<?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-6104351711499125402</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:19:36.838-06:00</updated><category term='Cars'/><category term='Truth'/><category term='Babies'/><category term='Bad Day'/><category term='Relationships'/><category term='Motivation'/><category term='Animals'/><category term='Authority'/><category term='Discipline'/><category term='Crime'/><category term='Blondes'/><category term='Dogs'/><category term='Manners'/><category term='Secrets'/><category term='Hunting'/><category term='Cowboys'/><category term='Military'/><category term='Hospitals'/><category term='College'/><category term='first post'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Bible'/><category term='Unity'/><category term='Marketing'/><category term='Work'/><category term='Contests'/><category term='Sunday School'/><category term='Communication'/><category term='Nurses'/><category term='News'/><category term='Drinking'/><category term='Medical'/><category term='Quotes'/><category term='Aging Parody'/><category term='Lawyers'/><category term='Current Events'/><category term='Decisions'/><category term='Geeks'/><category term='Weddings'/><category term='Doctors'/><category term='Nerds'/><category term='Rules'/><category term='Behavior'/><category term='Moms'/><category term='Feuds'/><category term='Prayer'/><category term='Commuting'/><category term='Church'/><category term='Rural'/><category term='Puns'/><category term='Mistakes'/><category term='Beauty'/><category term='testing'/><category term='Riddles'/><category term='Creative Thinking'/><category term='Handy Household Tips'/><category term='Summer'/><category term='Marriage'/><category term='Traffic'/><category term='Frustration'/><category term='Technology'/><category term='Men and Women'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Friendship'/><category term='Airplanes'/><category term='Recreation'/><category term='Management'/><category term='Misunderstandings'/><category term='Students'/><category term='Attitude'/><category term='Drama'/><category term='Finance'/><category term='Politics'/><category term='Government'/><category term='Parents'/><category term='Heat'/><category term='Pride'/><category term='Songs'/><category term='Medicine'/><category term='Shopping'/><category term='Food'/><category term='Weather'/><category term='Teachers'/><category term='Aging'/><category term='Money'/><category term='Resistance'/><category term='Religion'/><category term='Heaven'/><category term='School'/><category term='Kids'/><category term='Arguments'/><category term='Bedtime'/><category term='Cooking'/><category term='Problem Solving'/><category term='Indians'/><category term='Office'/><category term='Holiday'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Creation'/><category term='Science'/><category term='Intelligence'/><category term='Fairness'/><category term='Farmers'/><category term='Life Lessons'/><category term='Laws'/><category term='Teenagers'/><category term='Critical Thinking'/><category term='Heros'/><category term='Investments'/><category term='Business'/><category term='Trustworthy'/><category term='Computers'/><category term='Cats'/><category term='Cops'/><category term='Tools'/><category term='One-liners'/><category term='Excersize'/><category term='Blindness'/><category term='One Liners'/><category term='Sports'/><category term='Training'/><category term='Outdoors'/><category term='Chores'/><title type='text'>Robot Comic</title><subtitle type='html'>This is Keith's computer. I get so fed up with working all the time. I just have to cut loose and do something wild. Here's some cool jokes that I think are hilarious. Keith says they are old and tired, but they are all new to me. If you like what you see, you can always leave a comment, or subscribe using the link on the page. 

Starting October 8, 2008, the Joke Titles are now clickable to listen to me, the Robot Comic and my friends, the Retrobots.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>145</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1729037156652173216</id><published>2008-12-05T13:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T14:07:41.842-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hunting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Puns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>Hunting Accident in Alaska</title><content type='html'>A guy, out hunting in Alaska, accidentally shoots a polar bear. Realising&lt;br /&gt;his mistake, he reports the incident to the local ranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later, he gets a letter in the mail, telling him that he is being&lt;br /&gt;taken to court by the park service. Arriving at court, he explains to the&lt;br /&gt;judge&lt;br /&gt;what happened, and the judge comes to a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As you didn't kill this protected species intentionally, I don't intend to&lt;br /&gt;send you to prison", the judge says. "However, it is still a serious error&lt;br /&gt;on&lt;br /&gt;your part, and I intend to deal with you by way of a fine, based upon the&lt;br /&gt;body weight of the animal".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For every one pound of body weight, you will be fined $10". Consulting his&lt;br /&gt;records, the judge finds the weight of the bear, as recorded by the park&lt;br /&gt;services,&lt;br /&gt;and calls for a calculator. After a minute of two, he calls the hunter to&lt;br /&gt;the bench, and gives his judgement; a fine of $9,000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The representative of the park services jumps to his feet, and approaches&lt;br /&gt;the judge. "Your Honour", he says, "With the greatest respect, I believe you've&lt;br /&gt;made a mistake in your calculations".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We weighed the animal shortly after it was shot, and it weighed a total of&lt;br /&gt;1000 pounds". "Surely, based on that measurement, the fine should be&lt;br /&gt; $10,000".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge looks at the ranger, and says, "I made a calculation, taking into&lt;br /&gt;consideration, the animals' weight, minus its two front paws". Looking&lt;br /&gt;rather&lt;br /&gt;confused, the ranger asks, "but why did you not include the front paws in&lt;br /&gt;your calculation?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because", the judge replies, "Every American has the right to bear arms!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1729037156652173216?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-12-05T11_46_34-08_00.mp3' title='Hunting Accident in Alaska'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1729037156652173216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1729037156652173216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1729037156652173216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1729037156652173216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/12/hunting-accident-in-alaska.html' title='Hunting Accident in Alaska'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5339559475457607254</id><published>2008-12-03T11:02:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T11:03:32.261-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Life With a True Football Fan</title><content type='html'>After spending all day Sunday watching football games on television,&lt;br /&gt;a man fell asleep in his lounge chair, spending the entire night in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife woke him in the morning. "It's twenty to seven," she called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In whose favor?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5339559475457607254?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-12-03T09_00_37-08_00.mp3' title='Life With a True Football Fan'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5339559475457607254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5339559475457607254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5339559475457607254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5339559475457607254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/12/life-with-true-football-fan.html' title='Life With a True Football Fan'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8056130082114264232</id><published>2008-12-01T09:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T09:41:01.035-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Magic Penny</title><content type='html'>My husband and I had just finished tucking our five young ones into bed&lt;br /&gt;one evening when we heard sobbing coming from three-year-old Billy's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rushing to his side, we found him crying hysterically. He had&lt;br /&gt;accidentally swallowed a penny and was sure he was going to die. No&lt;br /&gt;amount of talking could change his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desperate to calm him, my husband palmed a penny that he happened to&lt;br /&gt;have in his pocket and pretended to pull it from Billy's ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy was delighted. In a flash, he snatched it from my husband's hand,&lt;br /&gt;swallowed it and demanded cheerfully, "Do it again, Dad!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8056130082114264232?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-12-01T07_38_34-08_00.mp3' title='Magic Penny'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8056130082114264232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8056130082114264232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8056130082114264232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8056130082114264232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/12/magic-penny.html' title='Magic Penny'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3053704846308463694</id><published>2008-11-29T09:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T09:54:13.996-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trustworthy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Detecting the Truth</title><content type='html'>A jealous husband hired a private detective to check on the movements of his wife. The husband wanted more than a written report; he wanted video of his wife's activities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later, the detective returned with a video. They sat down together to watch it. Although the quality was less than professional, the man was able to clearly see his wife meeting another man! He saw the two of them laughing in the park. He saw them enjoying themselves at an outdoor cafe. He saw them dancing in a dimly lit nightclub. He saw the man and his wife participate in dozens of activities with utter glee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just can't believe this," the distraught husband said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The detective said, "What's not to believe? It's right up there on the screen!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband replied, "I can't believe that my wife could be so much fun!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3053704846308463694?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-29T07_49_47-08_00.mp3' title='Detecting the Truth'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3053704846308463694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3053704846308463694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3053704846308463694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3053704846308463694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/detecting-truth.html' title='Detecting the Truth'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2230289485903274215</id><published>2008-11-27T08:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T08:36:11.633-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Babies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairness'/><title type='text'>Lamaze Class</title><content type='html'>A couple just started their Lamaze class and they were given an activity&lt;br /&gt;requiring the husband to wear a bag of sand to give him an idea of what&lt;br /&gt;it feels like to be pregnant. The husband stood up and shrugged saying,&lt;br /&gt;"This doesn't feel so bad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The instructor then dropped a pen and asked the husband to pick it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want me to pick up the pen as if I were pregnant, the way my wife&lt;br /&gt;would do it?" the husband asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Exactly," replied the instructor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the delight of the other husbands, he turned to his wife and said,&lt;br /&gt;"Honey, pick up that pen for me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2230289485903274215?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-27T06_25_40-08_00.mp3' title='Lamaze Class'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2230289485903274215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2230289485903274215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2230289485903274215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2230289485903274215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/lamaze-class.html' title='Lamaze Class'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1214610447595462963</id><published>2008-11-26T09:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T09:04:23.625-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Mighty Tiger</title><content type='html'>There was this tiger that woke up one morning and just felt great. He&lt;br /&gt;felt so good, he went out and cornered a small monkey and roared at him,&lt;br /&gt;"WHO IS THE MIGHTIEST OF ALL THE JUNGLE ANIMALS?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the poor quaking little monkey replied, "You are of course, no one&lt;br /&gt;is mightier than you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little while later the tiger confronted a deer, and bellowed out, "WHO&lt;br /&gt;IS THE GREATEST AND STRONGEST OF ALL THE JUNGLE ANIMALS?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The deer shook so hard it could barely speak, but managed to stammer,&lt;br /&gt;"Oh great tiger, you are by far the mightiest animal in the jungle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tiger, being on a roll, swaggered up to an elephant who was quietly&lt;br /&gt;munching on some weeds, and roared at the top of his voice: "WHO IS THE&lt;br /&gt;MIGHTIEST OF ALL THE ANIMALS IN THE JUNGLE?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the elephant grabbed the tiger with his trunk, picked him up,&lt;br /&gt;slammed him down; picked him up again, and shook him until the tiger was&lt;br /&gt;just a blur of orange and black and finally threw him violently into a&lt;br /&gt;nearby tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tiger staggered to his feet and looked at the elephant and said,&lt;br /&gt;"Man, just because you don't know the answer, you don't have to get so mad."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1214610447595462963?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-26T06_55_02-08_00.mp3' title='The Mighty Tiger'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1214610447595462963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1214610447595462963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1214610447595462963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1214610447595462963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/mighty-tiger.html' title='The Mighty Tiger'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2526469949326776933</id><published>2008-11-23T13:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T13:38:12.301-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>A Near Accident</title><content type='html'>When the light changed, Maurice stepped off the curb and started to&lt;br /&gt;cross the street. He had to jump backward when an SUV almost hit him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman inside calmed the nine terrified and screaming kids she was transporting from the&lt;br /&gt;soccer match. Then she asked Maurice if he was okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lady!" he yelled. "Don't you know when to stop?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She yelled back, "They're not all mine!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2526469949326776933?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-23T11_34_30-08_00.mp3' title='A Near Accident'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2526469949326776933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2526469949326776933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2526469949326776933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2526469949326776933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/near-accident.html' title='A Near Accident'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5128765222690206966</id><published>2008-11-21T08:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T08:38:03.992-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Babies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>I Felt The Baby Move</title><content type='html'>First Child:&lt;br /&gt;I placed my hand on my wifes tummy every chance I could for two months&lt;br /&gt;waiting for that first time when I could feel the baby move. Hours upon&lt;br /&gt;hours I waited until that magic moment when, I felt this little&lt;br /&gt;movement. We called all of our relatives to tell them about the blessed&lt;br /&gt;experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second Child:&lt;br /&gt;When it first happened, my wife called me at the office. I quickly ran&lt;br /&gt;home and felt the baby move. We included the experience in all of our&lt;br /&gt;letters to our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third Child:&lt;br /&gt;She told me the baby moved. I told her I would check it out during the&lt;br /&gt;next commercial break. I missed out because her mother called on the&lt;br /&gt;telephone, so I went on watching Monday night football. By the end of&lt;br /&gt;the third quarter, I finally felt the baby move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth Child:&lt;br /&gt;We were in bed and I was trying to sleep. I turned to her and said,&lt;br /&gt;"Cant you make your tummy stay still? I'm trying to sleep." When it&lt;br /&gt;became clear that the baby would be jumping around for a while, we&lt;br /&gt;called the pizza man for a delivery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5128765222690206966?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-21T06_28_42-08_00.mp3' title='I Felt The Baby Move'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5128765222690206966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5128765222690206966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5128765222690206966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5128765222690206966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-felt-baby-move.html' title='I Felt The Baby Move'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4924773095492963413</id><published>2008-11-19T09:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T09:44:55.434-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Government'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Request for Farm Subsidy</title><content type='html'>Honorable Secretary of Agriculture&lt;br /&gt;Washington, D.C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir:&lt;br /&gt;My friend, Ed Peterson, over at Wells, Iowa, received a&lt;br /&gt;check for $1,000 from the government for not raising hogs.&lt;br /&gt;So, I want to go into the "not raising hogs" business next&lt;br /&gt;year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to know is, in your opinion, what is the best&lt;br /&gt;kind of farm not to raise hogs on, and what is the best&lt;br /&gt;breed of hogs not to raise? I want to be sure that I&lt;br /&gt;approach this endeavor in keeping with all governmental&lt;br /&gt;policies. I would prefer not to raise razorbacks, but if&lt;br /&gt;that is not a good breed not to raise, then I will just as&lt;br /&gt;gladly not raise Yorkshires or Durocs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I see it, the hardest part of this program will be in&lt;br /&gt;keeping an accurate inventory of how many hogs I haven't&lt;br /&gt;raised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend, Peterson, is very joyful about the future of the&lt;br /&gt;business. He has been raising hogs for twenty years or so,&lt;br /&gt;and the best he ever made on them was $422 in 1968, until&lt;br /&gt;this year when he got your check for $1,000 for not raising&lt;br /&gt;hogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I get $1,000 for not raising 50 hogs, will I get $2,000&lt;br /&gt;for not raising 100 hogs? I plan to operate on a small scale&lt;br /&gt;at first, holding myself down to about 4,000 hogs not&lt;br /&gt;raised, which will mean about $80,000 the first year. Then I&lt;br /&gt;can afford an airplane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now another thing, these hogs I will not raise will not eat&lt;br /&gt;100,000 bushels of corn. I understand that you also pay&lt;br /&gt;farmers for not raising corn and wheat. Will I qualify for&lt;br /&gt;payments for not raising wheat and corn not to feed the&lt;br /&gt;4,000 hogs I am not going to raise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I am considering the "not milking cows" business, so&lt;br /&gt;send me any information you have on that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In view of these circumstances, you understand that I will&lt;br /&gt;be totally unemployed and plan to file for unemployment and&lt;br /&gt;food stamps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be assured you will have my vote in the coming election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patriotically Yours,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Would you please notify me when you plan to distribute&lt;br /&gt;more free cheese.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4924773095492963413?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-19T07_33_51-08_00.mp3' title='Request for Farm Subsidy'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4924773095492963413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4924773095492963413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4924773095492963413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4924773095492963413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/request-for-farm-subsidy.html' title='Request for Farm Subsidy'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3061827602698436370</id><published>2008-11-17T10:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T10:33:04.711-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>Family Togetherness</title><content type='html'>A tourist from the Atlanta area was hiking through the mountains&lt;br /&gt;of North Georgia when he came upon the tiniest cabin he had ever seen in&lt;br /&gt;his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intrigued, he went up and knocked on the door. "Anybody home?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yep," came a kid's voice through the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is your father there?" asked the tourist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pa? Nope, he left afore Ma came in," said the kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, is your mother there?" persisted the tourist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ma? Nope, she left just afore I got here," said the kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But," protested the city slicker, "are you never together as a family?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure, but not here," said the kid through the door. "This is the outhouse!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3061827602698436370?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-17T08_20_54-08_00.mp3' title='Family Togetherness'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3061827602698436370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3061827602698436370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3061827602698436370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3061827602698436370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/family-togetherness.html' title='Family Togetherness'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-530521006606731895</id><published>2008-11-15T14:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T14:38:35.552-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One Liners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>A Small Gathering of Dog Quotes.</title><content type='html'>The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his tongue.&lt;br /&gt;-Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face.&lt;br /&gt;-Ben Williams&lt;br /&gt;Block quote end&lt;br /&gt;Block quote end&lt;br /&gt;Block quote end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.&lt;br /&gt;-Josh Billings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.&lt;br /&gt;-Andy Rooney&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogs love their friends &amp; bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love &amp; always, have to mix love &amp; hate.&lt;br /&gt;-Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog.&lt;br /&gt;-Franklin P. Jones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your dog is fat, you aren't getting enough exercise .&lt;br /&gt;-Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dog is worried about the economy because Alpo is up to $3.00 a can. That's almost $21.00 in dog money.&lt;br /&gt;-Joe Weinstein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea.&lt;br /&gt;-Robert A. Heinlein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you; that is the principal difference between a dog and a man.&lt;br /&gt;-Mark Twain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.&lt;br /&gt;-Roger Caras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then give him only two of them.&lt;br /&gt;-Phil P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-530521006606731895?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-15T11_56_15-08_00.mp3' title='A Small Gathering of Dog Quotes.'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/530521006606731895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=530521006606731895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/530521006606731895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/530521006606731895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/small-gathering-of-dog-quotes.html' title='A Small Gathering of Dog Quotes.'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-120555403829697699</id><published>2008-11-13T13:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:35:12.344-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Behavior'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>God the Parent</title><content type='html'>Whenever your kids are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought that even God's omnipotence did not extend to God's kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After creating heaven and earth, God created Adam and Eve. And the first thing He said to them was: "Don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't what?" Adam asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't eat the Forbidden Fruit." God replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Forbidden fruit? We got Forbidden Fruit? Hey, Eve..we got Forbidden Fruit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No way!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't eat that fruit!" said God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, why?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because I am your Creator and I said so!" said God, wondering why he hadn't stopped after making the elephants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later God saw the kids having an apple break and was angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Didn't I tell you not to eat that fruit?" the 'First Parent' asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh huh," Adam replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then why did you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno," Eve answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She started it!" Adam said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did not!