so he could have an excuse to leave, just in case something like this happened. After he got off the cellphone, he lowered his eyes, put on a grim expression, and said, "I have some bad news. My grandfather just died."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank heavens," his date replied. "If yours hadn't, mine would have had to!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7618835718661835778?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7618835718661835778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7618835718661835778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7618835718661835778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7618835718661835778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/contingencies.html' title='Contingencies'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7555362797812796397</id><published>2008-10-23T11:58:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-23T11:58:01.081Z</updated><title type='text'>Ten most wanted</title><content type='html'>When little Johnny was visiting the local police station, he spotted at once all the mug shots on the wall, and above them the sign, "10 Most Wanted". Of course he asked the policemen about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Those men did some very bad things," they said, "and we are going to catch every one of them and put them in jail."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy puzzled over this for a while. Then he asked, "Why didn't you keep them in jail the day you took their picture?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7555362797812796397?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7555362797812796397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7555362797812796397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7555362797812796397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7555362797812796397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/ten-most-wanted.html' title='Ten most wanted'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7225545780617222558</id><published>2008-10-22T23:22:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-08T01:22:25.908Z</updated><title type='text'>Group therapy</title><content type='html'>A psychiatrist decided to take his group session patients to a baseball game, so he coached them carefully how to respond to his instructions. When the day of the game arrived, everything seemed to be going well. The national anthem started, the doctor said, "Up, Nuts!" and the patients instantly jumped to their feet. After the anthem ended he said, "Down, Nuts!" and they immediately sat down. And after a home run was hit he said, "Cheer, Nuts!" and they broke out into loud applause and cheers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything was going so well, in fact, that the doctor left to get a beer and a hot dog, leaving his assistant in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He returned to find a riot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He flailed his way through it, finally finding his assistant and asking, "What happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, everything was going just fine until this guy walked by, yelling 'Peanuts!'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7225545780617222558?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7225545780617222558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7225545780617222558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7225545780617222558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7225545780617222558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/peanuts.html' title='Group therapy'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7859566011275646536</id><published>2008-10-22T11:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-22T11:35:00.995Z</updated><title type='text'>Advertising</title><content type='html'>The cheap new haircutting place had placed a huge sign outside its door:&lt;p align=center&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why pay fifty dollars? We give haircuts for five dollars.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;The much more expensive salon down the street soon added their own sign:&lt;p align=center&gt;&lt;b&gt;We repair five dollar haircuts.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7859566011275646536?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7859566011275646536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7859566011275646536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7859566011275646536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7859566011275646536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/advertising.html' title='Advertising'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7738728086373721043</id><published>2008-10-21T11:12:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-21T11:12:00.470Z</updated><title type='text'>Squeezed</title><content type='html'>He had been working as a bag boy for five years, so when the supermarket gets some brand new orange juice machines, he is excited to be trying out a different job ... but the manager says no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I have been working here for five years. Why can't I run the juice machines?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am sorry, but baggers can't be juicers."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7738728086373721043?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7738728086373721043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7738728086373721043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7738728086373721043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7738728086373721043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/squeezed.html' title='Squeezed'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8680419872339294686</id><published>2008-10-20T11:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-20T13:45:53.755Z</updated><title type='text'>Heaven</title><content type='html'>An elderly man lay dying in his bed when he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gathered his remaining strength and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he started crawling downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen: and there, spread out upon sheet after baking sheet, were hundreds of chocolate chip cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mustering one great final effort, he dragged himself towards the table -- and was suddenly smacked with a wooden spoon by his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Back off!" she said. "They are for the funeral."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8680419872339294686?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8680419872339294686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8680419872339294686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8680419872339294686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8680419872339294686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/heaven.html' title='Heaven'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6493071402455177526</id><published>2008-10-19T11:39:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-19T11:39:00.655Z</updated><title type='text'>Thank God!</title><content type='html'>A young man borrows a horse from a missionary. There are a couple of special things about this horse, however. The missionary warns him that to make the horse go, the young man would have to say "Thank God", and "Amen" to make him stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he gets on the horse and says, "Thank God," and at once the horse starts walking. The young man says, "Thank God" again, and the horse begins trotting. Again he says, "Thank God, thank God," and now the horse just takes off. Only now there is a cliff coming up rather quickly, so he hauls back on the reins and says, "Whoa!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it does not work. He tries everything he can think of, and only at the very last instant does he remember to say, "Amen!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At once the horse stops, a bare four inches from the cliff. The young man leans back in the saddle and says, "Thank God."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6493071402455177526?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6493071402455177526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6493071402455177526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6493071402455177526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6493071402455177526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/thank-god.html' title='Thank God!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7566682250033205603</id><published>2008-10-18T23:50:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-18T23:50:00.594Z</updated><title type='text'>Take it!</title><content type='html'>Husband and wife are asleep late one night, when she suddenly hears a noise downstairs and wakes up. Then she nudges her husband: "Wake up! There are burglars in the kitchen. I think they are eating the pot roast I made tonight!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do we care," says the husband sleepily. "As long as they don't die in the house ..zzz..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7566682250033205603?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7566682250033205603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7566682250033205603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7566682250033205603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7566682250033205603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/take-it.html' title='Take it!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-3012125549409825467</id><published>2008-10-18T11:18:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:20:25.971Z</updated><title type='text'>My treat!</title><content type='html'>He took his girl to the ice cream parlour. She ordered a banana split. He said to the waitress, "Aw, I can afford it, go ahead and give her the whole thing!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-3012125549409825467?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/3012125549409825467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=3012125549409825467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3012125549409825467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3012125549409825467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-treat.html' title='My treat!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6610069316513123794</id><published>2008-10-17T11:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-17T11:50:00.204Z</updated><title type='text'>A new awareness</title><content type='html'>A domineering man married a mere wisp of a girl. He came back from his honeymoon a chastened husband. He had become aware of the will of the wisp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6610069316513123794?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6610069316513123794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6610069316513123794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6610069316513123794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6610069316513123794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-awareness.html' title='A new awareness'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6049326437764631552</id><published>2008-10-17T11:26:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-17T11:26:00.879Z</updated><title type='text'>Life after death</title><content type='html'>The boss asked one of his employees if he believed in life after death. Uneasily, the employee replied that he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, that makes sense then," said the boss. "About an hour after you left yesterday to go to your grandfather's funeral, he stopped in to see you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6049326437764631552?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6049326437764631552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6049326437764631552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6049326437764631552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6049326437764631552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/life-after-death.html' title='Life after death'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1703639406731911694</id><published>2008-10-16T23:51:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-16T23:51:00.551Z</updated><title type='text'>Cause and effect</title><content type='html'>A woman sought out counselling because she was having severe problems with her sex life. After many questions, the counsellor finally asks, "Do you ever watch your husband's face while you are having sex?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yes, I did once."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, how did he look?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very angry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aha! "Very interesting indeed, we must look into this further. Now tell me, you say that you have only seen your husband's face once during sex? That seems somewhat unusual. How was it that you saw his face that time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He was looking through the window."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1703639406731911694?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1703639406731911694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1703639406731911694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1703639406731911694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1703639406731911694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/cause-and-effect.html' title='Cause and effect'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-5640757797518366800</id><published>2008-10-16T11:04:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-17T05:09:24.502Z</updated><title type='text'>Oh, wonderful!</title><content type='html'>For weeks the child kept telling his kindergarten teacher all about the baby brother or sister that was expected at his house. However, after the mother allowed him to feel the baby kick, he stopped talking about the coming event entirely. Finally the teacher asked about the expected baby directly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The child burst into tears: "I think Mommy ate it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-5640757797518366800?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/5640757797518366800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=5640757797518366800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5640757797518366800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5640757797518366800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-wonderful.html' title='Oh, wonderful!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4546810261909369490</id><published>2008-10-15T23:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-16T22:03:31.092Z</updated><title type='text'>Degrees of happiness</title><content type='html'>John McCain's airplane breaks down on the tarmac on his way to the debate, and so Barack Obama loans him and Sarah Palin a seat on his own. Once they are high in the air, Palin looks down and muses, "You know, I could throw a $100 bill out the window right now, and make someone very happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McCain laughs. "You know, if you threw ten $10 bills out the window, you could make ten people very happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never one to be outdone, Obama suggests, "But throwing a hundred $1 bills out the window would make a hundred people very happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voice of the pilot comes on over the overhead speaker: "If all three of you were to jump out the window, you would make the entire country happy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4546810261909369490?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4546810261909369490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4546810261909369490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4546810261909369490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4546810261909369490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/degrees-of-happiness.html' title='Degrees of happiness'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6788947701021631999</id><published>2008-10-15T23:01:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-16T12:03:12.464Z</updated><title type='text'>For love of art</title><content type='html'>Hear about the burglars who drove up in a van to rob an art museum? Trouble is, when they left, they couldn't make the van go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6788947701021631999?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6788947701021631999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6788947701021631999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6788947701021631999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6788947701021631999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/for-love-of-art.html' title='For love of art'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1915022003831949200</id><published>2008-10-14T23:58:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-17T05:02:45.663Z</updated><title type='text'>The dream of all women</title><content type='html'>Walking along the beach, a man found a bottle half buried in the sand. He opened it, and at once a genie appeared in front of him, who promised him three wishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right," said the man, "first I want a million dollars in a Swiss bank account." &lt;b&gt;*POOF!*&lt;/b&gt; and the access codes were in his hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Next I want a cherry-red Ferrari." &lt;b&gt;*POOF!*&lt;/b&gt; and the car was in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish I were irresistable to women." &lt;b&gt;*POOF!*&lt;/b&gt; and he turned into a box of chocolates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1915022003831949200?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1915022003831949200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1915022003831949200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1915022003831949200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1915022003831949200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/dream-of-all-women.html' title='The dream of all women'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7246320500845840064</id><published>2008-10-13T11:33:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-16T21:37:26.226Z</updated><title type='text'>Monday morning hopes</title><content type='html'>A suggestion box had been put up, and two workers decided to drop in suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe wrote, "The office workers should all be given raises!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank wrote, "Can we all have raises, and keys to the executive washroom, and personal secretaries, and new company cars, and new coffee cups, and longer lunch breaks, and an extra three-weeks holiday each year?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Joe saw Frank's suggestion card, he shook his head. "Frank, that is not the right way of getting things changed around here. You should never put all of your begs in one ask-it ..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7246320500845840064?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7246320500845840064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7246320500845840064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7246320500845840064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7246320500845840064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/monday-morning-hopes.html' title='Monday morning hopes'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-708883421838947420</id><published>2008-10-12T23:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-16T11:47:24.672Z</updated><title type='text'>Coming or going?</title><content type='html'>Right now I am having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I have forgotten this before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-708883421838947420?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/708883421838947420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=708883421838947420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/708883421838947420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/708883421838947420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/coming-or-going.html' title='Coming or going?'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1012457246276332623</id><published>2008-10-12T11:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-12T11:42:00.631Z</updated><title type='text'>A different perspective</title><content type='html'>A priest, a psychologist, and an economist are playing a round of golf when they get stuck behind an extremely slow twosome who are taking what seems like all day to line up their shots and four-putting every green. By the eighth hole, even the priest is saying, "Holy Mary, I pray that they should take some lessons before they play again. The psychologist swears that there are people who must like to play golf as slowly as possible. And the economist is getting impatient, since he really had not expected to spend so much time out on his lunch break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the ninth hole they have had it, so the psychologist goes to the twosome's caddy and demands that they be allowed to play through. The caddy agrees willingly, explaining that the two are retired firefighters who had lost their eyesight while saving people in a fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the priest learns this, he is mortified. "Here I am, a man of the cloth, and I have been swearing at the slow play of two blind men." The psychologist is also mortified: "Here I am, a man trained to help others see past their handicaps, and I can't do so myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the economist goes back to the caddy: "Listen, couldn't they continue their game at night?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1012457246276332623?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1012457246276332623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1012457246276332623' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1012457246276332623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1012457246276332623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/different-perspective.html' title='A different perspective'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17469103.post-1759358922269750265</id><published>2008-10-11T23:39:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-12T09:42:05.608Z</updated><title type='text'>Keeping the economy sound</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;From "Christmas Shopping: A Survivor's Guide", by Dave Barry:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you... may have decided that, this year, you're going to celebrate it the old-fashioned way, with your family sitting around stringing cranberries and exchanging humble, handmade gifts, like on "The Waltons". Well, you can forget it. If everybody pulled that king of subversive stunt, the economy would collapse overnight. The government would have to intervene: it would form a cabinet-level Department of Holiday Gift-Giving, which would spend billions and billions of tax dollars to buy Barbie dolls and electronic games, which it would drop on the populace from Air Force jets, killing and maiming thousands. So, for the good of the nation, you should go along with the Holiday Program. This means you should get a large sum of money and go to a mall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1759358922269750265?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1759358922269750265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1759358922269750265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1759358922269750265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1759358922269750265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/keeping-economy-sound.html' title='Keeping the economy sound'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2981113986886933168</id><published>2008-10-11T11:40:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:40:00.150Z</updated><title type='text'>Accident prone?</title><content type='html'>The cowboy was applying for a health insurance policy, so the insurance agent was going down the list of standard questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ever have an accident?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope, nary a one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? You have never had any accidents at all?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope. Ain't never had one. Never."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That is rather hard to believe. No accidents at all?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, rattler bit me one time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wouldn't you consider that an accident?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hell no. Damned varmint bit me on purpose."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2981113986886933168?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2981113986886933168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2981113986886933168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2981113986886933168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2981113986886933168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/accident-prone.html' title='Accident prone?'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-58294082938306835</id><published>2008-10-10T23:33:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-10T23:33:00.153Z</updated><title type='text'>Wouldn't you like to get away?