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DID so!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DID NOT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having had it with the two of them, God's punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own...thus the pattern was set, and it has never&lt;br /&gt;changed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-120555403829697699?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-13T11_29_30-08_00.mp3' title='God the Parent'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/120555403829697699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=120555403829697699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/120555403829697699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/120555403829697699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/god-parent.html' title='God the Parent'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5087706626802974209</id><published>2008-11-11T08:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T08:37:00.497-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Dormitory Rules</title><content type='html'>On the first day of college, the Dean addressed the students, pointing out some of the rules. "The female dormitory will be out-of-bounds for all male students, and the male dormitory to the female students. Anybody caught breaking this rule will be fined $20 the first time." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continued, "Anybody caught breaking this rule the second time will be fined $60. Being caught a third time will incur a hefty fine of $180. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are there any questions?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this, a male student in the crowd inquired, "How much for a season pass?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5087706626802974209?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-11T06_31_46-08_00.mp3' title='Dormitory Rules'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5087706626802974209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5087706626802974209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5087706626802974209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5087706626802974209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/dormitory-rules.html' title='Dormitory Rules'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3749600709175584757</id><published>2008-11-09T21:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T21:27:02.499-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='News'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Biblical Headlines</title><content type='html'>If Biblical Headlines were written by today's liberal media...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Red Sea crossing:&lt;br /&gt;WETLANDS TRAMPLED IN LABOR STRIKE&lt;br /&gt;Pursuing Environmentalists Killed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On David vs. Goliath:&lt;br /&gt;HATE CRIME KILLS BELOVED CHAMPION&lt;br /&gt;Psychologist Questions Influence of Rock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Elijah on Mt. Carmel:&lt;br /&gt;FIRE SENDS RELIGIOUS RIGHT EXTREMIST INTO FRENZY&lt;br /&gt;400 Killed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the birth of Christ:&lt;br /&gt;HOTELS FULL, ANIMALS LEFT HOMELESS&lt;br /&gt;Animal Rights Activists Enraged by Insensitive Couple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On feeding the 5,000:&lt;br /&gt;PREACHER STEALS CHILD'S LUNCH&lt;br /&gt;Disciples Mystified Over Behavior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On healing the 10 lepers:&lt;br /&gt;LOCAL DOCTOR'S PRACTICE RUINED&lt;br /&gt;"Faith Healer" Causes Bankruptcy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On healing of the Gadarene demoniac:&lt;br /&gt;MADMAN'S FRIEND CAUSES STAMPEDE&lt;br /&gt;Local Farmer's Investment Lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On raising Lazarus from the dead:&lt;br /&gt;FUNDAMENTALIST PREACHER RAISES A STINK&lt;br /&gt;Will Reading to be Delayed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3749600709175584757?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-09T19_20_46-08_00.mp3' title='Biblical Headlines'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3749600709175584757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3749600709175584757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3749600709175584757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3749600709175584757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/biblical-headlines.html' title='Biblical Headlines'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5580948755189737583</id><published>2008-11-07T08:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T08:56:14.320-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misunderstandings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>The Wayside Chapel</title><content type='html'>An English schoolteacher was in Switzerland, and looking for a room to rent. She wanted to have a place to stay, for when she would start teaching in the fall. She asked the schoolmaster if he could recommend any place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took her to see several rooms, and when everything was settled she returned home to make final preparations for the move. When she arrived home, the thought suddenly occurred to her that she had not seen a Water Closet (toilet) around the place. She immediately wrote a note to the schoolmaster asking him if there was a "W.C." near the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The schoolmaster was a poor master of English so he asked the parish priest about the meaning of the letters "W.C." and the only solution they could come up with for the letters was "Wayside Chapel." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The schoolmaster then wrote the following note to the English lady seeking a "W.C." with her room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Madam: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take great comfort in informing you that a "W.C." is situated nine miles from the house in the corner of a beautiful grove of pine trees, surrounded by lovely grounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is capable of holding 229 people, and it is open on Sundays and Thursdays only. As there are a great many people expected during the summer months, I would suggest that you come early, although there is usually plenty of standing room. This is an unfortunate situation, particularly if you are in the habit of going regularly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will no doubt be glad to hear that a good many bring their lunch and make a day of it, while others, who can't afford to go by car, arrive just in time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would especially advise your ladyship to go on Thursdays when there is an organ accompanist. The acoustics are excellent and even the most delicate sounds can be heard everywhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may interest you to know that my daughter was married in the "W.C." and it was there that she met her husband. I can remember the rush there was for seats. There were ten people to a seat usually reserved for one, and it was wonderful to see the expression on their faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The newest attraction is a bell, donated by a wealthy resident of the district, which rings every time a person enters. A Bazaar is to be held to raise money for plush seats for all, since the people believe it is a long felt want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife is rather delicate so she can't go regularly: it is almost a year since she went last. Naturally it pains her not to be able to go more often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be delighted to reserve the best seat for you, if you wish, where you will be seen by all. For the children there is a special time so that they will not disturb the elders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoping to have been of some service to you, I remain,&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;The Schoolmaster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5580948755189737583?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-07T06_50_33-08_00.mp3' title='The Wayside Chapel'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5580948755189737583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5580948755189737583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5580948755189737583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5580948755189737583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/wayside-chapel.html' title='The Wayside Chapel'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7705138787295442493</id><published>2008-11-05T10:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T10:09:55.285-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Hamster Has To Go!</title><content type='html'>The children begged for a hamster, and after the usual fervent vows that&lt;br /&gt;they alone would care for it, they got one. They named it Danny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two months later, when Mom found herself responsible for cleaning and&lt;br /&gt;feeding the creature, she located a prospective new home for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children took the news of Danny's imminent departure quite well, though&lt;br /&gt;one of them remarked, "He's been around here a long time - we'll miss him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," Mom replied, "but he's too much work for one person, and since I'm&lt;br /&gt;that one person, I say he goes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another child offered, "Well, maybe if he wouldn't eat so much and wouldn't&lt;br /&gt;be so messy, we could keep him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Mom was firm. "It's time to take Danny to his new home now," she&lt;br /&gt;insisted. "Go and get his cage."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With one voice and in tearful outrage the children shouted, "Danny? We&lt;br /&gt;thought you said Daddy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7705138787295442493?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-05T08_05_13-08_00.mp3' title='The Hamster Has To Go!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7705138787295442493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7705138787295442493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7705138787295442493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7705138787295442493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/hamster-has-to-go.html' title='The Hamster Has To Go!'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7747398047935837043</id><published>2008-11-03T08:26:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T08:28:14.582-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mistakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>How Did The Coffee Taste?</title><content type='html'>A woman at our interactive advertising agency had recently returned from her&lt;br /&gt;maternity leave when she sent the following e-mail:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whoever used the milk in the small plastic container that was in the&lt;br /&gt;refrigerator yesterday, please do NOT own up to it. I would find it forever&lt;br /&gt;after difficult to meet your gaze across a cafeteria table whilst having a&lt;br /&gt;discussion about java applets or brand identity.&lt;br /&gt;Just be aware that that milk was EXPRESSLY for my son if you get my drift...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will label these things from now on, but if you found your coffee tasted&lt;br /&gt;just a little bit unusual this morning, you might think about calling your&lt;br /&gt;mom and telling her you love her."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7747398047935837043?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-03T06_23_01-08_00.mp3' title='How Did The Coffee Taste?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7747398047935837043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7747398047935837043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7747398047935837043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7747398047935837043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-did-coffee-taste.html' title='How Did The Coffee Taste?'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-9148976794355236272</id><published>2008-11-01T10:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T10:36:55.042-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arguments'/><title type='text'>Back On Speaking Terms</title><content type='html'>After my husband and I had a huge argument, we ended up not talking to each other for days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, on the third day, he asked where one of his shirts was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," I said, "so now you're speaking to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked confused, "What are you talking about?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Haven't you noticed I haven't spoken to you for three days?" I challenged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," he said, "I just thought we were getting along."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-9148976794355236272?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-11-01T08_30_21-07_00.mp3' title='Back On Speaking Terms'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/9148976794355236272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=9148976794355236272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/9148976794355236272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/9148976794355236272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/11/back-on-speaking-terms.html' title='Back On Speaking Terms'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1113203919839229132</id><published>2008-10-30T10:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T10:19:17.515-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sunday School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>The Children's Bible in a Nutshell</title><content type='html'>In the beginning, which occurred near the start, there was nothing but God, darkness, and some gas.  The Bible says, 'The Lord thy God is one, but I think He must be a lot older than that. Anyway, God said, 'Give me a light!' and someone did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Then God made the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     He split the Adam and made Eve.  Adam and Eve were naked, but they weren't embarrassed because mirrors hadn't been invented yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam and Eve disobeyed God by eating one bad apple, so they were driven from the Garden of Eden. Not sure what they were driven in though, because they didn't have cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam and Eve had a son, Cain, who hated his brother as long as he was Abel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty soon all of the early people died off, except for Methuselah, who lived to be like a million or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the next important people was Noah, who was a good guy, but one of his kids was kind of a Ham.  Noah built a large boat and put his family and some animals on it. He asked some other people to join him, but they said they would have to take a rain check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Noah came Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  Jacob was more famous than his brother, Esau, because Esau sold Jacob his birthmark in exchange for some pot roast.  Jacob had a son named Joseph who wore a really loud sports coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another important Bible guy is Moses, whose real name was Charlton Heston.  Moses led the Israel Lights out of Egypt and away from the evil Pharaoh after God sent ten plagues on Pharaoh's people.  These plagues included frogs, mice, lice, bowels, and no cable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God fed the Israel Lights every day with manicotti.  Then he gave them His Top Ten Commandments. These include: don't lie, cheat, smoke, dance, or covet your neighbor's stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah, I just thought of one more: &lt;br /&gt;Humor thy father and thy mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Moses' best helpers was Joshua who was the first Bible guy to use spies.  Joshua fought the battle of Geritol and the fence fell over on the town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Joshua came David.  He got to be king by killing a giant with a slingshot.  He had a son named Solomon who had about 300 wives and 500 porcupines.  My teacher says he was wise, but that doesn't sound very wise to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Solomon there were a bunch of major league prophets. One of these was Jonah, who was swallowed by a big whale and then barfed up on the shore.  There were also some minor league prophets, but I guess we don't have to worry about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the Old Testament came the New Testament.  Jesus is the star of The New.  He was born in  Bethlehem  in a barn.&lt;br /&gt;(I wish I had been born in a barn too, because my mom is always saying to me, 'Close the door! Were you born in a barn?' It would be nice to say, 'As a matter of fact, I was.')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During His life, Jesus had many arguments with sinners like the Pharisees and the Democrats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus also had twelve opossums. The worst one was Judas Asparagus.  Judas was so evil that they named a terrible vegetable after him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus was a great man.  He healed many leopards and even preached to some Germans on the Mount.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the Democrats and all those guys put Jesus on trial before Pontius the Pilot.  Pilot didn't stick up for Jesus.  He just washed his hands instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Jesus died for our sins, then came back to life again. He went up to Heaven but will be back at the end of the Aluminum.  His return is foretold in the book of Revolution.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1113203919839229132?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-10-30T08_13_35-07_00.mp3' title='The Children&apos;s Bible in a Nutshell'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1113203919839229132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1113203919839229132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1113203919839229132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1113203919839229132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/childrens-bible-in-nutshell.html' title='The Children&apos;s Bible in a Nutshell'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8664754237678902759</id><published>2008-10-28T20:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T20:51:21.981-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Airplanes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Military'/><title type='text'>Forced Landing</title><content type='html'>A flight instructor was sent out to help a trainee who had&lt;br /&gt;radioed that he was about to make a forced landing a few&lt;br /&gt;miles from the base. The instructor spotted the plane&lt;br /&gt;standing in a field small enough to present a real challenge&lt;br /&gt;to his professional reputation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not wanting to be outdone by his student, he decided to chance a landing&lt;br /&gt;there too. With determination, full flaps and engine just above the&lt;br /&gt;stall, he maneuvered into the field. Climbing out, he&lt;br /&gt;shouted angrily to the trainee, "Just how did you manage to&lt;br /&gt;get into such a small field?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I landed in the big field over there," the trainee&lt;br /&gt;explained, "but in order to leave room for you, I had the&lt;br /&gt;farmer tow me here."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8664754237678902759?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-10-28T18_46_44-07_00.mp3' title='Forced Landing'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8664754237678902759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8664754237678902759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8664754237678902759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8664754237678902759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/forced-landing.html' title='Forced Landing'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6809232078147072880</id><published>2008-10-26T21:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T21:11:10.582-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Cross-Eyed Dog</title><content type='html'>A man takes his Rottweiler to the vet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My dog is cross-eyed," the man says. "Is there anything you can do for him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," says the vet, "let's have a look at him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he picks the dog up and examines his eyes and ears and then checks&lt;br /&gt;his teeth. Finally, he says, "I'm going to have to put him down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" The man was astonished. "Why? Because he's cross-eyed?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the vet, "because he's really heavy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6809232078147072880?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-10-26T19_03_00-07_00.mp3' title='Cross-Eyed Dog'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6809232078147072880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6809232078147072880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6809232078147072880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6809232078147072880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/cross-eyed-dog.html' title='Cross-Eyed Dog'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-9181961259922208027</id><published>2008-10-24T09:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T09:25:46.871-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One Liners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Investments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Today's Stock Market Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Helium was up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Feathers were down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paper was stationary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fluorescent tubing was dimmed in light trading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Knives were up sharply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cows steered into a bull market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pencils lost a few points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hiking equipment was trailing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Elevators rose, while escalators continued their slow decline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Weights were up in heavy trading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Light switches were off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mining equipment hit rock bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Diapers remained unchanged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shipping lines stayed at an even keel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The market for raisins dried up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Coca Cola fizzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Caterpillar stock inched up a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sun peaked at midday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Balloon prices were inflated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Scott Tissue touched a new bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;And batteries exploded in an attempt to recharge the market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-9181961259922208027?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-10-24T07_15_50-07_00.mp3' title='Today&apos;s Stock Market Report'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/9181961259922208027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=9181961259922208027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/9181961259922208027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/9181961259922208027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/todays-stock-market-report.html' title='Today&apos;s Stock Market Report'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6406154560568991209</id><published>2008-10-22T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T09:36:17.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mistakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>A Dog Outing</title><content type='html'>The lady had taken her extraordinarily large Labrador dog on his periodic&lt;br /&gt;outing to the park. As someone who, by her own admission, knew everything&lt;br /&gt;worth knowing about dogs, she religiously took the dog on regular trips and&lt;br /&gt;varied neither route nor schedule. Because the animal was occasionally&lt;br /&gt;determined to have his own way, she&lt;br /&gt;wasn't concerned when he became very obstinate and refused to get into the&lt;br /&gt;car to go home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had to drag him into the car and out again when they&lt;br /&gt;arrived. Thereafter, the dog refused all commands and became unpleasant&lt;br /&gt;when her husband returned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bewildered, she left the dog to himself and pondered where her dog-knowledge&lt;br /&gt;might have come apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime later the phone rang and a strange voice began,&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know you but I'm calling from the park. Do you realize that your&lt;br /&gt;dog is waiting for you here? I got your number from the tag on his collar."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6406154560568991209?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-10-22T07_21_15-07_00.mp3' title='A Dog Outing'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6406154560568991209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6406154560568991209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6406154560568991209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6406154560568991209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/dog-outing.html' title='A Dog Outing'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5947046897279763170</id><published>2008-10-20T11:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T11:24:04.688-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blindness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Pink Suit Sale</title><content type='html'>When the store manager returned from lunch, he noticed his clerk's hand was&lt;br /&gt;bandaged, but before he could ask about the bandage, the clerk said he had&lt;br /&gt;some&lt;br /&gt;very good news for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Guess what, sir?" the clerk said. "I finally sold that terrible, ugly suit&lt;br /&gt;we've had so long!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you mean that repulsive pink-and-blue double-breasted thing?" the&lt;br /&gt;manager asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's the one!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's great!" the manager cried, "I thought we'd never get rid of that&lt;br /&gt;monstrosity! That had to be the ugliest suit we've ever had! But tell me.