</title><content type='html'>An anteater walks into a bar and asks for a drink. "Okay," says the bartender. "How about a beer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o," replies the anteater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then how about a gin and tonic?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A martini?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender sets down beside him. "Hey, friend, if you don't mind me asking, why the long no's?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-58294082938306835?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/58294082938306835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=58294082938306835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/58294082938306835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/58294082938306835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/wouldnt-you-like-to-get-away.html' title='Wouldn&apos;t you like to get away?'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8283618388724134973</id><published>2008-10-10T11:44:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-10T11:44:06.095Z</updated><title type='text'>Retraction</title><content type='html'>A member of the Senate, known for his hot temper and acid tongue, explodes one day in mid-session and begins to shout, "Half of this Senate is made up of cowards and corrupt politicians!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At once the gavel comes down on him. If he does not withdraw his statement, he will be removed from the chambers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long pause, the angry senator accepts. "I withdraw what I said. Half of this Senate is NOT made up of cowards and corrupt politicians."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8283618388724134973?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8283618388724134973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8283618388724134973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8283618388724134973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8283618388724134973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/retraction.html' title='Retraction'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4625541662115394065</id><published>2008-10-09T23:22:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T23:22:01.456Z</updated><title type='text'>British hospitality</title><content type='html'>The American tourist was wandering through London's West End, full of stately residences and squares full of locked private gardens ... but no public washrooms. He was bursting to go, and finally he found an alleyway where he thought he would be out of sight -- but just as he was unzipping, a hand tapped him on the shoulder, and the policeman says, "You are about to commit a public nuisance. Come with me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The policeman leads the American to a gate in a particularly high wall, which he unlocks. "Anywhere in there, sir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The American peeps in, and he can't believe his eyes! Manicured lawns, statuary fountains, scultured hedges, huge beds full of gorgeous flowers. After quickly doing his business, the tourist returns to the gate: "Really kind of you. Is that what you call British hospitality?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, sir. That is what we call the French embassy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4625541662115394065?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4625541662115394065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4625541662115394065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4625541662115394065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4625541662115394065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/british-hospitality.html' title='British hospitality'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-5870451819451532982</id><published>2008-10-09T11:35:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T11:35:00.969Z</updated><title type='text'>Choices</title><content type='html'>While walking down the street one day, a high-ranking elected official is tragically hit by a truck and dies. St. Peter is waiting for him at the pearly gates. "Welcome to heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, however, it seems there is a small problem. We so seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we are not sure what to do with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No problem, just let me in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you know, I would like to, but I have orders from higher up. So what we will do instead is to have you spend one day in hell and one day in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, protests the official, he has made up his mind, he wants to be in heaven, but rules are rules. And so he was escorted to the elevator standing right beside the pearly gates, and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open ... and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance he can see a clubhouse, and there, waiting for him, are all his friends and the other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy to see him. They run to greet him, shake his hand, reminisce about the good times they'd had. They play a friendly, leisurely game of golf, and then they dine on lobster, caviar, and champagne. Even the devil turns out to be a very friendly guy, who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before the official realises it, it is time to go. They all give him a hearty farewell as the elevator rises, up, up, up ... and then the doors open and he is standing beside the pearly gates once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now it is time to visit heaven," says St. Peter, and the gates swing open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next 24 hours pass with the official joining a group of contented souls, floating from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time, and before he realises it, his time is up and St. Peter has returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have spent one day in hell and another in heaven. It is time to choose your eternity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The politician reflects for a minute. Then he answers, "Well, I never would have said it before. I mean, heaven has been delightful and all, but I think I would be happier in hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So be it." And St. Peter escorts him back to the elevator, and again he goes down, down, down to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this time, the doors open onto a barren land filled with waste and garbage, and all his friends are dressed in rags. They pick up the trash and put it into black bags, and all the while more trash is raining down from above. It is utterly cold, and utterly desolate, and as the devil comes over to him and puts an arm around his shoulder he begins to despair. "I don't understand," he stammers. "Yesterday I was here, and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and now ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The devil smiles. "Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-5870451819451532982?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/5870451819451532982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=5870451819451532982' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5870451819451532982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5870451819451532982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/choices.html' title='Choices'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7667337374203515337</id><published>2008-10-08T23:06:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T05:37:47.418Z</updated><title type='text'>Hobson's choice</title><content type='html'>Two people are eating dinner at a restaurant. One of them says, "The food in this restaurant is terrible."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," replies the other. "And the portions are so small."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7667337374203515337?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7667337374203515337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7667337374203515337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7667337374203515337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7667337374203515337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/dilemma_08.html' title='Hobson&apos;s choice'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-9101690901534337902</id><published>2008-10-08T11:51:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T05:53:04.877Z</updated><title type='text'>The trappings of success</title><content type='html'>An actor was walking down the street carrying a cigar box. A man complimented him, saying that he must be doing really well to be carrying a cigar box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the actor. "I am moving."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-9101690901534337902?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/9101690901534337902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=9101690901534337902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/9101690901534337902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/9101690901534337902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/trappings-of-success.html' title='The trappings of success'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7111078092485544757</id><published>2008-10-07T23:20:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T23:20:00.835Z</updated><title type='text'>The things they learn!</title><content type='html'>In the window of the pet store was a large, beautiful parrot, and under his cage was a sign that said $50. Intrigued, she went inside: fifty dollars for the parrot? Yes. Did it talk? Yes. Why so little? The owner considered her, then said, "Look, lady, I should tell you first that this bird used to live in a brothel, and sometimes it says some pretty vulgar stuff."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought about this, but after all how bad could it be? So she bought the bird and took it home, setting up its cage in her living room. The bird looked around the room, then at her. After a moment it said, "New house, new madam."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first she was a bit shocked at the implication, but then she thought that it was not really so bad. In fact, it was quite funny in its way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When her two teenage daughters returned from school and the bird saw them, it said, "New house, new madam, new girls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All three of them were a bit offended, but then they began to laugh. It really was quite a clever bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not long afterward, the woman's husband Keith came home from work. The bird looked at him and said, "Hi, Keith."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7111078092485544757?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7111078092485544757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7111078092485544757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7111078092485544757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7111078092485544757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-they-learn.html' title='The things they learn!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8831043155438093177</id><published>2008-10-07T11:22:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T11:22:00.125Z</updated><title type='text'>Dilemma</title><content type='html'>The counterfeiter accidentally made a fake $8 bill instead of a $10 bill. After thinking about it a while, he decided to take it to the local bank, where he asked a teller for change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teller looked at the $8 bill, hesitated, and then gave the crook two $4 bills as change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8831043155438093177?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8831043155438093177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8831043155438093177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8831043155438093177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8831043155438093177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/dilemma.html' title='Dilemma'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-9025054698610464787</id><published>2008-10-06T23:42:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T02:50:48.609Z</updated><title type='text'>Ethics</title><content type='html'>In the judge's chamber, the lawyer looked furtively around, then pulled out a wad of cash. "Here is $50,000," he said. "I really need to win this motion."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge's face turned red. "What kind of judge do you think I am?" he sputtered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer hastily tried to backpedal. "Ah -- er -- I heard you could be bought?