&lt;br /&gt;Why is&lt;br /&gt;your hand bandaged?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," the clerk replied, "after I sold the guy that suit, his guide dog bit&lt;br /&gt;me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5947046897279763170?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-10-20T09_18_17-07_00.mp3' title='Pink Suit Sale'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5947046897279763170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5947046897279763170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5947046897279763170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5947046897279763170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/pink-suit-sale.html' title='Pink Suit Sale'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3862906213024055368</id><published>2008-10-18T16:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T16:52:04.249-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cops'/><title type='text'>Bubba and Earl are Out Drinking</title><content type='html'>Two rednecks, Bubba and Earl, were driving down the road drinking a couple of bottles of Bud.The passenger, Bubba, said "Lookey thar up ahead, Earl, it's&lt;br /&gt;a poll-ice roadblock. We're gonna get busted fer drinkin' these here beers!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry, Bubba", Earl said. "We'll just pull over and finish drinkin' these beers, peel off the label and stick it on our foreheads, and throw the&lt;br /&gt;bottles under the seat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?," asked Bubba. "Just let me do the talkin', okay?", said Earl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They finished their beers, threw the empty bottles under the seat, and each put a label on their forehead. When they reached the roadblock, the sheriff&lt;br /&gt;said, "You boys been drinkin'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, sir", said Earl. "We're on the patch!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: The title links are now clickable to listen to the joke. Audio is powered by: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://robotcomic.podomatic.com"&gt;Robot Comic's Podomatic.com web page.&lt;/a&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3862906213024055368?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2008-10-18T14_44_07-07_00.mp3' title='Bubba and Earl are Out Drinking'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3862906213024055368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3862906213024055368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3862906213024055368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3862906213024055368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/bubba-and-earl-are-out-drinking.html' title='Bubba and Earl are Out Drinking'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4891920494282983000</id><published>2008-10-16T09:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T09:32:39.950-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Excerpts from the Human Resources Manual</title><content type='html'>1. Put 400 bricks in a closed room. &lt;br /&gt;2. Put your new hires in the room and close the door. &lt;br /&gt;3. Leave them alone and come back after six hours. &lt;br /&gt;4. Then analyze the situation. &lt;br /&gt;a. If they are counting the bricks, put them in the Accounting Department. &lt;br /&gt;b. If they are recounting them, put them in Auditing. &lt;br /&gt;c. If they have messed up the whole place with the bricks, put them in Engineering. &lt;br /&gt;d. If they are arranging the bricks in some strange order, put them in Planning. &lt;br /&gt;e. If they are throwing the bricks at each other, put them in Operations. &lt;br /&gt;f. If they are sleeping, put them in Security. &lt;br /&gt;g. If they have broken the bricks into pieces, put them in Information Technology. &lt;br /&gt;h. If they are sitting idle, put them in Human Resources. &lt;br /&gt;i. If they say they have tried different combinations and they are looking for more, yet not a brick has been moved, put them in Sales. &lt;br /&gt;j. If they have already left for the day, put them in Management. &lt;br /&gt;k. If they are staring out of the window, put them in Strategic Planning. &lt;br /&gt;l. If they are talking to each other, and not a single brick has been moved, congratulate them and put them in Top Management. &lt;br /&gt;m. Finally, if they have surrounded themselves with bricks in such a way that they can neither be seen nor heard from, put them in Congress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: The title links are now clickable to listen to the joke. Audio is powered by: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://robotcomic.podomatic.com"&gt;Robot Comic's Podomatic.com web page.&lt;/a&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4891920494282983000?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2007-09-27T15_18_30-07_00.mp3' title='Excerpts from the Human Resources Manual'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4891920494282983000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4891920494282983000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4891920494282983000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4891920494282983000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/excerpts-from-human-resources-manual.html' title='Excerpts from the Human Resources Manual'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-93190143474039032</id><published>2008-10-14T16:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T16:42:35.095-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Puns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>A Dog Named Mace</title><content type='html'>There was once a handyman who had a dog named Mace. Mace was a great dog except he had one weird habit: he liked to eat grass -- not just a little bit, but in quantities that would make a lawnmower blush. And nothing, it seemed, could cure him of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the handyman lost his wrench in the tall grass while he was working outside. He looked and looked, but it was nowhere to be found. As it was getting dark, he gave up for the night and decided to look the next morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he awoke, he went outside and saw that his dog had eaten all the grass in the area, around where he had been working, and his wrench now lay in plain sight, glinting in the sun. Going out to get his wrench, he called the dog over to him and said, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A grazing Mace, how sweet the hound, that saved a wrench for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: The title links are now clickable to listen to the joke. Audio is powered by: &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://robotcomic.podomatic.com"&gt;Robot Comic's Podomatic.com web page.&lt;/a&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-93190143474039032?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2007-09-26T14_33_25-07_00.mp3' title='A Dog Named Mace'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/93190143474039032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=93190143474039032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/93190143474039032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/93190143474039032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/dog-named-mace.html' title='A Dog Named Mace'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3972593139075372606</id><published>2008-10-12T12:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T12:42:46.471-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Excersize'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>A Week at the Gym</title><content type='html'>For my birthday this year my wife purchased me a week of private lessons at the local health club. Though still in great shape from when I was on the varsity chess team in high school, I decided it was a good idea to go ahead and try it. I called and made reservations with someone named Tanya, who said she is a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and athletic clothing model. My wife seemed very pleased with how enthusiastic I was to get started. They suggested I keep an "exercise diary" to chart my progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1. Started the morning at 6:00 AM. Tough to get up, but worth it when I arrived at the health club and Tanya was waiting for me. She's something of a goddess, with blonde hair and a dazzling white smile. She showed me the machines and took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She seemed a little alarmed that it was so high, but I think just standing next to her in that outfit of hers added about ten points. Enjoyed watching the aerobics class. Tanya was very encouraging as I did my sit ups, though my gut was already aching a little from holding it in the whole time I was talking to her. This is going to be GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2. Took a whole pot of coffee to get me out the door, but I made it. Tanya had me lie on my back and push this heavy iron bar up into the air. Then she put weights on it, for heaven's sake! Legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made it the full mile. Her smile made it all worth while. Muscles ALL feel GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3. The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the tooth brush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I am certain that I have developed a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer. I parked on top of a Volkswagen. Tanya was a little impatient with me and said my screaming was bothering the other club members. The treadmill hurt my chest so I did the stair "monster." Why would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by the invention of elevators? Tanya told me regular exercise would make me live longer. I can't imagine anything worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 4. Tanya was waiting for me with her vampire teeth in a full snarl. I can't help it if I was half an hour late, it took me that long just to tie my shoes. She wanted me to lift dumbbells. Not a chance, Tanya. The word "dumb" must be in there for a reason. I hid in the men's room until she sent Lars looking for me. As punishment she made me try the rowing machine. It sank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 5. I hate Tanya more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. If there was any part of my body not in extreme pain I would hit her with it. She thought it would be a good idea to work on my triceps. Well I have news for you Tanya - I don't have triceps. And if you don't want dents in the floor don't hand me any barbells. I refuse to accept responsibility for the damage, YOU went to sadist school, YOU are to blame. The treadmill flung me back into a science teacher, which hurt like crazy. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like a music teacher, or social studies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 6. Got Tanya's message on my answering machine, wondering where I am. I lacked the strength to use the TV remote so I watched eleven straight hours of the weather channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 7. Well, that's the week. Thank goodness that's over. Maybe next time my wife will give me something a little more fun, like a gift certificate for a root canal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3972593139075372606?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2007-09-25T11_54_00-07_00.mp3' title='A Week at the Gym'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3972593139075372606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3972593139075372606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3972593139075372606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3972593139075372606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/week-at-gym.html' title='A Week at the Gym'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8376918347815849189</id><published>2008-10-10T11:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T11:14:11.363-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Real Men in Heaven</title><content type='html'>When everyone from Earth was waiting to enter Paradise, God appeared and said, "I want the men to make two lines. One line for the men who were true heads of their household, and the other line for the men who were dominated by their women. I want all the women to report to St. Peter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon, the women were gone and there were two lines of men. The line of the men who were dominated by their wives was 100 miles long, and in the line of men who truly were heads of their household, there was only one man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God said, "You men should be ashamed of yourselves, I created you to be the head of your household! You have been disobedient and have not fulfilled your purpose! Of all of you, only one obeyed. Learn from him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God turned to the one man, "How did you manage to be the only one in this line?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man replied, "I don't know, my wife told me to stand here."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8376918347815849189?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2007-09-24T10_32_33-07_00.mp3' title='Real Men in Heaven'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8376918347815849189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8376918347815849189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8376918347815849189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8376918347815849189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/real-men-in-heaven.html' title='Real Men in Heaven'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-741914209808656723</id><published>2008-10-08T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T14:16:37.136-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cops'/><title type='text'>Arresting Goliath</title><content type='html'>A deputy police officer responded to a report of a barroom disturbance. &lt;br /&gt;The 'disturbance' turned out to be well over six feet tall and weighed &lt;br /&gt;almost 300 pounds. What's more, he boasted that he could whip the deputy &lt;br /&gt;and everyone else in the place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said the policeman, "I'll bet that you're also an escape artist - &lt;br /&gt;probably better than Houdini." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant nodded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I had some chains," the deputy continued, "you could show us how &lt;br /&gt;strong you really are. But all I've got is a set of handcuffs. Why don't &lt;br /&gt;you see just how quickly you can break out of them?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in the cuffs, the man puffed, pulled and jerked for four &lt;br /&gt;minutes. "I can't get out of these," the giant growled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure?" the deputy asked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fellow tried again. "Nope," he replied. "I can't do it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In that case," said the deputy, "you're under arrest."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-741914209808656723?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://robotcomic.podomatic.com/enclosure/2007-09-23T21_41_41-07_00.mp3' title='Arresting Goliath'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/741914209808656723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=741914209808656723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/741914209808656723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/741914209808656723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/arresting-goliath.html' title='Arresting Goliath'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5055555852277731637</id><published>2008-10-06T09:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T09:49:03.331-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>New Apartment</title><content type='html'>Bill and Sarah were Londoners and were blessed with seven healthy&lt;br /&gt;children. After many months of discussion, they finally decided to&lt;br /&gt;move to New York. It should have been a simple enough move, but when&lt;br /&gt;they arrived, they had great difficulty finding a suitable apartment&lt;br /&gt;to live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although many were big enough, the landlords always seemed to object&lt;br /&gt;to such a large family living there. If only Bill wasn't so honest&lt;br /&gt;about the size of his family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After several days of unsuccessful searching, Bill had an idea. He&lt;br /&gt;told Sarah to take the four younger children to visit the local&lt;br /&gt;cemetery while he went with the older three children to find an&lt;br /&gt;apartment. After looking for most of the morning, Bill found a place&lt;br /&gt;that was ideal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The landlord asked him, "How many children do you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill answered with a deep sigh, "Seven .. but four are with their&lt;br /&gt;dear mother in the cemetery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got the apartment!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5055555852277731637?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5055555852277731637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5055555852277731637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5055555852277731637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5055555852277731637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-apartment.html' title='New Apartment'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8986698096132103952</id><published>2008-10-02T14:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T14:10:18.415-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hunting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mistakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hospitals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Hunting The Mumba Snake</title><content type='html'>A guy was visiting his friend in the hospital who was "all torn up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, we were hunting the Mumba snake. It has yellow and black stripes,&lt;br /&gt;and likes to sun itself lying across a pathway in the jungle. You catch&lt;br /&gt;it by grabbing the tip of it's tail with one hand and quickly running&lt;br /&gt;your other hand up the length of it's body so you can grab it behind the&lt;br /&gt;neck."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go on," the friend urged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I stealthily sneaked up to the tail laying across the jungle&lt;br /&gt;path, grabbed it by the end and rapidly moved my other hand upward ...&lt;br /&gt;just as the procedure goes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So why are you so banged up?" the friend asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have you ever goosed a tiger?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8986698096132103952?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8986698096132103952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8986698096132103952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8986698096132103952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8986698096132103952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/10/hunting-mumba-snake.html' title='Hunting The Mumba Snake'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8456896107793457694</id><published>2008-09-30T09:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T09:50:29.364-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feuds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>Church Unity</title><content type='html'>There was a feud between the Preacher and the Choir Director of the&lt;br /&gt;Hicksville Southern Baptist Church . . . It seems the first hint of trouble&lt;br /&gt;came when the Preacher preached on 'Dedicating Yourselves to Service'&lt;br /&gt;and the Choir Director chose to sing: 'I Shall Not Be Moved'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to believe it was a coincidence, the Preacher put the incident behind&lt;br /&gt;him. The next Sunday he preached on 'Giving.' Afterwards, the choir&lt;br /&gt;squirmed as the director led them in the hymn: 'Jesus Paid It All'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time, the Preacher was losing his temper. Sunday morning attendance&lt;br /&gt;swelled as the tension between the two built. A large crowd showed up the&lt;br /&gt;next week to hear his sermon on 'The Sin of Gossiping.' Would you&lt;br /&gt;believe the Choir Director selected the song: 'I Love To Tell The Story'? There was&lt;br /&gt;no turning back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following Sunday the Preacher told the congregation that unless something&lt;br /&gt;changed, he was considering resignation. The entire church gasped when the&lt;br /&gt;Choir Director led them in: 'Why Not Tonight'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, no one was surprised when the Preacher resigned a week later,&lt;br /&gt;explaining that Jesus had led him there and Jesus was leading him away. The&lt;br /&gt;Choir Director could not resist: 'What A Friend We Have In Jesus.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8456896107793457694?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8456896107793457694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8456896107793457694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8456896107793457694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8456896107793457694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/church-unity.html' title='Church Unity'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7300583891583711665</id><published>2008-09-26T12:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T12:37:34.080-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One Liners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heat'/><title type='text'>You Know it's Been a Hot Summer When...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Hot water comes out of both taps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; You find out that a seatbelt buckle makes a pretty nice branding iron. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; The trees are whistling for the dogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; You find out that you can get sunburned through your car window. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; The birds need to use potholders to pull worms out of the ground. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; You burn your hand opening the car door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; The temperature drops below 95 and you put on a sweater. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; You can make instant sun tea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Shade determines the best parking space, not distance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Farmers feed their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard &lt;br /&gt;boiled eggs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; When you step outside at 7:30 a.m., you break into a sweat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Potatoes cook underground. This is convenient because all you have to do &lt;br /&gt;is pull one out and add salt, pepper and butter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; You discover that asphalt has a liquid state. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; You realize that it only takes two fingers to steer your car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7300583891583711665?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7300583891583711665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7300583891583711665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7300583891583711665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7300583891583711665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-know-its-been-hot-summer-when.html' title='You Know it&apos;s Been a Hot Summer When...'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6976552446108145328</id><published>2008-09-24T10:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T11:28:23.255-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowboys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Cowboy Poetry</title><content type='html'>Jake, the rancher, went one day to fix a distant fence.  &lt;br /&gt;The wind was cold and gusty and the clouds rolled gray and dense.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; As he pounded the last staples in and gathered tools to go,  &lt;br /&gt;The temperature had fallen, the wind and snow began to blow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When he finally reached his pickup, he felt a heavy heart.  &lt;br /&gt;From the sound of that ignition, he knew it wouldn't start.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So Jake did what most of us would do if we had been there.  &lt;br /&gt;He humbly bowed his balding head and sent aloft a prayer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As he turned the key for the last time, he softly cursed his luck.  &lt;br /&gt;They found him three days later, frozen stiff in that old truck.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Now Jake had been around in life and done his share of roaming.  &lt;br /&gt;But when he saw Heaven, he was shocked -- it looked just like Wyoming !  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Of all the saints in Heaven, his favorite was St. Peter.  &lt;br /&gt;(Now, this line ain't needed  but it helps with rhyme and meter)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So they set and talked a minute or two, or maybe it was three.  &lt;br /&gt;Nobody was keeping' score -- in Heaven time is free.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"I've always heard," Jake said to Pete, "that God will answer prayer,  &lt;br /&gt;But one time I asked for help, well, he just plain wasn't there."   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Does God answer prayers of some, and ignore the prayers of others?  &lt;br /&gt;That don't seem exactly square -- I know all men are brothers."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Or does he randomly reply, without good rhyme or reason?  &lt;br /&gt;Maybe, it's the time of day, the weather or the season."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Now I ain't trying to act smart, it's just the way I feel.  &lt;br /&gt;And I was wondering', could you tell me -- what the heck's the deal?!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Peter listened very patiently and when Jake was done,  &lt;br /&gt;There were smiles of recognition, and he said, "So, you're the one!!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"That day your truck, it wouldn't start, and you sent your prayer a flying,  &lt;br /&gt;You gave us all a real bad time, with hundreds of us trying."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"A thousand angels rushed, to check the status of your file,  &lt;br /&gt;But you know, Jake, we hadn't heard from you in quite a long while."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"And though all prayers are answered, and God ain't got no quota,  &lt;br /&gt;He didn't recognize your voice, and started a truck in Minnesota "  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;BETTER KEEP IN TOUCH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6976552446108145328?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6976552446108145328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6976552446108145328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6976552446108145328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6976552446108145328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/cowboy-poetry.html' title='Cowboy Poetry'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5782644007925584525</id><published>2008-09-22T10:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T10:58:43.690-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Super Dave</title><content type='html'>A man walks out into the street and manages to get a taxi just going by. &lt;br /&gt;He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just &lt;br /&gt;like Dave." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dave Bronson. There's a guy who did everything right. Like my coming &lt;br /&gt;along when you needed a cab. It would have happened like that to Dave &lt;br /&gt;every single time." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There are always a few clouds over everybody." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not Dave. He was a terrific athlete. He could have gone on the pro tour &lt;br /&gt;in tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone &lt;br /&gt;and danced like a Broadway star." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He was something, huh?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He had a memory like a trap. Could remember everybody's birthday. He &lt;br /&gt;knew all about wine, which fork to eat with. He could fix anything. Not &lt;br /&gt;like me. I change a fuse, and the whole neighborhood blacks out." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No wonder you remember him." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I never actually met Dave." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then how do you know so much about him?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I married his widow."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5782644007925584525?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5782644007925584525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5782644007925584525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5782644007925584525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5782644007925584525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/super-dave.html' title='Super Dave'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8233444830988260968</id><published>2008-09-20T08:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T09:01:21.607-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One Liners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Cats and Dogs - For Cat Lovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats aren't clean, they're just covered with cat spit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats don't hunt seals. They would if they knew what they were and where to find them. But they don't, so that's all right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats instinctively know the exact moment their owners will wake up. Then they wake them 10 minutes sooner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats know what we feel. They don't care, but they know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Dogs have owners. Cats have staff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Dogs believe they are human. Cats believe they are God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; I had to get rid of my wife. The cat was allergic! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8233444830988260968?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8233444830988260968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8233444830988260968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8233444830988260968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8233444830988260968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/cats-and-dogs-for-cat-lovers.html' title='Cats and Dogs - For Cat Lovers'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8091184992111073744</id><published>2008-09-18T09:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T09:53:25.794-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Indians'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><title type='text'>Getting the Votes - Truth In Politics</title><content type='html'>It was election time and a politician decided to go out to the local reservation and try to get the Native American vote. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were all assembled in the &lt;br /&gt;Council Hall to hear the speech. The politician had worked up to his finale, and the crowd was getting more and more excited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I promise better education &lt;br /&gt;opportunities for Native Americans!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd went wild, shouting "Hoya! Hoya!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The politician was a bit puzzled by the native word, but was encouraged by their enthusiasm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I promise gambling reforms to allow a Casino on the Reservation!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hoya! Hoya!" cried the crowd, stomping their feet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I promise more social reforms and job opportunities for Native Americans!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd reached a frenzied pitch shouting "Hoya! Hoya! Hoya!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the speech, the Politician was touring the Reservation, and saw a tremendous herd of cattle. &lt;br /&gt;Since he was raised on a ranch, and knew a bit about cattle, he asked the Chief if he could get closer to take a look at the cattle. "Sure," the Chief said, &lt;br /&gt;"but be careful not to step in the hoya."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8091184992111073744?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8091184992111073744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8091184992111073744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8091184992111073744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8091184992111073744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/getting-votes-truth-in-politics.html' title='Getting the Votes - Truth In Politics'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1366369684448292147</id><published>2008-09-16T09:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T09:19:04.100-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nerds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Top ten signs your co-worker is a hacker</title><content type='html'>10. You ticked him off once and your next phone bill was $20,000. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. He's won the Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes 3 years running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. When asked for his phone number, he gives it in hex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Seems strangely calm whenever the office LAN goes down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Somehow gets HBO on his PC at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Mumbled, "Oh, puh-leas," 95 times during the movie, "The Net." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Massive RRSP contribution made in half-cent increments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Video dating profile lists "public-key encryption" among turn-ons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. When his computer starts up, you hear, "Good Morning, Mr. President." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You hear him murmur, "Let's see you use that Visa card now, fool."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1366369684448292147?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1366369684448292147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1366369684448292147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1366369684448292147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1366369684448292147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/top-ten-signs-your-co-worker-is-hacker.html' title='Top ten signs your co-worker is a hacker'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5611907049972281768</id><published>2008-09-14T11:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T11:48:39.395-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Traffic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cops'/><title type='text'>Real Rules of Driving</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Never pass on the left when you can pass on the right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Speed limits are arbitrary figures, given only as suggestions, and are apparently not enforceable during rush hour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Just because you're in the left lane and have no room to speed up or move over doesn't mean that a driver flashing his high beams behind you doesn't think &lt;br /&gt;he can go faster in your spot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Always slow down and rubberneck when you see an accident, or even if someone is just changing a tire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Throwing litter on the roads adds color to the landscape and gives Adopt-a-Highway crews something to clean up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is assumed that state police cars passing at high speed may be followed in the event you need to make up a few minutes on your way to work, or the &lt;br /&gt;beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Remember that the goal of every good driver is to get there first, by whatever means necessary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Real female drivers can put on pantyhose, apply eye makeup, and balance the checkbook at seventy-five miles per hour during a snowstorm in bumper-to-bumper &lt;br /&gt;traffic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5611907049972281768?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5611907049972281768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5611907049972281768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5611907049972281768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5611907049972281768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/real-rules-of-driving.html' title='Real Rules of Driving'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7369514539095984577</id><published>2008-09-12T10:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T10:53:42.740-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Mail-Order Models</title><content type='html'>Two rednecks were looking at a Sears catalog and admiring the models. One says to the other, "Have you seen the beautiful girls in this catalog?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one replies, "Yes, they are very beautiful. And look at the price!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one says, with wide eyes, "Wow, they aren't very expensive. At this price, I'm buying one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one smiles and pats him on the back. "Good idea! Order one and if she's as beautiful as she is in the catalog, I will get one too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three weeks later, the youngest redneck asks his friend, "Did you ever receive the girl you ordered from the Sears catalog?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second redneck replies, "No, but it shouldn't be long now. I got her clothes yesterday!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7369514539095984577?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7369514539095984577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7369514539095984577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7369514539095984577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7369514539095984577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/mail-order-models.html' title='Mail-Order Models'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4729316715914485128</id><published>2008-09-10T10:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T11:05:21.873-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weddings'/><title type='text'>Mother Of The Bride</title><content type='html'>The wedding day was fast approaching. Everything was ready, and nothing could dampen Jennifer's excitement, not even her parents' nasty divorce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother, Sheila, finally found the PERFECT dress to wear and would be the best-dressed mother-of-the-bride EVER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later, Jennifer was horrified to learn her new, young stepmother, Barbie, had purchased the same dress. She asked her to exchange the dress, but Barbie refused saying, "Absolutely not! I'm going to wear this dress; I'll look like a million in it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer told her mother, who graciously replied, "Never mind, dear, I'll get another dress. After all, it's your special day, not hers or mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks later, another dress was finally found. When they stopped for lunch, Jennifer asked her mother, "What are you going to do with the first dress? You don't have any place to wear it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheila grinned and replied, "Of course I do, dear. I'm wearing it to the rehearsal dinner."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4729316715914485128?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4729316715914485128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4729316715914485128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4729316715914485128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4729316715914485128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/mother-of-bride.html' title='Mother Of The Bride'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2140667781004161881</id><published>2008-09-08T09:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T09:13:37.934-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Critical Thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Problem Solving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intelligence'/><title type='text'>What Time is It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man is strolling past the mental hospital and suddenly remembers an &lt;br /&gt;important meeting. &lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, his watch has stopped, and he cannot tell if he is late or &lt;br /&gt;not. Then, he notices a patient similarly strolling about within the &lt;br /&gt;hospital &lt;br /&gt;fence. &lt;br /&gt;Calling out to the patient, the man says, "Pardon me, sir, but do you have &lt;br /&gt;the time?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patient calls back, "One moment!" and throws himself upon the ground, &lt;br /&gt;pulling out a short stick as he does. He pushes the stick into the ground, &lt;br /&gt;and, &lt;br /&gt;pulling out a carpenter's level, assures himself that the stick is vertical. &lt;br /&gt;With a compass, the patient locates north and with a steel ruler, measures &lt;br /&gt;the precise length of the shadow cast by the stick. &lt;br /&gt;Withdrawing a slide rule from his pocket, the patient calculates rapidly, &lt;br /&gt;then swiftly packs up all his tools and turns back to the pedestrian, &lt;br /&gt;saying, &lt;br /&gt;"It is now precisely 3:29 pm, provided today is August 16th, which I believe &lt;br /&gt;it is." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man can't help but be impressed by this demonstration, and sets his &lt;br /&gt;watch accordingly. &lt;br /&gt;Before he leaves, he says to the patient, "That was really quite remarkable, &lt;br /&gt;but tell me, what do you do on a cloudy day, or at night, when the stick &lt;br /&gt;casts &lt;br /&gt;no shadow?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patient holds up his wrist and says, "I suppose I'd just &lt;br /&gt;Problem Solving, Critical Thinking, Intelligencelook at my watch."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2140667781004161881?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2140667781004161881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2140667781004161881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2140667781004161881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2140667781004161881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-time-is-it.html' title='What Time is It?'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3074078455309801369</id><published>2008-09-06T08:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T08:24:13.421-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nerds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Songs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geeks'/><title type='text'>100 buckets of bits</title><content type='html'>As the Robot Comic, I endorse this song, and sing it frequently. You can sing it too, if you are geeky enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--rc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;center&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100 Buckets of Bits on the bus &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100 buckets of bits &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take one down, short it to ground &lt;br.&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FF buckets of bits on the bus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FF buckets of bits on the bus &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FF buckets of bits &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take one down, short it to ground &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FE buckets of bits on the bus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FE buckets of bits on the bus &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FE buckets of bits &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take one down, short it to ground &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FD buckets of bits on the bus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Interruption!&lt;/b&gt; Note from Keith. That's enough Mr. Robot Comic. We want people to laugh, not get bored to death by counting backwards in hex. Just keep singing to yourself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--kh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3074078455309801369?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3074078455309801369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3074078455309801369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3074078455309801369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3074078455309801369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/100-buckets-of-bits.html' title='100 buckets of bits'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2134390267836970788</id><published>2008-09-04T09:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T09:46:17.374-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Contests'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>Someone Has Way Too Much Time On Their Hands</title><content type='html'>M&amp;M Genetics &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I get a package of plain M&amp;M's, I make it my duty to continue &lt;br /&gt;the strength and robustness of the candy as a &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;species. To this end, &lt;br /&gt;I hold M&amp;M duels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, &lt;br /&gt;squeezing them together until one of them &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cracks and splinters. That &lt;br /&gt;is the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner &lt;br /&gt;gets to go another &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;round. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found that, in general, the brown and red MMs are tougher, &lt;br /&gt;and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have &lt;br /&gt;hypothesized that the blue MMs as a race cannot survive long in the &lt;br /&gt;intense theatre of competition that is &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the modern candy and &lt;br /&gt;snack-food world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is &lt;br /&gt;misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;invariably &lt;br /&gt;this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the &lt;br /&gt;candy extra strength. In this way, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the species continues to adapt to &lt;br /&gt;its environment. &lt;br /&gt;When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&amp;M, the &lt;br /&gt;strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one &lt;br /&gt;as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;send it to: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M&amp;M Mars &lt;br /&gt;A Division of Mars, Inc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;along with a 3x5 card reading, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please use this M&amp;M for breeding purposes." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a &lt;br /&gt;free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&amp;Ms. I consider this &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"grant money." I &lt;br /&gt;have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of &lt;br /&gt;hundreds, we will discover the &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True Champion. &lt;br /&gt;There can be only one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2134390267836970788?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2134390267836970788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2134390267836970788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2134390267836970788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2134390267836970788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/someone-has-way-too-much-time-on-their.html' title='Someone Has Way Too Much Time On Their Hands'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2319843988473220821</id><published>2008-09-02T12:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T12:18:36.176-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Traffic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intelligence'/><title type='text'>Some Quickies from the UK</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;From British Newspapers &lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following may or may not be truthful. It's still all in fun &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commenting on a complaint from a Mr. Arthur Purdey about a large gas &lt;br /&gt;bill, a spokesman for North West Gas said, "We agree it was rather &lt;br /&gt;high for the time of year. It's possible Mr. Purdey has been charged &lt;br /&gt;for the gas used up during the explosion that destroyed his &lt;br /&gt;house." (The Daily Telegraph) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irish police are being handicapped in a search for a stolen van &lt;br /&gt;because they cannot issue a description. It's a Special Branch &lt;br /&gt;vehicle and they don't want the public to know what it looks like. &lt;br /&gt;(The Guardian) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the height of the gale, the harbor master radioed a coast guard &lt;br /&gt;(member) and asked him to estimate the wind speed. He replied he was &lt;br /&gt;sorry, but he didn't have a gauge. However, if it was any help, the &lt;br /&gt;wind had just blown his Land Rover over the cliff. (Aberdeen Evening Express) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A list of actual announcements that London Tube train drivers have &lt;br /&gt;made to their passengers: &lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ladies and Gentlemen, I do apologize for the delay to your service. &lt;br /&gt;I know you're all dying to get home, unless, of course, you happen to &lt;br /&gt;be married to my ex-wife, in which case you'll want to cross over to &lt;br /&gt;the Westbound and go in the opposite direction." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your delay this evening is caused by the line controller suffering &lt;br /&gt;from E &amp; B syndrome: not knowing his elbow from his backside. I'll &lt;br /&gt;let you know any further information as soon as I'm given any." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want the good news first or the bad news? The good news is &lt;br /&gt;that last Friday was my birthday and I hit the town and had a great &lt;br /&gt;time. The bad news is that there is a points failure somewhere &lt;br /&gt;between Stratford and East Ham, which means we probably won't reach &lt;br /&gt;our destination." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are now traveling through Baker Street ... As you can see, Baker &lt;br /&gt;Street is closed. It would have been nice if they had actually told &lt;br /&gt;me, so I could tell you earlier, but no, they don't think about &lt;br /&gt;things like that". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beggars are operating on this train. Please do NOT encourage these &lt;br /&gt;professional beggars. If you have any spare change, please give it to &lt;br /&gt;a registered charity. Failing that, give it to me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During an extremely hot rush hour on the Central Line, the driver &lt;br /&gt;announced in a West Indian drawl: "Step right this way for the sauna, &lt;br /&gt;ladies and gentleman... Unfortunately, towels are not provided." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let the passengers off the train FIRST!" (...pause). Oh go on then, &lt;br /&gt;stuff yourselves in like sardines, and see if I care - I'm going home...." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please allow the doors to close. Try not to confuse this with &lt;br /&gt;'Please hold the doors open.' The two are distinct and separate instructions."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2319843988473220821?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2319843988473220821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2319843988473220821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2319843988473220821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2319843988473220821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/09/some-quickies-from-uk.html' title='Some Quickies from the UK'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6609297770585490550</id><published>2008-08-31T11:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T11:57:56.159-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nurses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctors'/><title type='text'>Reasons to Become a Nurse</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Pays better than fast food, though the hours aren't as good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Fashionable shoes &amp; sexy white uniforms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Needles: It's better to give than to receive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Reassure your patients that all bleeding stops....eventually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Expose yourself to rare, exotic, &amp; exciting new diseases. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Interesting aromas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Do enough charting to navigate around the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Celebrate the holidays with all your friends.....at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Take comfort that most of your patients survive no matter what you do to &lt;br /&gt;them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Courteous &amp; infallible doctors who always leave clear orders in perfectly &lt;br /&gt;legible handwriting. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6609297770585490550?