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calming down a little, the judge said, "Son, if I were to take your money, I would be committing a gross ethical transgression."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I see," said the lawyer. "I guess taking a bribe is pretty unethical."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the judge looked puzzled. "I don't think you understand. Your opponent has already paid me handsomely. Were I to take your money, it would be a conflict of interest."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-9025054698610464787?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/9025054698610464787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=9025054698610464787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/9025054698610464787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/9025054698610464787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/ethics.html' title='Ethics'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2361871449264900511</id><published>2008-10-06T11:57:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-06T23:06:29.551Z</updated><title type='text'>Great expectations</title><content type='html'>A vacuum cleaner salesman had refined his technique to the point that he was able to plunge straight into his spiel without ever letting the customer get in a word edgewise. When the woman opened the door, he stepped right into the house and emptied a large bag of dirt all over her clean carpet. "If this new vacuum cleaner does not pick up every bit of that dirt," he would say as he plugged it into the nearest electrical outlet, "I will eat the dirt myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, however, there was a snag. The vacuum cleaner failed to turn on. She watched him tug at his collar uncomfortably, while the machine continued to do nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When, finally, he actually looked at her, she smiled. "Sir," she said, "if I had enough money to buy a new vacuum cleaner, I would have paid my electricity bill before they cut it off. Now, what would you prefer, a spoon, or a knife and fork?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2361871449264900511?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2361871449264900511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2361871449264900511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2361871449264900511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2361871449264900511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/great-expectations.html' title='Great expectations'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6039230855963001691</id><published>2008-10-05T11:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T03:09:14.238Z</updated><title type='text'>Seeking the answer</title><content type='html'>All through the church service the pastor had noticed that heavy thoughts had settled on Matthew, a member of his flock. After the service, the pastor gently drew the dejected, dishevelled man to one side. "Matthew," he asked, "what's the matter?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew sighs. "Well, Pastor, my business is shot, they are foreclosing on my house, and my wife says she is going to leave me and take the kids if I don't straighten things out. I just don't know what to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor handed him one of the church Bibles. "Matthew, seek the answer here." And the man leaves, his step a little lighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four months pass. Then, one Sunday, Matthew appears again in church, only this time he is wearing an Armani suit, a nice cap, and as he steps outside after the service, he lights up a cigar. "Thank God!" says the pastor. "Matthew, you look great. Did you follow my advice?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I certainly did. As I went home, I decided to open the Bible and follow its advice. So when I got home, I opened the Bible, and the very first phrase I saw said, Matthew, Chapter 11."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6039230855963001691?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6039230855963001691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6039230855963001691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6039230855963001691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6039230855963001691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/seeking-answer.html' title='Seeking the answer'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-3122259002082003725</id><published>2008-10-04T23:16:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T05:20:40.055Z</updated><title type='text'>Where men are men, and the sheep are scared</title><content type='html'>The Texan was standing at the bar with one of those ... liberals ... from out west, somewhere up Seattle way. After somehow the suggestion of women's liberation had come up, the Texan slammed down his beer. "Here, in Texas, we are men, real men, 100% men!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmm," says the Seattle guy, "interesting. You know, in my neck of the woods, we are 50% men and 50% women, and we really like it that way."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-3122259002082003725?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/3122259002082003725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=3122259002082003725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3122259002082003725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3122259002082003725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/where-men-are-men-and-sheep-are-scared.html' title='Where men are men, and the sheep are scared'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1145507559194424279</id><published>2008-10-04T11:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T05:15:19.219Z</updated><title type='text'>The things that are important</title><content type='html'>At a "Marriage Encounter Weekend", the instructor declared, "It is essential that husbands and wives know the things that are important to each other." To the men, he addressed the question, "Can you name and describe your wife's favourite flower?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walter leaned over, touched Ann's arm gently and whispered, "Robin Hood All-purpose, isn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus began Walter's life of celibacy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1145507559194424279?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1145507559194424279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1145507559194424279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1145507559194424279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1145507559194424279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-that-are-important.html' title='The things that are important'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-3770118546175787826</id><published>2008-10-03T11:34:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T00:37:09.655Z</updated><title type='text'>Real Life 101</title><content type='html'>A young college co-ed came running in tears to her father: "Dad, you gave me some terrible financial advice!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I did? What did I tell you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You told me to put my money in that big bank, and now that big bank is in trouble."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you talking about? That is one of the largest banks in the country. There must be some mistake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think so," she sniffled. "They just returned one of my checks with a note saying, 'Insufficient Funds'."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-3770118546175787826?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/3770118546175787826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=3770118546175787826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3770118546175787826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3770118546175787826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/real-life-101.html' title='Real Life 101'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4819368031623952915</id><published>2008-10-02T11:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T04:22:00.175Z</updated><title type='text'>How to argue effectively</title><content type='html'>I argue very well. Ask any of my remaining friends. I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You too can win arguments. Simply follow these simple rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; Make things up. Suppose, in an argument about the Peruvian economy, you are trying to prove that Peruvians are underpaid: a position you base solely on the fact that YOU are underpaid, and you are not going to let a bunch of Peruvians be better off. DON'T say: "I think Peruvians are underpaid." Say instead: "The average Peruvian's salary in 2001 dollars adjusted for the revised tax base is $1,452.81 per annum, which is $836.07 less than the mean gross poverty level." NOTE: Always make up exact figures. If an opponent asks you where you got your information, make THAT up too. Say: "This information comes from Dr. Hovel T. Moon's study for the Buford Commission, published on May 9, 2002. Haven't you read it?" Say this in the same tone of voice you would use to say, "You left your soiled underwear in my bathroom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; Use meaningless but weighty-sounding words and phrases. Memorise this list:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; Let me put it this way&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; In terms of&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Vis-a-vis&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;i&gt;Per se&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; As it were&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;i&gt;Qua&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; So to speak&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; You should also memorise some Latin abbreviations such as QED, &lt;i&gt;e.g.&lt;/i&gt;, and &lt;i&gt;i.e.&lt;/i&gt;. These are all short for "I speak Latin, and you don't." Here is how to use these words and phrases. Suppose you want to say, "Peruvians would like to order appetisers more often, but they don't have enough money." You never win arguments talking like that ... but you WILL win if you say, "Let me put it this way. In terms of appetisers vis-a-vis Peruvians &lt;i&gt;qua&lt;/i&gt; Peruvians, they would like to order them more often, so to speak, but they do not have enough money &lt;i&gt;per se&lt;/i&gt;, as it were. QED." Only a fool would challenge that statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.&lt;/b&gt; Use snappy and irrelevant comebacks. You need an arsenal of all-purpose irrelevant phrases to fire back at your opponents should they happen to make valid points. The best are:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are begging the question.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; You are being defensive.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Don't compare apples to oranges.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; What are your parameters?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; This last one is especially valuable. Nobody (other than engineers and policy wonks &lt;i&gt;[and the very occasional blogger -T]&lt;/i&gt;) has the vaguest idea what "parameters" means. Don't forget the classic:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; YOU ARE SO LINEAR.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; Here is how to use your comebacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You say:&lt;/b&gt; As Abraham Lincoln said in 1873 ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your opponent says:&lt;/b&gt; Lincoln died in 1865.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You say:&lt;/b&gt; You are begging the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You say:&lt;/b&gt; Liberians, like most Asians ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your opponent says:&lt;/b&gt; Liberia is in Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You say:&lt;/b&gt; You are being defensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4.&lt;/b&gt; Compare your opponent to Adolf Hitler. This is your heavy artillery, for when your opponent is obviously right and you are spectacularly wrong. Bring Hitler up subtly. Say, "That sounds suspiciously like something Adolf Hitler might say," or "You certainly do remind me of Adolf Hitler."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4819368031623952915?