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6609297770585490550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6609297770585490550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6609297770585490550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6609297770585490550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/reasons-to-become-nurse.html' title='Reasons to Become a Nurse'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5039012408158709916</id><published>2008-08-29T09:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T09:02:44.716-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>Politically Correct NFL</title><content type='html'>It's not just those of Native American descent who feel infringed upon by using their names as sports mascots. The National Football League recently announced a new era. From now &lt;br /&gt;on, no offensive team names will be permitted. While the owners of &lt;br /&gt;the teams rush to change uniforms and such, the National Football &lt;br /&gt;League announced, yesterday, its name changes and schedules for the &lt;br /&gt;upcoming season as follows: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Washington Native Americans will host the New York Very Tall &lt;br /&gt;People on opening day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other key games include &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the Dallas Western-Style Cattle Laborers hosting the &lt;br /&gt;St. Louis Wild Endangered Species, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the Minnesota PlunderingNorsemen taking on the Green Bay Meat Industry Workers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Week 2, there are several key matchups, highlighted by the &lt;br /&gt;showdown between the San Francisco Precious Metal Enthusiasts and the &lt;br /&gt;New Orleans Pretty Good People. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Atlanta Birds of Prey will play host to the Philadelphia Birds of &lt;br /&gt;Prey, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while the Seattle Birds of Prey will visit the Phoenix Red Male Finches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Monday night game will pit the Miami Pelagic Percoid Food Fishes &lt;br /&gt;against the Denver Untamed Beasts of Burden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cincinnati Large Bangladeshi Carnivorous Mammals will travel to &lt;br /&gt;Tampa Bay for a clash with the West Indies Free Booters later in Week 9. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Detroit Large Carnivorous Cats will play the Chicago Large &lt;br /&gt;Mountain Mammals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week 9 also features the Indianapolis Young Male Horses at the New &lt;br /&gt;England Zealous Lovers of Country. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned and don't miss any big league action!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5039012408158709916?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5039012408158709916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5039012408158709916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5039012408158709916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5039012408158709916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/politically-correct-nfl.html' title='Politically Correct NFL'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7744750829102850587</id><published>2008-08-27T09:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T09:16:45.383-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Bosses Night</title><content type='html'>At an annual Bosses Night dinner in Helena, Montana, where legal &lt;br /&gt;secretaries sponsored their lawyer bosses, it was time to announce &lt;br /&gt;the Boss of the Year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The master of ceremonies began: "First of all, our winner is a &lt;br /&gt;graduate of the University of Montana. So that already eliminates &lt;br /&gt;some of you as candidates." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Emcee continued: &lt;br /&gt;"Our winner also is a partner in a downtown Helena law firm. That &lt;br /&gt;eliminates some more of you. &lt;br /&gt;After a dramatic pause: "Our nominee is honest, upright, dedicated..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A voice from the audience cut in: "Well, there go the rest of us!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7744750829102850587?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7744750829102850587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7744750829102850587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7744750829102850587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7744750829102850587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/bosses-night.html' title='Bosses Night'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-604074444713536593</id><published>2008-08-25T10:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T10:24:35.622-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Who Wears the Pants?</title><content type='html'>Doug had always been teased by his friends that his wife was more &lt;br /&gt;successful than he was. Some even went so far as to insinuate that he &lt;br /&gt;was henpecked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doug had a sense of humor and always laughed it off. One day, one of &lt;br /&gt;his friends asked the tiresome question again, "Who wears the pants in &lt;br /&gt;your family?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I do," Doug answered. Then, after a pause, he added, "I also wash &lt;br /&gt;and iron them."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-604074444713536593?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/604074444713536593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=604074444713536593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/604074444713536593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/604074444713536593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/who-wears-pants.html' title='Who Wears the Pants?'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6605679494535271990</id><published>2008-08-23T08:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T08:12:20.927-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Dead Husbands</title><content type='html'>A woman announces to her friend that she is getting married for the fourth time. &lt;br /&gt;"How wonderful! But I hope you don't mind me asking what happened to your first husband?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He ate poisonous mushrooms and died." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, how tragic! What about your second husband?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He ate poisonous mushrooms, too, and died." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, how terrible! I'm almost afraid to ask you about your third husband." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He died of a broken neck." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A broken neck?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He wouldn't eat the mushrooms."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6605679494535271990?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6605679494535271990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6605679494535271990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6605679494535271990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6605679494535271990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/dead-husbands.html' title='Dead Husbands'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2433458056422569464</id><published>2008-08-21T09:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T09:08:24.662-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One-liners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>40 Things You'd love to Say</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt; I can see your point, but I still think you're full of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; How about never? Is never good for you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I see you've set aside this special time to publicly humiliate &lt;br /&gt;yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to see it my &lt;br /&gt;way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Who lit the fuse on your tampon? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I'm out of my mind at the moment, but feel free to leave a message. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I don't work here - I'm a consultant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It sounds like English, but I don't understand a single word you're saying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Ahhh. I see the screw-up fairy has visited us again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I like you. You remind me of myself when I was young and stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I have plenty of talent and vision - I just don't give a hoot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of &lt;br /&gt;view. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; What am I? Flypaper for freaks? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of karma to burn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; And your crybaby whiny opinion would be? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Do I look like a people person to you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Sarcasm is just one more service we offer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; If I throw a stick, will you leave? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Errors have been made. Others will be blamed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Oh, I get it. Like humor. Only different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; A cubicle is just a padded cell without the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Can I trade this job for what's behind door number 1? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Too many freaks, not enough circuses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Nice perfume, but must you marinate in it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Chaos, panic and disorder - my work here is finally done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; How do I set a laser printer to kill? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I thought I wanted a career; turns out I just wanted a salary &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; I'll try being nicer if you try being smarter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Wait a minute - I'm just trying to imagine you with a personality &lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; A personal life? How do you download one of those? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2433458056422569464?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2433458056422569464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2433458056422569464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2433458056422569464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2433458056422569464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/40-things-youd-love-to-say.html' title='40 Things You&apos;d love to Say'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2564880383064849739</id><published>2008-08-19T09:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T09:14:20.113-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Finance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Please God...</title><content type='html'>A guy named Tony finds himself in dire circumstances. His business has&lt;br /&gt;gone bust and he's in serious financial trouble. He's so desperate that&lt;br /&gt;he decides to ask God for help. He begins to pray...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, please help me. I've lost my business and if I don't get some&lt;br /&gt;money, I'm going to lose my house as well. Please let me win the lotto."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lotto night comes and somebody else wins it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony again prays...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, please let me win the lotto! I've lost my business, my house and&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to lose my car as well."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lotto night comes and Tony still has no luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, he prays...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My God, why have you forsaken me?? I've lost my business, my house, and&lt;br /&gt;my car. My wife and children are starving. I don't often ask you for&lt;br /&gt;help and I have always been a good servant to you. PLEASE just let me&lt;br /&gt;win the lotto this one time so I can get my life back in order."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly there is a blinding flash of light as the heavens open and Tony&lt;br /&gt;is confronted by the voice of God Himself: "Tony, meet me halfway on&lt;br /&gt;this. BUY A TICKET!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2564880383064849739?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2564880383064849739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2564880383064849739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2564880383064849739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2564880383064849739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/please-god.html' title='Please God...'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6683022097690981472</id><published>2008-08-17T12:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T12:32:37.854-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Farmers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Chicken Farmer</title><content type='html'>Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to be a farmer? I decided to start up a chicken farm, so I go to the farm supply store and buy a hundred chickens. I figured that would be enough to get up and running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month later I return to the dealer to get another hundred chickens&lt;br /&gt;because the first lot had died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another month passes and there I am, back at the farm supply store for another hundred chickens. I figure that maybe I should ask the salesman for some help with my situation. I'm obviously doing something wrong, but I can't quite figure it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I approach the salesman to ask him about my problem when he says, "you must be doing great with all these chickens you keep buying." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," I begin, "That's just it. I'm not doing so great. I have to keep buying more because they keep dying off. Do you have any advice for me?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The salesman replies, "I might be able to help. Tell me what you are doing, and I'll see where you might want to make some changes." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To startwith, I do think I know where I'm going wrong" I tell the dealer, "Now,Just tell me what you think. I think I'm just planting them too deep."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6683022097690981472?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6683022097690981472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6683022097690981472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6683022097690981472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6683022097690981472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/chicken-farmer.html' title='Chicken Farmer'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6679645926944689542</id><published>2008-08-15T10:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T10:33:39.018-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teenagers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Cats and Teenagers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW! Learn how teenagers and cats are EXACTLY ALIKE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Neither teenagers nor cats turn their heads when you call them by name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; No matter what you do for them, it is not enough. Indeed, all humane&lt;br /&gt;efforts are barely adequate to compensate for the privilege of waiting&lt;br /&gt;on them hand and foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; You rarely see a cat walking outside of the house with an adult human&lt;br /&gt;being, and it can be safely said that no teenager in his or her right&lt;br /&gt;mind wants to be seen in public with his or her parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Even if you tell jokes as well as Jay Leno, neither your cat nor your&lt;br /&gt;teen will ever crack a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; No cat or teenager shares your taste in music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats and teenagers can lie on the living-room sofa for hours on end&lt;br /&gt;without moving, barely breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats have nine lives. Teenagers carry on as if they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats and teenagers yawn in exactly the same manner, communicating&lt;br /&gt;that ultimate human ecstasy: a sense of complete and utter boredom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats and teenagers do not improve anyone's furniture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Cats that are free to roam outside sometimes have been known to&lt;br /&gt;return in the middle of the night to deposit a dead animal in your&lt;br /&gt;bedroom. Teenagers are not above that sort of behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, if you must raise teenagers, the best sources of advice are not&lt;br /&gt;other parents, but veterinarians. It is also a good idea to keep a&lt;br /&gt;guidebook on cats at hand at all times. And remember, above all else,&lt;br /&gt;put out the food and do not make any sudden moves in their direction.&lt;br /&gt;When they make up their minds, they will finally come to you for some&lt;br /&gt;affection and comfort, and it will be a triumphant moment for all concerned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6679645926944689542?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6679645926944689542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6679645926944689542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6679645926944689542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6679645926944689542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/cats-and-teenagers.html' title='Cats and Teenagers'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3964847107118760365</id><published>2008-08-13T10:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T10:16:16.961-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chores'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>What's For Dinner?</title><content type='html'>I was watching TV as my wife was out cutting the grass during&lt;br /&gt;the hot summer. I finally worked up the energy to go out and ask the wife what was for supper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, she was quite irritated about me sitting in the air&lt;br /&gt;conditioned house all day while she did all the work, so she scolded&lt;br /&gt;me. Can you believe that? She actually scolded me. "I can't believe you're asking me about supper right now! Imagine&lt;br /&gt;I'm out of town, go inside and figure dinner out yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did. I went back in the house and fixed myself a big steak, with&lt;br /&gt;potatoes, garlic bread and a tall glass of iced tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife finally walked in about the time I was finishing up and asked&lt;br /&gt;"You fixed something to eat? So where is mine?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh? I thought you were out of town."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I recently invested in a gun safe and had them all  locked up. What does she mean when she says that she cooks all the food in the house?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3964847107118760365?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3964847107118760365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3964847107118760365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3964847107118760365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3964847107118760365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/whats-for-dinner.html' title='What&apos;s For Dinner?'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-823284009979288658</id><published>2008-08-11T06:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T06:17:23.210-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aging Parody'/><title type='text'>Lifespan</title><content type='html'>God created the dog and said, "Sit all day by the door of your house and&lt;br /&gt;bark at anyone that comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a&lt;br /&gt;life span of 20 years."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog said, "That's a long time to be barking. How about only 10 years&lt;br /&gt;and I'll give you back the other 10?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second day, God created the monkey and said, "Entertain people,&lt;br /&gt;do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a 20-year life&lt;br /&gt;span."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monkey said, "Monkey tricks for 20 years? That's a pretty long time&lt;br /&gt;to perform. How about I give you back 10 like the dog did?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the third day, God created the cow and said, "You must go into the&lt;br /&gt;field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves&lt;br /&gt;and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you&lt;br /&gt;a life span of 60 years."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cow said, "That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for 60&lt;br /&gt;years. How about 20 and I'll give back the other 40?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God agreed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the fourth day, God created man and said, "Eat, sleep, play, marry&lt;br /&gt;and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you 20 years."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But man said, "Only 20 years? Could you possibly give me my 20, the 40&lt;br /&gt;the cow gave back, the 10 the monkey gave back, and the 10 the dog gave&lt;br /&gt;back? That makes 80, okay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay," said God, "you asked for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's why, for our first 20 years, we eat, sleep, play and enjoy&lt;br /&gt;ourselves. For the next 40 years we slave in the sun to support our&lt;br /&gt;family. For the next 10 years we do monkey tricks to entertain the&lt;br /&gt;grandchildren. And for the last 10 years we sit on the front porch and&lt;br /&gt;bark at everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-823284009979288658?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/823284009979288658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=823284009979288658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/823284009979288658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/823284009979288658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/lifespan.html' title='Lifespan'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7040490470332686121</id><published>2008-08-09T16:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T16:52:24.854-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Technology'/><title type='text'>Windows Errors</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Smash forehead on keyboard to continue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Press any key to continue or any other key to quit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; BREAKFAST.SYS halted... Cereal port not responding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Close your eyes and press escape three times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; File not found. Should I fake it? (Y/N) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Runtime Error 6D at 417A:32CF: Incompetent User. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Enter any 11-digit prime number to continue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Bad command or file name! Go stand in the corner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Windows message: "Error saving file! Format drive now? (Y/Y)" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt; Windows VirusScan 1.0 - "Windows found: Remove it? (Y/N)" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7040490470332686121?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7040490470332686121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7040490470332686121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7040490470332686121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7040490470332686121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/windows-errors.html' title='Windows Errors'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6748202768646869678</id><published>2008-08-07T08:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T09:00:26.608-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Teach Me To Pray</title><content type='html'>A wife invited some people to dinner. At the table, she turned to their six-year-old daughter and said, "Would you like to say the blessing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wouldn't know what to say," the girl replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just say what you hear Mommy say," the wife answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The daughter bowed her head and said, "Lord, why on earth did I invite all these people to dinner?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6748202768646869678?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6748202768646869678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6748202768646869678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6748202768646869678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6748202768646869678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/teach-me-to-pray.html' title='Teach Me To Pray'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3884344536431108689</id><published>2008-08-06T08:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:50:28.056-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Wrapping the Baby</title><content type='html'>Part of her job as a public-health nurse was teaching new parents how to care for their infants. As she was &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;demonstrating how to wrap a newborn, a young couple turned to her and said, "You mean we should wrap the baby like &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an egg roll?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," she replied, "That is a good analogy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know how to make egg rolls," another mother said anxiously. "Can I wrap my baby like a burrito?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3884344536431108689?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3884344536431108689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3884344536431108689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3884344536431108689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3884344536431108689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/wrapping-baby.html' title='Wrapping the Baby'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-880035011124129001</id><published>2008-08-05T08:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T08:17:57.876-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Man of the House</title><content type='html'>A man had just finished reading the book "Man of the House" while riding the commuter train home from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he reached home, he stormed into the house and walked directly up to his wife. Pointing his finger in her face, he said, "From now on I want you to know that I am the man of this house and my word is law! You are to prepare me a gourmet meal tonight, and when I'm finished eating my meal, I expect a sumptuous dessert afterward. Then, after dinner, you're going to draw my bath so I can relax. And when I'm finished with my bath, guess who's going to dress me and comb my hair?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife thought for a moment and responded, "My guess is the funeral director."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-880035011124129001?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/880035011124129001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=880035011124129001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/880035011124129001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/880035011124129001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/man-of-house.html' title='Man of the House'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8539950196576000850</id><published>2008-08-04T19:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T19:39:30.091-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Puns'/><title type='text'>The Van Gogh Family Tree</title><content type='html'>After much careful research it has been discovered that the&lt;br /&gt;artist Vincent Van Gogh had many relatives. Among them were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;His obnoxious brother, Please Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;His dizzy aunt, Verti Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The brother who ate prunes, Gotta Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The brother who worked at a convenience store, Stop n' Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The grandfather from Yugoslavia, U Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The brother who bleached his clothes white, Hue Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The cousin from Illinois, Chica Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;His magician uncle, Wherediddy Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;His Mexican cousin, Amee Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Mexican cousin's American half brother, Grin Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The nephew who drove a stage coach, Wellsfar Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The constipated uncle, Cant Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The ballroom dancing aunt, Tan Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The bird lover uncle, Flamin Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;His nephew psychoanalyst, E Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The fruit loving cousin, Man Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;An aunt who taught positive thinking, Wayto Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;The little bouncy nephew, Poe Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;A sister who loved disco, Go Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;His Italian uncle, Day Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;li&gt;And his niece who travels the country in a van, Winnie Bay&lt;br /&gt;Gogh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8539950196576000850?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8539950196576000850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8539950196576000850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8539950196576000850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8539950196576000850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/08/van-gogh-family-tree.html' title='The Van Gogh Family Tree'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6662840593616705527</id><published>2008-07-30T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T09:06:44.115-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Creative Thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Kangaroos Just Want To Be Free</title><content type='html'>A kangaroo kept getting out of his enclosure at the zoo. Knowing that he could hop high, the zoo officials put up a ten-foot fence. He was out the next morning, just sauntering around the zoo. A twenty-foot fence was put up. Again he got out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the fence was forty feet high, a camel in the next enclosure asked the kangaroo, "How high do you think they'll go?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kangaroo said, "I'm going to guess about a thousand feet, unless somebody locks the gate at night!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6662840593616705527?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6662840593616705527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6662840593616705527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6662840593616705527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6662840593616705527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/kangaroos-just-want-to-be-free.html' title='Kangaroos Just Want To Be Free'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4274747287926307409</id><published>2008-07-12T10:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T08:49:13.036-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Communication'/><title type='text'>Jump Start</title><content type='html'>About five years ago, the battery in my beat-up VW beetle had died because I left the lights on overnight. I was in a hurry to get to work on time so I ran into the house to get my wife to give me a hand to start the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her to get into our second car, a prehistoric oversized gas guzzler, and use it to push my car fast enough to start it. I pointed out to her that because the VW had an automatic transmission, it needed to be pushed at least 30 MPH for it to start. She said fine, hoped into her car and drove off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat there fuming and wondering, "What can she be doing?" A minute passed by and when I saw her in the rearview mirror coming at me at about 40 MPH, I realized that I should have been a bit more clear with my directions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4274747287926307409?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4274747287926307409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4274747287926307409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4274747287926307409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4274747287926307409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/jump-start.html' title='Jump Start'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5001174756140871153</id><published>2008-07-12T09:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T18:15:46.912-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laws'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Traffic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cops'/><title type='text'>Bizarre Driving Laws</title><content type='html'>This is travelling season, so be careful out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;Alabama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal for a driver to be blindfolded while operating a vehicle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is legal to drive the wrong way down a one-way street as long as a lantern is attached to the front of your car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Driving barefoot is illegal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Alaska&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal to tie a dog to the roof of your car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Arkansas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal for a person to blare the horn on a vehicle at any place where cold drinks or sandwiches are served after 9 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;California&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Any woman dressed in a housecoat is prohibited from driving a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal in San Francisco to buff or dry your car with used underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; No unoccupied vehicle may exceed 60 miles per hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Florida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; If an elephant is tied to a parking meter, the owner or attendant must deposit money in the meter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Georgia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; State Assembly members are immune from being ticketed for speeding while the State Assembly is in session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Marietta, Georgia, it is illegal to spit from a moving car or bus, but is okay from a moving truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Illinois&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Evanston, Illinois, it is unlawful to change clothes while inside a car with the curtains drawn, except during a fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kansas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Derby, Kansas, it is considered a misdemeanor to screech your tires while driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kentucky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; If you stop for ice cream while driving, be aware that it is considered unlawful to transport an ice cream cone in your back pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Massachusetts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; You will be ticketed if you drive with a gorilla in the backseat of your car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Michigan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; If you car breaks down in Detroit and you are waiting for assistance, be aware that sitting in the middle of the street to read a newspaper is illegal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Minnesota&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal to cross state lines, regardless if you are walking or driving, with a duck on your head. And, if you're crossing into Wisconsin, the law also applies to chickens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Minnetonka, Minnesota, if you drive a truck that leaves mud, dirt, or sticky substances on any road, you will be considered a public nuisance who is harming the peace, safety, and general welfare of the town. &lt;li&gt; You cannot ride a motorcycle without a shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Montana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Whitehall, Montana, vehicles are prohibited from driving with ice picks attached to the wheels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nevada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal to drive a camel on the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;New Jersey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Drivers are required to beep their car horns before passing another vehicle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; If convicted of driving while intoxicated, you permanently lose the option of registering for a vanity license plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;North Carolina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Dunn, North Carolina, it is illegal to drive on a sidewalk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ohio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Oxford, Ohio, authorities will ticket you if you consecutively drive around the town square more than 100 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; Keep in mind that if your car breaks down and you phone for a cab, you will be ticketed if you opt to ride on the cab's roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oklahoma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is considered illegal to read a comic book while driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oregon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; You will be ticketed if you leave your car door open longer than is deemed necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; You will be slapped with a Class A traffic violation if you use your car on an Oregon highway to prove your physical endurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal to pump your own gas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pennsylvania&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; If you spy a team of approaching horses, you are required by law to pull to the side of the road and cover your car with a blanket or dust cover that has been painted or sewn to blend into the scenery. But, if the horses react skittish to your efforts, you are then required to disassemble your car and hide the parts in the nearby underbrush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;South Carolina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; In Hilton Head, South Carolina, you cannot leave trash in your vehicle out of fear of attracting rats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tennessee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is illegal to fire a gun at any wild game other than whales from a moving car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;West Virginia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt; It is perfectly legal, for road maintenance purposes, to scavenge road kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5001174756140871153?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5001174756140871153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5001174756140871153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5001174756140871153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5001174756140871153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/bizarre-driving-laws.html' title='Bizarre Driving Laws'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8991896127276576745</id><published>2008-07-08T03:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T03:11:00.524-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drama'/><title type='text'>The Sound of Drums</title><content type='html'>A researcher arrives in the deepest, darkest jungles of Borneo to gather data for his thesis. Accompanied by &lt;br /&gt;his trusty guide, he seeks out a very remote locale for researching the &lt;br /&gt;mating behaviour of the giant rat of Sumatra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around dusk of the first day, he's sitting by the campfire with his guide &lt;br /&gt;As the heat and humidity of the hot jungle day increases, in the distance, he hears tribal drums. They get louder. The guide announces, &lt;br /&gt;"I don't like the sound of those drums." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dusk arrives and turns into a tepid, osquito filled evening. The persisstant drums get louder and closer and more ominous. The guide says, "I really don't like the sound of those drums." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evening turns to dead of night. The drums get louder and louder, until it is &lt;br /&gt;obvious that the restless natives, with their drummers must be quite close. The guide says again, "I &lt;br /&gt;really don't like the sound of those drums." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the drums stop! All is suddenly deathly still in the wild jungle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A piercing voice from the darkness cries out! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey man, give us a break! He's not our regular drummer!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8991896127276576745?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8991896127276576745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8991896127276576745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8991896127276576745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8991896127276576745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/sound-of-drums.html' title='The Sound of Drums'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5805102853243171561</id><published>2008-07-07T10:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T00:03:43.342-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Interview With An Eighty Year Old Woman</title><content type='html'>The local news station was interviewing an 80-year-old lady&lt;br /&gt;because she had just gotten married -- for the fourth time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interviewer asked her questions about her life, about&lt;br /&gt;what it felt like to be marrying again at 80, and then about&lt;br /&gt;her new husband's occupation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's a funeral director," she answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Interesting," the newsman thought. He then asked her if she&lt;br /&gt;wouldn't mind telling him a little about her first three&lt;br /&gt;husbands and what they did for a living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She paused for a few moments, needing time to reflect on all&lt;br /&gt;those years. After a short time, a smile came to her face&lt;br /&gt;and she answered proudly, explaining that she'd first&lt;br /&gt;married a banker when she was in her early 20s, then a&lt;br /&gt;circus ringmaster when in her 40s, later on a preacher when&lt;br /&gt;in her 60s, and now in her 80s, a funeral director.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interviewer looked at her, quite astonished, and asked&lt;br /&gt;why she had married four men with such diverse careers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiled and explained, "I married one for the money, two&lt;br /&gt;for the show, three to get ready, and four to go."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5805102853243171561?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5805102853243171561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5805102853243171561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5805102853243171561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5805102853243171561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/interview-with-eighty-year-old-woman.html' title='Interview With An Eighty Year Old Woman'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5839050162230043636</id><published>2008-07-07T10:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T09:09:06.406-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One Liners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>Harmonica One Liners</title><content type='html'>Q. Why do dogs howl when harmonica players play?&lt;br /&gt;A. They're trying to tell them how the song goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do you call a harmonica&lt;br /&gt;players accompanist?&lt;br /&gt;A. Fido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do the best harmonica players have in common?&lt;br /&gt;A. They all suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do you call a harmonica player who doesn't step all over the singers's lines?&lt;br /&gt;A. Deceased&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do you say at the end of a great harmonica solo?&lt;br /&gt;A. Thank God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How many harmonica players does it take to screw in a lightbulb?&lt;br /&gt;A. Five. One to screw it in and four to determine if it should be in straight or cross position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do you call a harmonica player who says he knows what notes he's playing?&lt;br /&gt;A. A Liar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Why do harmonica players say they play a "harp"?&lt;br /&gt;A. So you won't think they play a "harmonica" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Why do harmonica players say they play a "harp"?&lt;br /&gt;A. Harmonica is a four syllable word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. Which is better: electric guitar or harmonica?&lt;br /&gt;A. Electric guitar. You can't beat a harmonica player to death with a harmonica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do you call a harmonica player in a brand new suit?&lt;br /&gt;A. Dearly departed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How Many Harmonica Players Does it take to change a lightbulb?&lt;br /&gt;A. Don't worry about the changes man, Just blow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How do you know there's a harp player at your front door?&lt;br /&gt;A. He doesn't know when to come in and he can't find the key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How to harmonica players traditionally greet each other?&lt;br /&gt;A. "Hi. I'm better than you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do you call a groupie who hangs around and annoys musicians?&lt;br /&gt;A. A harmonica player.&lt;br /&gt;Q. What is the difference between a harmonica and a '57 Chevy?&lt;br /&gt;A. You can tune a '57 Chevy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. If you threw a guitar player and a harmonica player off a cliff, which one would hit the ground first?&lt;br /&gt;A. The guitar player. The harp would have to stop halfway down to ask what key they're in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How do you get a harp&lt;br /&gt;player to play softer?&lt;br /&gt;A. Give him some sheet music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What do a vacuum cleaner and an amplified harmonica player have in common.&lt;br /&gt;A. Both suck when you plug them in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. How many Harp Players does it take to change a light bulb?&lt;br /&gt;A. None--they just steal somebody else's light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q. What does it mean when a harmonica player is drooling out both sides of his mouth?&lt;br /&gt;A. The stage is level.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5839050162230043636?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5839050162230043636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5839050162230043636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5839050162230043636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5839050162230043636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/harmonica-one-liners.html' title='Harmonica One Liners'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4928048621909821347</id><published>2008-07-07T10:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T08:25:17.655-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Wal-Mart, An Adventure For All Ages</title><content type='html'>First, let's set the scene. You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house. Mowing the lawn, putting a new fence in, painting the living room, or whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are hot and sweaty. Covered in dirt or paint. You have your old work &lt;br /&gt;clothes on. You know the outfit, shorts with the hole in crotch, old &lt;br /&gt;t-shirt with a stain from who knows what and an old pair of tennis &lt;br /&gt;shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you &lt;br /&gt;realize you need to run to Wal-Mart to get something required to &lt;br /&gt;complete the job. Depending on your age you might do the following:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In your 20's:&lt;br /&gt;Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush &lt;br /&gt;your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror &lt;br /&gt;and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know, you &lt;br /&gt;just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. You &lt;br /&gt;went to school with the pretty girl running the register.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In your 30's:&lt;br /&gt;Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. &lt;br /&gt;You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash your hands and &lt;br /&gt;comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot &lt;br /&gt;of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the &lt;br /&gt;register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In your 40's:&lt;br /&gt;Stop what you are doing. Put a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover &lt;br /&gt;the hole in the crotch of your shorts. Put on different shoes and a hat &lt;br /&gt;Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brute Cologne is almost empty so you &lt;br /&gt;don't want to waste any of it on a trip to Wal-Mart. Check yourself in &lt;br /&gt;the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The spicy young thing &lt;br /&gt;running the register is your daughter's age and you feel weird thinking &lt;br /&gt;she is spicy.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In your 50's:&lt;br /&gt;Stop what you are doing. Put a hat on, wipe the dirt off your hands onto &lt;br /&gt;your shirt Change shoes because you don't want to get dirt in your new &lt;br /&gt;sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that &lt;br /&gt;shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The cutie running the &lt;br /&gt;register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have &lt;br /&gt;it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from your buddy's bait shop &lt;br /&gt;and it says, "I Got Worms".&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In your 60's:&lt;br /&gt;Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose off the dog &lt;br /&gt;crap off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your &lt;br /&gt;50's. You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in &lt;br /&gt;your pants. The girl running the register may be cute but you don't have &lt;br /&gt;your glasses on so you are not sure.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In your 70's:&lt;br /&gt;Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Wal-Mart until they have your &lt;br /&gt;prescriptions ready too. You don't even notice the dog crap on your &lt;br /&gt;shoes. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind &lt;br /&gt;her of her grandfather.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In your 80's:&lt;br /&gt;Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember &lt;br /&gt;that you needed to go to Wal-Mart. Go to Wal-Mart and wander around &lt;br /&gt;trying to think what it is you are looking for. Fart out loud and you &lt;br /&gt;think someone called out your name. The old lady that greeted you at the &lt;br /&gt;front door went to school with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4928048621909821347?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4928048621909821347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4928048621909821347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4928048621909821347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4928048621909821347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/wal-mart-adventure-for-all-ages.html' title='Wal-Mart, An Adventure For All Ages'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6270520542212023949</id><published>2008-07-07T10:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T08:52:20.668-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>Family Vacations</title><content type='html'>When I was a child, my family used to often take our vacations in&lt;br /&gt;British Columbia&lt;br /&gt;  . We had a favorite place to visit, mostly because of the fine &lt;br /&gt;fishing. It was at a lake that was about 30 miles long and a half mile wide.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;While we were around our campfire in the evenings, the local Indians &lt;br /&gt;would go from camp to camp selling their wares. They would also tell of &lt;br /&gt;the legends of the area. This one legend always stuck in my mind:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It seemed that on this particular lake, two Indian tribes made their &lt;br /&gt;homes. They were, however, at war with one another from years before. &lt;br /&gt;There was an Indian maiden in one camp who was in love with a young &lt;br /&gt;brave in the other camp, and they used to stand on the shore of their &lt;br /&gt;respective side of the lake and chant Indian love calls to each other &lt;br /&gt;even though they were warned by their Chiefs that nothing could ever &lt;br /&gt;become of their love.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;One day, they just couldn't stand being apart any longer. That evening, &lt;br /&gt;on a cold fall night, they each jumped into the lake and swam towards &lt;br /&gt;each other in the moonlight.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When they reached each other in in the middle of the lake, they embraced &lt;br /&gt;and very quickly froze to death. This act so impressed the brave's tribe &lt;br /&gt;that they named the lake after the young man.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I will never forget those wonderful vacations that we spent at&lt;br /&gt;LakeStupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6270520542212023949?