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4819368031623952915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4819368031623952915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4819368031623952915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4819368031623952915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-to-argue-effectively.html' title='How to argue effectively'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7026929246165469099</id><published>2008-09-30T11:10:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T06:13:21.317Z</updated><title type='text'>Insufficient funds</title><content type='html'>"What do you mean, 'insufficient funds'?" stormed the bank customer. "I have been depositing a hundred dollars a month into this chequing account since I started my new job. Now you return my cheque for $50 with the stamp, 'insufficient funds'!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir," said the bank teller, "that stamp could mean that you have insufficient funds. It could also mean that we have insufficient funds."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7026929246165469099?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7026929246165469099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7026929246165469099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7026929246165469099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7026929246165469099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/insufficient-funds.html' title='Insufficient funds'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1146393397408743846</id><published>2008-09-29T11:28:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T01:00:56.110Z</updated><title type='text'>An easy buck</title><content type='html'>An would-be investor had found a stock that looked intriguing: and at only $1 a share, he thought it was a risk worth taking. So he called his broker and had him buy a thousand-share block. Worst-case scenario, he would be out a thousand dollars. Best case ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, he was thrilled to discover the stock had risen to $2 a share. Happy to have guessed right, he at once called up the broker and had him purchase five blocks of a thousand shares each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the stock had risen to $4. Ecstatic, he ran to the telephone and had his broker purchase a hundred more blocks of shares, taking out an operating loan to finance the deal: 100,000 shares in total.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the stock had risen to $9. "Great!" he shouted into the telephone. "Sell, sell, sell!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To whom?" asked the broker. "You were the only one buying that stock."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1146393397408743846?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1146393397408743846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1146393397408743846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1146393397408743846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1146393397408743846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/easy-buck.html' title='An easy buck'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7266515969404186961</id><published>2008-09-28T23:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T03:47:08.861Z</updated><title type='text'>Temptation</title><content type='html'>The wife came home wearing a new mink coat. He at once exploded in anger: "What in the world were were thinking? You know I can't afford a coat like that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, sweetie," said the wife, "I tried to resist. I said, 'get thee behind me, Satan.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And?" said the husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said, 'Hey, it looks good from the back too.'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7266515969404186961?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7266515969404186961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7266515969404186961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7266515969404186961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7266515969404186961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/temptation.html' title='Temptation'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2366379728194923935</id><published>2008-09-28T11:47:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T03:56:59.437Z</updated><title type='text'>All in the family</title><content type='html'>A Jesuit, a Dominican, and a Franciscan were walking along an old road, debating the relative merit of their orders. Suddenly, an apparition of the Holy Family appeared in front of them, with Mary carrying the baby Jesus and Joseph beside her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Franciscan fell on his face, overcome with awe at the sight of such holiness amid such poverty. The Dominican fell to his knees before their divine beauty. The Jesuit walked up to Joseph, put his arm around his shoulder, and said, "So, where are you thinking of sending the kid for school?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2366379728194923935?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2366379728194923935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2366379728194923935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2366379728194923935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2366379728194923935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/all-in-family.html' title='All in the family'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-85924641182122880</id><published>2008-09-26T23:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-29T17:41:28.769Z</updated><title type='text'>Happy tenth birthday, Google!</title><content type='html'>One of the very first languages supported by Google was Klingon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/tenthbirthday/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7ZYqYi4xigk/SN8vI9rWa3I/AAAAAAAABxU/NAYAbjNeQLo/s320/birthday10th_comp_020.jpg" alt="Happy 10th birthday, Google!" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250967521579133810" 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/17469103-85924641182122880?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/85924641182122880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=85924641182122880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/85924641182122880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/85924641182122880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/happy-tenth-birthday-google.html' title='Happy tenth birthday, Google!'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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/_7ZYqYi4xigk/SN8vI9rWa3I/AAAAAAAABxU/NAYAbjNeQLo/s72-c/birthday10th_comp_020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17469103.post-8074840909409416279</id><published>2008-09-26T11:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-09-27T16:58:23.372Z</updated><title type='text'>Depression-era humour</title><content type='html'>A man was selling apples on the street for five cents each. He bragged to a friend he was making a fortune, selling hundreds a day, "and they only cost me 6 cents each!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Friend:&lt;/b&gt; "How can you make money selling apples for 5 cents when they cost you 6 cents?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Apple vendor:&lt;/b&gt; "Volume!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8074840909409416279?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8074840909409416279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8074840909409416279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8074840909409416279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8074840909409416279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/depression-era-humour.html' title='Depression-era humour'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2767372298494325793</id><published>2008-09-25T11:20:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-09T06:23:34.808Z</updated><title type='text'>Everything in triplicate</title><content type='html'>The corporal staggers in with a large stack of papers to be signed. After a bit, the colonel notices that a fair number of them are copies, so he asks why so many copies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The corporal replies that he needs:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; One copy for his files&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; One copy for HQ&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; A replacement copy for the copy HQ loses&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; And one copy to destroy in case he winds up in the hands of the enemy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2767372298494325793?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2767372298494325793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2767372298494325793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2767372298494325793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2767372298494325793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/everything-in-triplicate.html' title='Everything in triplicate'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-8957273518767595870</id><published>2008-09-22T23:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T00:30:51.302Z</updated><title type='text'>A fresh start</title><content type='html'>She had lost her savings, she had lost her home, and now she had quit entirely on her California life and spent her last dime to make her way north to Canada for a fresh start. And wouldn't you know it, as she stood shivering on the pier in Vancouver, staring out into the murky waters, she ran into a young, handsome sailor who made her an offer: "My ship sails for Hawai'i in the morning. If you like, I can stow you away. I promise to take good care of you and bring you food everyday." He moved closer, slipping his arm around her shoulder. "I will keep you happy, and you will keep me happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was young, he was handsome, and after barely a moment she agreed. She had been prepared to make a new start ... and whatever else, Hawai'i would be warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he brought her secretly on board and hid her in a lifeboat. From that point on, every evening at the end of his watch he brought her three sandwiches and some fruit juice, and then they would make passionate love until it came time for the sailor's next watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could not last, of course. Two weeks later, she was discovered by the captain during a routine inspection. "What are you doing here?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have an arrangement with one of the sailors," she explained. "He gets me food and this passage to Hawai'i, and in return he is screwing me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He certainly is," agreed the captain. "You are on the Nanaimo ferry."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-8957273518767595870?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/8957273518767595870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=8957273518767595870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8957273518767595870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/8957273518767595870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/fresh-start.html' title='A fresh start'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-5017351280737376234</id><published>2008-09-20T23:59:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T05:16:50.265Z</updated><title type='text'>Long way from nowhere</title><content type='html'>Sick of foreclosures, sick of the stock market, sick of humanity generally, Tom sold every last thing he still owned and bought 50 acres of deep wilderness land in Alaska, at the very end of a gravel road as far from any settled areas as he could get. Once a month a delivery person drops off the milk and a few other odd groceries, along with his mail. Otherwise it is total peace and quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After six months of this, someone knocks on his door. Tom opens it, and a huge, bearded man is standing there. "Name's Lars," the man says shortly, "neighbour from up the road. Having a Thanksgiving party Friday night, thought you might like to come."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now after six months of near total isolation, Tom is all ready to meet some local folks. "Thanks," he says, "I will be there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gotta warn you, there'll be some drinkin'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not a problem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"More 'n likely some fightin', too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I get along with people, I'll be all right. Thanks again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"More'n likely some wild sex, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now that is really not a problem," says Tom, smiling. "I have been all alone for six months! I will definitely be there. By the way, what should I wear?