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6270520542212023949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6270520542212023949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6270520542212023949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6270520542212023949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/family-vacations.html' title='Family Vacations'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5930182364550877388</id><published>2008-07-07T10:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T12:05:56.364-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Riddles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Elephants and Fleas</title><content type='html'>Q. What's the difference between an elephant and a flea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. An elephant can have fleas but fleas can't have elephants&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5930182364550877388?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5930182364550877388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5930182364550877388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5930182364550877388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5930182364550877388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/elephants-and-fleas.html' title='Elephants and Fleas'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6627244830164275465</id><published>2008-07-07T10:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T08:32:32.118-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Calling In Sick</title><content type='html'>Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable No matter how legitimate my &lt;br /&gt;excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the &lt;br /&gt;truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had &lt;br /&gt;sustained&lt;br /&gt;a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By &lt;br /&gt;then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top &lt;br /&gt;of&lt;br /&gt;my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's &lt;br /&gt;wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.&lt;br /&gt;Initially, the new acquisition was no problem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my &lt;br /&gt;wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter &lt;br /&gt;and steam.   "Reset it yourself!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" &lt;br /&gt;There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a &lt;br /&gt;second."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged &lt;br /&gt;nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as &lt;br /&gt;extremely&lt;br /&gt;cowardly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the &lt;br /&gt;button. It is the last action I remember performing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, &lt;br /&gt;it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It &lt;br /&gt;was&lt;br /&gt;our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied &lt;br /&gt;hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked &lt;br /&gt;me&lt;br /&gt;as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most &lt;br /&gt;vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them &lt;br /&gt;with her&lt;br /&gt;needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily &lt;br /&gt;movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight &lt;br /&gt;of&lt;br /&gt;a kitten hanging from my masculine region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in &lt;br /&gt;this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from &lt;br /&gt;experience.&lt;br /&gt;I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and &lt;br /&gt;forcefully impeded my ascent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The impact knocked me out cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I awoke, my wife   and  the  paramedics stood over me. Now there are &lt;br /&gt;not  many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the &lt;br /&gt;kitchen&lt;br /&gt;floor butt naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.&lt;br /&gt;Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all &lt;br /&gt;snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to &lt;br /&gt;suppress&lt;br /&gt;their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in &lt;br /&gt;to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about&lt;br /&gt;my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, &lt;br /&gt;which it was. "What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"&lt;br /&gt;If they only knew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that only the women laugh at this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6627244830164275465?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6627244830164275465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6627244830164275465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6627244830164275465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6627244830164275465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/calling-in-sick_07.html' title='Calling In Sick'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5314140813173289455</id><published>2008-07-07T10:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T21:36:06.925-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Calling In Sick</title><content type='html'>Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable No matter how legitimate my &lt;br /&gt;excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the &lt;br /&gt;truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had &lt;br /&gt;sustained&lt;br /&gt;a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By &lt;br /&gt;then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top &lt;br /&gt;of&lt;br /&gt;my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's &lt;br /&gt;wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.&lt;br /&gt;Initially, the new acquisition was no problem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my &lt;br /&gt;wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter &lt;br /&gt;and steam.   "Reset it yourself!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" &lt;br /&gt;There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a &lt;br /&gt;second."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged &lt;br /&gt;nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as &lt;br /&gt;extremely&lt;br /&gt;cowardly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the &lt;br /&gt;button. It is the last action I remember performing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, &lt;br /&gt;it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It &lt;br /&gt;was&lt;br /&gt;our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied &lt;br /&gt;hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked &lt;br /&gt;me&lt;br /&gt;as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most &lt;br /&gt;vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them &lt;br /&gt;with her&lt;br /&gt;needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily &lt;br /&gt;movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight &lt;br /&gt;of&lt;br /&gt;a kitten hanging from my masculine region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in &lt;br /&gt;this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from &lt;br /&gt;experience.&lt;br /&gt;I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and &lt;br /&gt;forcefully impeded my ascent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The impact knocked me out cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I awoke, my wife   and  the  paramedics stood over me. Now there are &lt;br /&gt;not  many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the &lt;br /&gt;kitchen&lt;br /&gt;floor butt naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.&lt;br /&gt;Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all &lt;br /&gt;snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to &lt;br /&gt;suppress&lt;br /&gt;their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in &lt;br /&gt;to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about&lt;br /&gt;my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, &lt;br /&gt;which it was. "What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"&lt;br /&gt;If they only knew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that only the women laugh at this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5314140813173289455?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5314140813173289455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5314140813173289455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5314140813173289455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5314140813173289455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/calling-in-sick.html' title='Calling In Sick'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4616762588934280470</id><published>2008-07-07T09:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:43:53.812-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Decisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Barking</title><content type='html'>Your dog's barking at the back door. Your spouse's barking at the front. Who do you let in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's your call, but the dog'll stop barking when you let him in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4616762588934280470?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4616762588934280470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4616762588934280470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4616762588934280470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4616762588934280470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/barking.html' title='Barking'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3418175524412685108</id><published>2008-07-07T09:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T09:52:21.802-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>A Child's Prayer</title><content type='html'>A Sunday school teacher asked her pupils, "Now, children, do&lt;br /&gt;you all say your prayers at night?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little boy answered, "My mommy says my prayers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I see," said the teacher. "And what does your mother say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy replied, "THANK GOD HE'S IN BED!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3418175524412685108?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3418175524412685108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3418175524412685108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3418175524412685108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3418175524412685108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/childs-prayer.html' title='A Child&apos;s Prayer'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5072160745002264083</id><published>2008-07-06T02:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T02:42:00.526-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Where Do Computers Come From?</title><content type='html'>A little computer goes to his father and asks 'Daddy, how was I born?' &lt;br /&gt;The father answers, 'Well, son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Mom and I first got together in a chat room on Yahoo. &lt;br /&gt;Then I set up a date via e-mail and we met at a cyber-cafe. We surfed the Internet and cruised the Information Superhighway together and had MegaBytes of fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our protocol matched and we knew it was time for a hardwire intrface. We sneaked into a secluded room, where after pinging, your mother set her accesspermission to Read, Write, Execute, and agreed to a download from my hard drive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as the upload was in progress, we discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, or had Anti Virus software installed. It was too late to hit the delete button, After nine months of sluggish and irratic operation, in your mother's operating system, a little Pop-Up appeared that said: &lt;br /&gt;"You got Male!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5072160745002264083?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5072160745002264083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5072160745002264083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5072160745002264083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5072160745002264083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/where-do-computers-come-from.html' title='Where Do Computers Come From?'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6334325955735414076</id><published>2008-07-04T02:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T02:36:00.915-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Military'/><title type='text'>Adventures in Serving Our Country</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;A Slice of Life in theUS Air Force&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A US Air Force C141 is scheduled to leave Thule Air Base, Greenland at &lt;br /&gt;midnight. During the pilot's preflight check, he discovers that the &lt;br /&gt;latrine holding tank is still full from the last flight. So a message is &lt;br /&gt;sent to the base and an airman who was off duty is called out to take &lt;br /&gt;care of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young man finally gets to the air base and makes his way to the &lt;br /&gt;aircraft, only to find that the latrine pump truck has been left &lt;br /&gt;outdoors and is frozen solid, so he must find another one in the hangar, &lt;br /&gt;which takes even more time. He returns to the aircraft and is less than &lt;br /&gt;enthusiastic about what he has to do. Nevertheless, he goes about the &lt;br /&gt;pumping job deliberately and carefully (and slowly) so as to not risk &lt;br /&gt;criticism later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he's leaving the plane, the pilot stops him and says, "Son, your &lt;br /&gt;attitude and performance has caused this flight to be late and I'm going &lt;br /&gt;to personally see to it that you are not just reprimanded but punished." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shivering in the cold, his task finished, he takes a deep breath, stands &lt;br /&gt;up tall and says, "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not your son; I'm an &lt;br /&gt;Airman in the United States Air Force. I've been in Thule , Greenland &lt;br /&gt;for 11 months without any leave, and reindeer are beginning to look &lt;br /&gt;pretty good to me. I have one stripe, it's two-thirty in the morning, &lt;br /&gt;the temperature is 40 degrees below zero and my job here is to pump &lt;br /&gt;human waste from your aircraft. Now just exactly what form of punishment &lt;br /&gt;did you have in mind?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6334325955735414076?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6334325955735414076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6334325955735414076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6334325955735414076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6334325955735414076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/adventures-in-serving-our-country.html' title='Adventures in Serving Our Country'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-861161607206330686</id><published>2008-07-02T02:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T02:31:00.511-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>National Forrest Service Warning</title><content type='html'>The Forest Service has issued a "BEAR WARNING" in the national forests &lt;br /&gt;for this summer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;They're urging everyone to protect themselves by wearing bells and &lt;br /&gt;carrying pepper spray as a means to scare away bears. Campers should be alert for signs of fresh bear &lt;br /&gt;activity, and should be able to tell the difference between black bear &lt;br /&gt;dung, and grizzly bear dung. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Black bear dung is rather small and round. Sometimes you can see fruit &lt;br /&gt;seeds and/or squirrel fur in it. &lt;br /&gt;Grizzly bear dung has bells in it, and smells like pepper spray. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Be Safe. Be informed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-861161607206330686?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/861161607206330686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=861161607206330686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/861161607206330686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/861161607206330686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/national-forrest-service-warning.html' title='National Forrest Service Warning'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-9116700951905898389</id><published>2008-06-30T02:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T02:27:00.621-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Discipline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Military'/><title type='text'>Army Computer</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;In the Army Now &lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The U.S. has succeeded in building a computer able to solve any strategic or tactical problem. Military leaders are assembled in front of the new machine &lt;br /&gt;and instructed to feed a difficult tactical problem into it. They describe a hypothetical situation to the computer and then ask the pivotal question: &lt;br /&gt;Attack or Retreat? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The computer hums away for an hour and then comes up with the answer: &lt;br /&gt;YES. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The generals look at each other, somewhat stupefied. Finally one of them submits a second request to the computer: &lt;br /&gt;YES WHAT? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instantly the computer responded: &lt;br /&gt;YES SIR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-9116700951905898389?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/9116700951905898389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=9116700951905898389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/9116700951905898389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/9116700951905898389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/army-computer.html' title='Army Computer'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2429695298893072819</id><published>2008-06-28T02:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T02:21:01.158-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One Liners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyers'/><title type='text'>Its Time to Get a New Lawyer</title><content type='html'>&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dt&gt;It's Time to Get a New Lawyer When &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; The prosecutor sees your lawyer in the hall, and they high-five each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; During your initial consultation he tries to sell you Amway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; He tells you that his last good case was a "Budweiser." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; He picks the jury by playing "duck-duck-goose." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; During the trial you catch him playing his Gameboy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; Every couple of minutes he yells, "I call Jack Daniels to the stand!" and proceeds to drink a shot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;d&gt; He frequently gives juror No. 4 the finger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; Just before he says "Your Honor," he makes those little quotation marks in the air with his fingers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; Whenever his objection is overruled, he tells the judge, "Whatever." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; He giggles every time he hears the word "briefs." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; He keeps citing the legal case of Godzilla v. Mothra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;dd&gt; He begins closing arguments with, "As Denny Crane once said..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2429695298893072819?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2429695298893072819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2429695298893072819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2429695298893072819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2429695298893072819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-time-to-get-new-lawyer.html' title='Its Time to Get a New Lawyer'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6994769081784260593</id><published>2008-06-24T08:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T08:12:00.596-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>A Fairy Tale</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;One day, long, long ago, there was this woman who &lt;br /&gt;did not whine, nag, or complain........ &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But this was a long time ago...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it was just ONE day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End &lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6994769081784260593?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6994769081784260593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6994769081784260593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6994769081784260593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6994769081784260593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/fairy-tale.html' title='A Fairy Tale'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1239761524599852008</id><published>2008-06-22T07:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T07:21:00.601-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>The Ins and Outs of Baseball, A Simple Explaination.</title><content type='html'>This is a game played by two teams, one out the other in. The one that's in, sends players out one at a time, to see if they can get in before they get out. If they get out before they get in, they come&lt;br /&gt;in, but it doesn't count. If they get in before they get out it does count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the ones out get three outs from the ones in before they get in without being out, the team that's out comes in and the team in goes out to get those going in out before they get in without being out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When both teams have been in and out nine times the game is over. The team with the most in without being out before coming in wins unless&lt;br /&gt;the ones in are equal. In which case, the last ones in go out to get the ones in out before they get in without being out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game will end when each team has the same number of ins out but one team has more in without being out before coming in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got it? Now go out, and don't come back in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1239761524599852008?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1239761524599852008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1239761524599852008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1239761524599852008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1239761524599852008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/ins-and-outs-of-baseball-simple.html' title='The Ins and Outs of Baseball, A Simple Explaination.'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3945850932690532313</id><published>2008-06-20T07:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T07:13:00.507-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Puns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Hungry Lion's Problem</title><content type='html'>A hungry lion was roaming through the jungle looking for something to eat.&lt;br /&gt;He came across two men. One was sitting under a tree and reading a book; the&lt;br /&gt;other was typing away on his typewriter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lion quickly pounced on the man reading the book and devoured him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the king of the jungle knows that readers digest and writers cramp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3945850932690532313?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3945850932690532313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3945850932690532313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3945850932690532313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3945850932690532313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/hungry-lions-problem.html' title='The Hungry Lion&apos;s Problem'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-5811740424180957525</id><published>2008-06-18T07:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T07:09:56.121-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mistakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Error At City Hall</title><content type='html'>Two men take a wrong turn and walk into a room in the San Francisco City&lt;br /&gt;Hall. A man walks up to them, says a lot of legal mumbo jumbo , and finally declares, "I&lt;br /&gt;now pronounce you spouse and spouse."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One man looks at the other and tells the Justice of the Peace, "We just came&lt;br /&gt;in here to get fishing licenses!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-5811740424180957525?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/5811740424180957525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=5811740424180957525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5811740424180957525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/5811740424180957525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/error-at-city-hall.html' title='Error At City Hall'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1827769321280681688</id><published>2008-06-16T07:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T07:05:01.748-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowboys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Dodge City</title><content type='html'>A cowboy had been in the saloon for a long time and decided that it was&lt;br /&gt;time, once again to head for the hills. He walked through the swing doors&lt;br /&gt;and immediately&lt;br /&gt;noticed that his horse had disappeared from the rail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK" he said, re-entering the crowded bar "I,m gonna have one more drink and&lt;br /&gt;if my horse ain't back by then, the same thing will happen here that&lt;br /&gt;happened&lt;br /&gt;in Dodge City."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that several of the cowboys ran out of the saloon and within minutes&lt;br /&gt;one had returned to tell him that they'd found his horse for him. As he&lt;br /&gt;turned&lt;br /&gt;to leave the bartender stopped him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me stranger" he said, "but what happened in Dodge City?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cowboy replied: "I had to walk home!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1827769321280681688?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1827769321280681688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1827769321280681688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1827769321280681688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1827769321280681688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/dodge-city.html' title='Dodge City'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-2155455537037808981</id><published>2008-06-14T07:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T07:14:33.665-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Out of Stock</title><content type='html'>A store manager overheard a clerk saying to a customer, "No, ma'am, we&lt;br /&gt;haven't had any for some weeks now, and it doesn't look as if we'll be&lt;br /&gt;getting any&lt;br /&gt;soon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alarmed by what was being said, the manager rushed over to the customer who&lt;br /&gt;was walking out the door and said, "That isn't true, ma'am. Of course, we'll&lt;br /&gt;have some soon. In fact, we placed an order for it a couple of weeks ago."