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't much matter. Just gonna be the two of us."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-5017351280737376234?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/5017351280737376234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=5017351280737376234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5017351280737376234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5017351280737376234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/long-way-from-nowhere.html' title='Long way from nowhere'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-2552260137979714163</id><published>2008-09-04T11:25:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-10T23:13:36.862Z</updated><title type='text'>Social circles</title><content type='html'>So Bubba was bragging yet again about how he knew everyone there was to know, just name someone, anyone, and he knew them. So the bartender finally decides to call his bluff: "Okay, how about Harrison Ford?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure, Harrison and I are old friends." And Bubba arranges for the two of them to fly out to Hollywood. They arrive at the studio and knock on Harrison Ford's door -- and sure enough, Harrison shouts out, "Bubba! Great to see you! You and your friend come right in and join me for lunch!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although impressed, the bartender is unwilling to let it go. Maybe it was just coincidence? So Bubba challenges him to name someone else, and the bartender quickly comes up with: "How about the president?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure, no problem. Let's fly out to Washington." Off they go -- and when the president spots Bubba at the front gates of the White House, he motions him and the bartender over: "Bubba, what a surprise! I was just on my way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in! and let's have a cup of coffee first and catch up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the bartender is very curious now, but still not totally convinced. After all, the president meets a lot of people during all the campaigning. So Bubba suggests he name someone else, anyone else, and after a moment the bartender comes up with: "The pope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure, no problem," says Bubba, and off they fly to Rome. But when they find themselves assembled with the masses in Vatican Square, Bubba shakes his head: "This will never work. I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people. Tell you what, I am sure I can speak to the guards and ask to go upstairs. Then I will come out on the balcony with the pope." And with that, he disappears into the crowd, headed for the Vatican doors. Less than half an hour later, as promised, he has emerged on the balcony with the pope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when he returns, he finds that his friend surrounded by paramedics after having had a heart attack. Working his way to his friend's side, Bubba asks urgently, "What happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened!" echoes the bartender. "I was doing fine when you and the pope came out on the balcony, until the man next to me said, 'Who is that on the balcony with Bubba?'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-2552260137979714163?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/2552260137979714163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=2552260137979714163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2552260137979714163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/2552260137979714163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/social-circles.html' title='Social circles'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-3848882030924684535</id><published>2008-09-03T23:30:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:30:00.738Z</updated><title type='text'>A sudden change of heart</title><content type='html'>Richard comes in to work one day wearing an earring. His coworker is a bit startled: he knows Richard to be a somewhat conservative fellow, and now he can't help but be curious about the sudden change in fashion sense. At the coffee break he asks Richard about it, and Richard shrugs and sheepishly says that it is only an earring, not a big deal or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, really, how long have you been wearing one?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ever since my wife found it in our bed."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-3848882030924684535?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/3848882030924684535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=3848882030924684535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3848882030924684535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/3848882030924684535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/sudden-change-of-heart.html' title='A sudden change of heart'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-5232620250798992074</id><published>2008-09-02T23:47:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-03T03:57:20.123Z</updated><title type='text'>Getting it right</title><content type='html'>The nurse and the doctor stopped off at their usual bar for their usual after-work libations, a margarita and a hazelnut daiquiri. The bartender has already begun making the drinks before he suddenly discovers that he was completely out of hazelnut extract. Thinking quickly, he throws together a daiquiri made with hickory nuts instead, and sets the two drinks on the bar in front of the doctors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All to no avail. After a single sip, the doctor exclaims, "This isn't a hazelnut daiquiri. It tastes like hickory nuts!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course it's not," says the nurse. "It is a hickory daiquiri, doc."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-5232620250798992074?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/5232620250798992074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=5232620250798992074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5232620250798992074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5232620250798992074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/getting-it-right.html' title='Getting it right'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4655863040556091963</id><published>2008-09-01T11:17:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-02T09:27:52.524Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It was a ritual the captain performed religiously. Each and every morning, before breakfast, even before giving a single order, he would open a small safe in his cabin, open the envelope inside it, unfold the note it contained, and read it. Only then, after returning it safely to its containment, would he set about his daily duties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For years this went on, and after a while his crew became understandably curious. Was it a treasure map? Was it a letter from a long lost love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, one day when the captain was called up suddenly to the deck, his first mate discovered that he had accidentally left the envelope on the table next to the open safe. Curiosity quickly won. The mate opened the envelope, took out the note, and to his astonishment he read the words:&lt;p align=center&gt;&lt;b&gt;Port: Left. Starboard: Right.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4655863040556091963?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4655863040556091963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4655863040556091963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4655863040556091963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4655863040556091963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/09/it-was-ritual-captain-performed.html' title=''/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-9135467659228308598</id><published>2008-08-27T11:39:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-07T02:00:46.904Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A young man, poor in money but rich in gumption and entrepreneurial spirit, asked an old rich man how he had made his money. The venerable senior leaned back. "It was 1932, the deepest point of the Great Depression. Businesses were folding left and right, and there were a hundred people lining up for even the prospect of a possible day's work. I was down to my very last nickel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, son, I invested that nickel in an apple. I spent the entire day polishing that apple. And, at the end of the day, I was able to sell the apple for six cents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"By the end of the week, I was able to invest the profits into a second apple. I spent the entire day polishing them, and at 5:00 pm I sold them for twelve cents. I continued this system for an entire month, at the end of which I had acquired a fortune of nearly two dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then my wife's father died and left us two million dollars."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-9135467659228308598?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/9135467659228308598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=9135467659228308598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/9135467659228308598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/9135467659228308598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/08/young-man-poor-in-money-but-rich-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6762631445313073777</id><published>2008-08-26T11:05:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-02T09:16:50.269Z</updated><title type='text'>Comparative value</title><content type='html'>The world famous heart surgeon was taking his car in to be serviced. The mechanic recognises him. Out loud he wonders, "So you bring your car to me, because you know that I do good work. I clean out the engine, replace valves, make sure everything is just as it should be, and by the time I am finished this baby will purr like a kitten. So how come you get the big bucks, when you and I are doing basically the same work?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surgeon smiles. "Try doing it with the engine running."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6762631445313073777?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6762631445313073777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6762631445313073777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6762631445313073777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6762631445313073777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/08/comparative-value.html' title='Comparative value'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-872248691989294655</id><published>2008-08-25T11:50:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-02T09:01:39.305Z</updated><title type='text'>Did you ever have one of those days?</title><content type='html'>A magician was spending the winter working on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. Since the audience was different every week, he thought it would be perfectly acceptable to do the same routine of tricks each time -- but he had forgotten that the captain's parrot would see the show each time. After a short while, it began to understand how the magician did every trick; and then it started commenting on them during the show: "Look, it's not the same hat!" "Look, he is hiding the flowers under the table!" "Hey, why are all the cards the ace of spades?" The magician was furious, but he could not do a thing about it. The bird was, after all, the captain's parrot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, one day, the ship sank. The magician found himself clinging to a piece of wood in the middle of the ocean, and wouldn't you know it, the parrot had found a perch on the other side. They stared at each other for hours, for days, for nearly a week, before the parrot finally broke: "Okay, I give up. Where is the boat?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-872248691989294655?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/872248691989294655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=872248691989294655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/872248691989294655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/872248691989294655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/08/did-you-ever-have-one-of-those-days.html' title='Did you ever have one of those days?'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7519476808234081030</id><published>2008-08-24T23:38:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:54:03.073Z</updated><title type='text'>Honesty is its own reward</title><content type='html'>Facing the imminent loss of their house of many years, an elderly couple were slowly walking back to their old school. It was not locked so they went in, and there they found the old desk they had shared all those years ago as childhood sweethearts, where Andy had carved, &lt;i&gt;I love you Sally&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they walked slowly home, a bag of money fell out of an armoured car, practically at their feet. Sally quickly picked it up. The truck was long gone, so they decided to take it home. They counted it out: fifty thousand dollars! "We have to give it back," Andy said at once, but she shook her head and hid the money in the attic, breathing a small sigh of relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day a couple of police officers were canvassing the neighbourhood, and in time they knocked at their door: "Pardon me, did either of you find a bag that fell out of an armoured car yesterday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Ah, he is getting senile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the police officers turned to Andy and asked him to tell them what had happened. So he began, "Well, when Sally and I were walking home from school yesterday ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One police officer looked at the other. Then they shrugged and left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7519476808234081030?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7519476808234081030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7519476808234081030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7519476808234081030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7519476808234081030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/08/honesty-is-its-own-reward.html' title='Honesty is its own reward'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7589242991279818683</id><published>2008-08-24T11:07:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-09-02T08:16:11.842Z</updated><title type='text'>Moral guidance</title><content type='html'>After mass, a priest was approached by one of his flock who had a rather unusual problem. Seems her two female parrots had come with a single pre-learned phrase: "Hi, we are hookers. Wanna have some fun?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh dear," exclaims the priest. "But as it happens, I have a solution to your problem. Bring your two female parrots to my house. I will put them with my two male parrots, whom I have taught to pray and read the Bible. Your parrots will soon learn to stop saying that terrible phrase and learn how to pray and worship instead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady is very relieved, and brings her female parrots to the priest's home the very next day, and finds the priest's two male parrots praying a rosary. He places the newcomers in the cage with them, and at once the female parrots pipe up and say, "Hi, we are hookers. Wanna have some fun?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two male parrots glance at each other. Then one exclaims, "PUT THE BIBLES AWAY! OUR PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7589242991279818683?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7589242991279818683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7589242991279818683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7589242991279818683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7589242991279818683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/08/moral-guidance.html' title='Moral guidance'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-1251059284680087618</id><published>2008-08-02T23:43:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-08-03T09:45:36.512Z</updated><title type='text'>Gone fishing</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;From the Westcar Papyrus, roughly dated at 1600 BCE, and believed to be about King Snorfru:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Q: How do you entertain a bored pharaoh?&lt;br /&gt;A:&lt;/b&gt; You sail a boatload of young women dressed only in fishing nets down the Nile and urge the pharaoh to go catch a fish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-1251059284680087618?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/1251059284680087618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=1251059284680087618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1251059284680087618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/1251059284680087618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/08/gone-fishing.html' title='Gone fishing'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-4763802357622537437</id><published>2008-07-29T11:43:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-10-17T10:46:56.916Z</updated><title type='text'>Solutions</title><content type='html'>A chemical engineer, an electrical engineer, and a software engineer are driving down the road when the car suddenly stalls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chemical engineer says, "It could be something in the fuel line. If we put an additive into the gas tank, that should take care of the problem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The electrical engineer says, "It could be something in the electrical system. If we replace the wires and the distributor cap, that should take care of the problem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The software engineer says, "It could be that we have too many windows open. If we close all the windows, turn off the car, then restart the car and open all the windows again, that should take care of the problem."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-4763802357622537437?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/4763802357622537437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=4763802357622537437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4763802357622537437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/4763802357622537437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/solutions.html' title='Solutions'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-5720158775412052844</id><published>2008-07-28T11:04:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-07-28T11:04:00.862Z</updated><title type='text'>President's daily pop quiz: energy options</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.metafilter.com/30878/Helium3-on-the-Moon#615790"&gt;troutfishing&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choose one of the following for the new US Federal Energy Policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) Create mammoth program costing hundreds of billions, perhaps even trillions, to loft millions of tons of mining and manufacturing equipment and other misc. junk off the Earth, to build a base on the Moon which will mine Helium 3 for fusion reactors. Don't put any nuclear weapons there, though, because that could turn into a real life replay of "Space 1999".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B) Spend about 1/100 of that sum to get the same amount of energy from free and abundant sunlight, through proven technologies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C) Spend about 1/200 of that sum to "create" the same amount of energy by accelerating implementation of energy-efficient technologies that dramatically reduce energy demand. Also, replace all the incandescent light bulbs with compact fluorescent ones and make refrigerators more efficient by stuffing freezers full of tasty, nutritious USDA surplus grade "A" beef, plus lots of "The Other White Meat" as well. Fill unused fridge space with junk mail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D) Spend a few hundred billion to counter the insidious propaganda of the damn liberals -- with all of their crazy, radical ideas about how wonderful grass and trees and wild animals (which are attacking us at every turn) are -- who are preventing those of us who need those resources from getting at that which is our God-given right. Trees belong in a tree museum, animals in zoos, and oil belongs in my Lincoln Navigator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Channel this two or three hundred billion to responsible public relations firms which will teach Americans proper Biblically-derived Wise Use® resource exploitation ethics. Then -- the Free Market will take care of the rest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will scrape off the first mile or so of the Earth's surface to get at all that oil, gas, and coal we know is under there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D-1) If we scrape off enought dirt, the Earth's molten core will keep us warm. We will, however, need to put all the dirt somewhere. Development of the proven "Sky-Hook" technology, and the subsequent construction of this "power winch to the stars", would also be invaluable in reducing the cost of building a space station on the Moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E) Merge obesity reduction program with energy generation: fat Americans will make electricity riding on exercise bikes equipped with alternators that feed juice into the grid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F) Turn down the thermostat and put on a sweater, and occasionally carpool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G) Enslave all the people of Canada and Mexico, and make THEM ride exercise bikes to generate our electricity. They can live on our table scraps and leftovers. We eat too much anyway. They will be quite grateful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H) Why worry? Everything will work out okay in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I) Stop driving, turn off the heat, and keep warm by shuffling about in the dark and cold, shivering and cursing almighty God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J) Begin crash bio-engineering program to genetically alter humans to accept cellulose-eating bacteria into their intestinal tracts, like cows and sheep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won't need to "get" energy: we will make our own! Out of materials in our own backyards! We will be able to eat grass, trees, and random shrubbery for food, and what energy we need we can get by duct-taping tubes to our asses whilst we sit on the couch watching TV and gnawing on wood chunks, farting out methane. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J) Invade Mexico and Central America. Who needs energy when you can live in a hut on the beach for free, eating fire-roasted fish, drinking cheap beer, and getting a great tan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K) There are two "J" options. Did you notice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L) Prayer has the power to transform reality: it can reach back through the past to change history, and can even reverse the flow of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M) Our friends in Israel will help us out with that little Mideast "problem". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L) Why worry? Worrying produces stress, and stress hormones are the deadliest toxins that most of us encounter on a daily basis. Stress takes years off our lives. Stress is bad, got that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be chill, and let the worrywarts get really, obsessively, worried about energy, until they keel over and die. There will be plenty of energy for the rest of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K) Collect old newspapers, like the Collyer Brothers. Newspaper is a good insulator, plus you can roll it into logs with proven 1970s technology. Burn the newspaper logs in the fireplace for heat, and redevelop the woefully neglected line of research that was dropped when they stopped making Stanley Steamers. Cars can run on newspaper, mark my words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J) Run the power plants and cars on Hemp oil, and smoke lots of pot. If it was good enough for George Washington, it is good enough for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I) Heat should NOT be a problem, if all this "Global Warming" stuff the scientists are always jabbering about is true. We should SPEED UP Global Warming, and set Earth's "thermostat" at a pleasant 72 degrees Fahrenheit. It would be like living in Florida all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we burn oil, coal, and natural gas even faster, we will more quickly bring on the day when we can turn off our home heating systems forever. Then, we will have twice as much oil left over to use to power our cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H) Didn't that "Time Cube" guy figure all this stuff out already? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G) Why is this quiz so long? I am confused. This list of options seems endless, like it is running in reverse or something. I am hungry. What's for lunch?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-5720158775412052844?