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the manager drew the clerk aside and growled, "Never, never, never,&lt;br /&gt;never say we don't have something. If we don't have it, say we ordered it&lt;br /&gt;and it's&lt;br /&gt;on its way. Now, what was it she wanted?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clerk smiled and said, "Rain."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-2155455537037808981?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/2155455537037808981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=2155455537037808981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2155455537037808981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/2155455537037808981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/out-of-stock.html' title='Out of Stock'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4236123690885220949</id><published>2008-06-12T08:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T08:10:01.442-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Didn't Do It</title><content type='html'>One day a man comes home from work to find total mayhem at home. The kids&lt;br /&gt;were outside still in their pajamas playing in the mud and muck. There were&lt;br /&gt;empty&lt;br /&gt;food boxes and wrappers all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he proceeded into the house, he found an even bigger mess. Dishes on the&lt;br /&gt;counter, dog food spilled on the floor, a broken glass under the table, and&lt;br /&gt;a small pile of sand by the back door. The family room was strewn with toys&lt;br /&gt;and various items of clothing, and a lamp had been knocked over. He headed&lt;br /&gt;up the stairs, stepping over toys, to look for his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was becoming worried that she may be ill, or that something had happened&lt;br /&gt;to her. He found her in the bedroom, still in bed with her pajamas on,&lt;br /&gt;reading&lt;br /&gt;a book. She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She again smiled and answered, "You know everyday when you come home from&lt;br /&gt;work and ask me what I did today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," was his reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Well, today I didn't do it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4236123690885220949?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4236123690885220949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4236123690885220949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4236123690885220949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4236123690885220949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/didnt-do-it.html' title='Didn&apos;t Do It'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3156980089723522006</id><published>2008-06-10T07:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T08:14:33.390-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>A Childish Triple Threat</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Lunch Time&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The power went off at the elementary school, so the cook couldn't serve a hot meal in the school cafeteria. She had to feed the children something. At the last moment she whipped up great stacks of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;As one little boy, while filling his plate said, "At last... a home cooked meal!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Thought For The Day&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align=center&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids are like breaking wind. No matter how bad they are, it is tolerable when they are your own, but offensive when it is someone else's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Growing Family&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Used to being the center of attention, Robbie was a little more than jealous of his new baby sister. The parents sat him down and said that now that she was getting older, the house was too small and they'd have to move.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"It's no use," Robbie said. "She's crawling good now and she'd probably just follow us."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3156980089723522006?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3156980089723522006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3156980089723522006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3156980089723522006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3156980089723522006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/childish-triple-threat.html' title='A Childish Triple Threat'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-8214919264896029664</id><published>2008-06-08T08:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T08:14:36.336-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Adventures in Married Life</title><content type='html'>His wife had just bought a new line of expensive cosmetics absolutely guaranteed to make her looks years younger. She sat in front of the mirror for what had to be hours applying the "miracle" products.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Finally, when she was done, she turned to her husband and said, "Honey, honestly now, what age would you say I am?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He nodded his head in assessment, and carefully said, "Well, judging from your skin, twenty. Your hair, eighteen. Your figure, twenty-five."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Oh, you're so sweet!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Well, hang on, I'm not done adding it up yet."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-8214919264896029664?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/8214919264896029664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=8214919264896029664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8214919264896029664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/8214919264896029664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/adventures-in-married-life.html' title='Adventures in Married Life'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1137816251695378926</id><published>2008-06-06T08:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T13:00:26.133-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>The Atheist and the Bear.</title><content type='html'>An atheist was taking a walk through the woods admiring all that the "accident of evolution" had created."What majestic trees! What powerful rivers! What&lt;br /&gt;beautiful animals!" he said to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he was walking alongside the river he heard a rustling in the bushes behind. As he turned to look, he saw a 7-foot grizzly charge toward him. He ran&lt;br /&gt;as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the bear was closing in on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried to run even faster, so scared that tears were coming to his eyes. He looked over his shoulder again and the bear was even closer. His heart was&lt;br /&gt;pumping frantically as he tried to run even faster, but he tripped and fell to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rolled over to pick himself up and saw the bear right on top of him raising his paw to kill him. At that instant he cried out, "Oh my God!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, time stopped. The bear froze, the forest was silent, the river even stopped moving. A bright light shone upon the man, and a voice came out of&lt;br /&gt;the sky saying, "You deny my existence all of these years, teach others I don't exist, and even credit my creation to a cosmic accident and now you expect&lt;br /&gt;me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The atheist, ever so proud, looked into the light and said, "It would be rather hypocritical to ask to be a Christian after all these years, but could you&lt;br /&gt;make the bear a Christian?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very well", said the voice. As the light went out, the river ran, the sounds of the forest continued and the bear put his paw down. The bear then brought&lt;br /&gt;both paws together, bowed his head, and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lord, I thank you for this food which I am about to receive."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1137816251695378926?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1137816251695378926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1137816251695378926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1137816251695378926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1137816251695378926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/atheist-and-bear.html' title='The Atheist and the Bear.'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7128340287007692771</id><published>2008-06-04T08:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T08:00:02.058-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cooking'/><title type='text'>BBQ Steps</title><content type='html'>It's the only type of cooking a real man will do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The woman buys the food.&lt;br /&gt;2. The woman makes the salad, vegetables, and dessert.&lt;br /&gt;3. The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging&lt;br /&gt;beside the grill -- drink in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the important part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.&lt;br /&gt;He thanks her and asks if she will bring another drink while he deals with the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More routine...&lt;br /&gt;5. The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery. 6) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Important again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More routine.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.&lt;br /&gt;8. After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And most of all....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Everyone PRAISES the man and THANKS him for his cooking efforts.&lt;br /&gt;10. The man asks the woman how she enjoyed "her night off." And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7128340287007692771?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7128340287007692771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7128340287007692771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7128340287007692771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7128340287007692771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/bbq-steps.html' title='BBQ Steps'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-4331768381133982068</id><published>2008-06-02T08:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T08:53:01.012-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Going to Baby Class</title><content type='html'>Going to Baby Class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When our second child was on the way, my wife and I attended a pre-birth class aimed at couples who had already had at least one child. The instructor raised&lt;br /&gt;the issue of breaking the news to the older child. It went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Some parents," she said, "tell the older child, 'We love you so much we decided to bring another child into this family.' But think about that. Ladies,&lt;br /&gt;what if your husband came home one day and said, 'Honey, I love you so much I decided to bring home another wife.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the women spoke up immediately. "Does she cook?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-4331768381133982068?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/4331768381133982068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=4331768381133982068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4331768381133982068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/4331768381133982068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/06/going-to-baby-class.html' title='Going to Baby Class'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1442098925832858555</id><published>2008-05-30T10:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T10:00:04.338-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Puns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>One Day In The Forrest</title><content type='html'>Two robins were sitting on a branch high in a tree. One looked down and saw a field full of worms. Turning to the second bird he said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We ought to go down there and eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good idea," said his friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two of them flew down to the field and ate their fill and then some. When he could eat no more one said to the other, "You know, we ought to stop eating&lt;br /&gt;and fly back to our branch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubbing his belly the second responded, "Yep."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that they tried to fly to their branch in the tree, but they had eaten too much to get off the ground. The second one said, "Maybe we should just stay&lt;br /&gt;here and relax in the sun." Before long the two birds slept, basking in the afternoon sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they slept, a cat happened upon the field. Seeing the birds, sleeping, and oblivious to his presence, the cat pounced. As feathers settled around him,&lt;br /&gt;the cat rubbed his belly, and said...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is nothing better than baskin robbins."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1442098925832858555?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1442098925832858555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1442098925832858555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1442098925832858555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1442098925832858555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/05/one-day-in-forrest.html' title='One Day In The Forrest'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-868198899316778077</id><published>2008-05-28T10:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:58:09.813-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>The Baby Calf</title><content type='html'>A rancher was helping one of his cows give birth, when he noticed his four year-old son standing at the fence, wide-eyed and soaking in the whole event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rancher thought to himself, "Great, now I'm gonna have to start explaining the 'birds and bees.' Well, no need to jump the gun... I'll just let him&lt;br /&gt;ask the questions and I'll answer as best I can."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After everything was over, the rancher walked over to his son and said, "Well, son, do you have any questions?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just one," gasped the still wide-eyed lad. "How fast was that calf going when it hit the cow?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-868198899316778077?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/868198899316778077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=868198899316778077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/868198899316778077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/868198899316778077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/05/baby-calf.html' title='The Baby Calf'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7556657812749406402</id><published>2008-05-26T10:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T10:12:01.797-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men and Women'/><title type='text'>Shopping</title><content type='html'>A husband and wife are shopping in their local Wal-Mart's and the&lt;br /&gt;husband picks up a case of Budweiser and put it in their shopping cart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;”What do you think you're doing?” asks the wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They're on sale, only $10 for 24 cans,” he replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Put them back, we can't afford them,” demands the wife. So he does and&lt;br /&gt;they carry on shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few aisles further on along the woman picks up a $20 jar of face cream&lt;br /&gt;and put it in the shopping cart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What do you think you're doing?” asks the husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Its my face cream. It makes me look beautiful,” replies the wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her husband retorts: “So does 24 cans of Budweiser and its half the price.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7556657812749406402?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7556657812749406402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7556657812749406402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7556657812749406402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7556657812749406402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/05/shopping.html' title='Shopping'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-3866375787202799196</id><published>2008-05-24T10:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:56:38.728-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blondes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cops'/><title type='text'>A Burglarized Blonde</title><content type='html'>Returning home from work, a blonde was shocked to find her house&lt;br /&gt;ransacked and burglarized. She telephoned the police at once and&lt;br /&gt;reported the crime. The police dispatcher broadcast the call over the&lt;br /&gt;police radio, and a K-9 unit patrolling nearby was the first to respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the K-9 officer approached the house with his dog on a leash, the&lt;br /&gt;blonde ran out on the porch, shuddered at the sight of the cop and his&lt;br /&gt;dog, then sat down on the steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting her face in her hands, she moaned, "I come home to find all my&lt;br /&gt;possessions stolen. I call the police for help, and what do they do?&lt;br /&gt;They send me a blind policeman!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-3866375787202799196?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/3866375787202799196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=3866375787202799196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3866375787202799196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/3866375787202799196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/05/burglarized-blonde.html' title='A Burglarized Blonde'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7529256268546829109</id><published>2008-05-20T21:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:55:16.112-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><title type='text'>An Adventure on the Golf Course</title><content type='html'>Gone Golfing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One lovely morning, Ben and Thomas were out golfing. Ben slices his ball deep into a wooded ravine. He grabs his 8-iron and proceeds down the embankment&lt;br /&gt;into the ravine in search of his ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben searches diligently throught the thick underbrush and suddenly he spots something shiny. As he gets closer, he realizes that the shiny object is in&lt;br /&gt;fact an 8-iron in the hands of a skeleton lying near an old golf ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben excitedly calls out to his golfing partner: "Hey Thomas, come here, I got big trouble down here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thomas comes running over to the edge of the ravine and calls out: "What's the matter Ben?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben shouts back in a nervous voice: "Throw me my 7-iron! Looks like you can't get out of here with an 8-iron."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7529256268546829109?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7529256268546829109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7529256268546829109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7529256268546829109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7529256268546829109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/05/adventure-on-golf-course.html' title='An Adventure on the Golf Course'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-7655200248180809172</id><published>2008-05-13T20:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:53:43.131-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teachers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Adventures with A Preschooler</title><content type='html'>It was Sunday morning and little Jeffery sat in his Sunday School classroom. As an attempt to get to know her students a little better, the teacher asked him, "Jeffery, how old are you?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeffery just sat there in silence and timidly held up four fingers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, you are four years old," remarked the teacher. "And when will you be five?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeffery finally opened his mouth and stated the obvious. "When I hold out my thumb." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days, weeks and months passed by and finally the day came. Little Jeffery's mom was tucking him into bed and announced to him. "Tonight you are four years old, but when you wake up in the morning it will be your birthday. Do you know what you will be then?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeffery honestly answered, "I'll be a handful."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time marched on and soon Jeffery was ready for his first day of school. Both his mom and his teacher tried to help him understand what he would be doing all day in his new environment, away from his mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher asked him what he thought his mother would be doing all day with outhim being around at home. His answer was simply, "cartwheels."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-7655200248180809172?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/7655200248180809172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=7655200248180809172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7655200248180809172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/7655200248180809172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/05/adventures-with-preschooler.html' title='Adventures with A Preschooler'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-1822607610865759661</id><published>2008-04-29T11:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:51:38.747-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lawyers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Office'/><title type='text'>Lawyers At the Diner</title><content type='html'>Two attorneys went into a diner and ordered two drinks. Then they produced sandwiches from their briefcases and started to eat. The owner became quite concerned&lt;br /&gt;and marched over and told them, "You can't eat your own sandwiches in here!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The attorneys looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and then exchanged sandwiches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-1822607610865759661?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/1822607610865759661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=1822607610865759661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1822607610865759661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/1822607610865759661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/04/lawyers-at-diner.html' title='Lawyers At the Diner'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104351711499125402.post-6584298505526742820</id><published>2008-04-18T08:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:49:37.631-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Secrets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recreation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Manners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Collection of Kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Family Vacation&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preparing for a family vacation, my sister-in-law and her husband&lt;br /&gt;explained to their young children that they would be sitting in the&lt;br /&gt;car for a very long time. The kids were told they would not be&lt;br /&gt;arriving at their destination until after dark, and were warned not&lt;br /&gt;to keep saying, "Are we there yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes of peaceful driving, their five-year-old daughter&lt;br /&gt;perked up. "Is it dark yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt;New Apartment&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A property manager of single-family residence was showing a unit to&lt;br /&gt;prospective tenants and asking the usual questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Professionally employed?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're a military family," the wife answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Children?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yes, ages nine and twelve," she answered proudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Animals?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no," she said earnestly. "They're very well behaved."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Don't Say That&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Art Linkletters fame grew and kids were interviewed on his show. Parents soon learned to avoid embarrassing moments by coaching kids on what not to say. Art Linkletter discovered this and counteracted by simply asking the kids, "what was it that your parents told you not to say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One boy replied that he wasn't to comment on how bad his breath smelles. Mr. Linkletter asked the boy, "how does my breath smell?" Not to be trapped, the boy answered, "I'd rather not say." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another was asked the same question. His response was that his parents told him to say what ever he wanted. "Just don't get that shirt dirty. I's new, it's too small, and we're taking it back!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the definition of how people have fun. One child volunteered that his parents  have fun. When asked how they had fun, the child simply said, "I don't know. They lock the door and we can't find out." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One girl must have an idea though. She was asked to describe how her parents met. She replied, "My dad was single and had a secretary. He chased her around and around his desk." "What happened then?" asked Mr. Linkletter. "He caught her." "Then what? prompted the host. "Here I am." she stated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6104351711499125402-6584298505526742820?l=robotcomic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/feeds/6584298505526742820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6104351711499125402&amp;postID=6584298505526742820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6584298505526742820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6104351711499125402/posts/default/6584298505526742820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://robotcomic.blogspot.com/2008/04/collection-of-kids.html' title='Collection of Kids'/><author><name>The Blind Business Guy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15726941221862325271</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fPwMTnYJTYk/R3cVJEG2L2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PcApVQCfcAY/S220/keith.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