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/5720158775412052844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=5720158775412052844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5720158775412052844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5720158775412052844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/presidents-daily-pop-quiz-energy.html' title='President&apos;s daily pop quiz: energy options'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-5614142355220811983</id><published>2008-07-27T11:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:03:01.369Z</updated><title type='text'>Lost in translation</title><content type='html'>A nearsighted minister glanced at the note that Mrs. Jones had passed him via usher. It read, "Bill Jones having gone to sea, his wife desires the prayers of the congregation for his safety."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Failing to observe the punctuation, he startled his audience by announcing. "Bill Jones, having gone to see his wife, desires the prayers of the congregation for his safety."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-5614142355220811983?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/5614142355220811983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=5614142355220811983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5614142355220811983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/5614142355220811983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/lost-in-translation.html' title='Lost in translation'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6145262076005480697</id><published>2008-07-26T11:48:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-10-06T23:53:53.551Z</updated><title type='text'>Twisted home remedies</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; When choking on an ice cube, simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat. Presto! The blockage will instantly remove itself.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Avoid cutting yourself slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold while you chop.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by using the sink.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; To treat high blood pressure: simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. (Remember to use a timer.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives. Then you will be too afraid to cough.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6145262076005480697?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6145262076005480697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6145262076005480697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6145262076005480697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6145262076005480697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/twisted-home-remedies.html' title='Twisted home remedies'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-686303670674852648</id><published>2008-07-25T11:57:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-09-02T08:02:23.894Z</updated><title type='text'>His turn</title><content type='html'>The newly minted driver had just received his brand new driver's licence, and he wanted desperately to show it off for his parents. His father heads directly for the back seat, right behind his son. Beaming, the teenager comments, "Too many months of sitting in the front passenger seat, teaching me how to drive?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope," replies the father. "I just wanted to sit back here and kick the back of your seat as you drive, just like you have been doing to me all these years."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-686303670674852648?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/686303670674852648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=686303670674852648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/686303670674852648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/686303670674852648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/his-turn.html' title='His turn'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-839550116808821004</id><published>2008-07-24T23:42:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-07-24T23:42:01.020Z</updated><title type='text'>On a beautiful deserted island</title><content type='html'>It is the middle of nowhere, and the following people have been stranded:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two Italian men and one Italian woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two French men and one French woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two German men and one German woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two Greek men and one Greek woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two English men and one English woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two Polish men and one Polish woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two Japanese men and one Japanese woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two American men and one American woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two Australian men and one Australian woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two New Zealand men and one New Zealand woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Two Irish men and one Irish woman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One month later, the following things have occurred: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; One Italian man killed the other Italian man for the Italian woman.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The two French men and the French woman are living happily together and having loads of sex.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The two German men have a strict weekly schedule of when they alternate with the German woman.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt; The two Greek men are sleeping with each other, and the Greek woman is cleaning and cooking for them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The two English men are waiting for someone to introduce them to the English woman.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The Polish men took a long look at the endless ocean, a shorter look at the Polish woman, and then they started swimming.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The two American men are contemplating the virtues of suicide, while the American woman keeps on bitching about her body being her own, the true nature of feminism, how she can do everything that they can do, about the necessity of fulfillment, the equal division of household chores, how her last boyfriend respected her opinion and treated her much nicer and how her relationship with her mother is improving. But at least the taxes are low and it is not raining.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The two Japanese men have faxed Tokyo and are waiting for further instructions.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The two Australian men beat each other senseless for the Australian woman, who is checking out all the other men after calling them both 'bloody wankers'.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Both New Zealand men are searching the island for sheep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; The Irish began by dividing the island into North and South and by setting up a distillery. They do not remember if sex is in the picture because it gets sort of foggy after the first few litres of coconut whiskey, but they are satisfied in that at least the English are not getting any.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-839550116808821004?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/839550116808821004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=839550116808821004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/839550116808821004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/839550116808821004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/on-beautiful-deserted-island.html' title='On a beautiful deserted island'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-6142709183289727719</id><published>2008-07-23T23:09:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-07-24T00:18:46.654Z</updated><title type='text'>Murphy's law for astronomers</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Law of Selective Gravitation:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small items such as locking screws will land in the place from which they are most difficult to retrieve; heavy items such as counterweights will land where they cause the most pain and/or damage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Law of Selective Vegetation:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The neighbour's tree always migrates to precisely the right place to occult your target object.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Law of Selective Observation:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next supernova will occur in a galaxy that you observed on the previous clear night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Law of Selective Declination:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most interesting astronomical event of the year will occur at a declination that is below the horizon of your observing site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sod's Law (astronomer's variant):&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dropped optic will always land surface-side down, unless it is either capped or dropped for the express purpose of proving this law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Law of Inevitable Shrinkage:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything cut to size, such as solar film, will be too small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Law of Temporary Loss:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lost item will stay lost until it is either replaced or no longer required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Law of Averted Vision:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brightest meteor of the night will occur behind you, visible only to the people to whom you are talking at the time. This is true for all observers, including those to whom you were talking. &lt;i&gt;[And it has been true for me! That makes not one, but two fireball meteors I have missed so far! - T]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lunar Radiation Principle:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep Sky observers will find that the clearest nights are around the full moon, when the lunar radiation is sufficient to drive off the clouds and haze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Daylight Conundrum:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the unique exception of total solar eclipses, the year's ten most interesting astronomical events will occur when the sun is above your horizon, unless it is raining.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-6142709183289727719?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/6142709183289727719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=6142709183289727719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6142709183289727719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/6142709183289727719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/murphys-law-for-astronomers.html' title='Murphy&apos;s law for astronomers'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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-17469103.post-7234363173663007244</id><published>2008-07-23T11:22:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-07-23T11:26:32.840Z</updated><title type='text'>Generosity</title><content type='html'>The businessman was riding to work in his limousine when the car happened to pass a man who was eating grass. At once he told his driver to stop, and then he got out and asked the man, "Why are you eating grass?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't afford anything else to eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Poor guy," said the businessman, "come back to my house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I have a wife and three kids."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bring them along!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they were all together in the car, the poor man said, "Thank you so much for taking us back to your house. It is very kind of you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The businessman smiled. "You are going to love it there, the grass is a foot tall."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17469103-7234363173663007244?l=onceuponasmile.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/feeds/7234363173663007244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17469103&amp;postID=7234363173663007244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7234363173663007244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17469103/posts/default/7234363173663007244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponasmile.blogspot.com/2008/07/generosity.html' title='Generosity'/><author><name>Tenebris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00167974739904832229</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>
