<?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-16604200</id><updated>2011-12-14T21:56:35.491-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Babble</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113284377116794994</id><published>2005-11-24T09:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T09:54:21.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/turkey.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/turkey.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twas the night before Thanksgiving and in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Strange dreams in my mind, began to creep &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving leftovers beckoned --- The dark meat and white,&lt;br /&gt;But I fought the temptation with all of my might. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tossing and turning with anticipation......&lt;br /&gt;The thought of a snack became infatuation..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to the kitchen I did race, Flung open the door,&lt;br /&gt;And gazed at the fridge full of goodies galore&lt;br /&gt;I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes,&lt;br /&gt;Pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt myself swelling so plump and so round,&lt;br /&gt;Till all of a sudden, I rose off the ground! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crashed through the ceiling. Floating into the sky....&lt;br /&gt;With a mouthful l of pudding and a handful of pie,&lt;br /&gt;But I managed to yell as I soared past the trees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY EATING TO ALL!&lt;br /&gt;PASS THE CRANBERRIES PLEASE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113284377116794994?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113284377116794994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113284377116794994&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113284377116794994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113284377116794994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/11/twas-night-before-thanksgiving.html' title='Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113108384109241623</id><published>2005-11-04T00:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T00:59:42.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Reason,Season,Lifetime</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/Cutie_45.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/Cutie_45.0.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A REASON,A SEASON,OR A LIFTEIME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.  When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed outwardly or inwardly.  They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually.  They may seem like a godsend, and they are.  They are there for the reason you need them to be.  Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.  Sometimes they die.  Sometimes they walk away.  Sometimes they act up or out and force you to take a stand.  What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled;  their work is done.  The prayer you sent up has been answered and it is now time to move on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people come into your life for a SEASON, it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn.  They may bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.  They may teach you something you have never done.  They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.  Believe it!  It is real!  But, only for a season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; those things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.  Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person/people (anyway);  and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.  It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113108384109241623?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113108384109241623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113108384109241623&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113108384109241623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113108384109241623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/11/reasonseasonlifetime.html' title='A Reason,Season,Lifetime'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113077421240564133</id><published>2005-10-31T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T10:59:58.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S HALLOWEEN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/Image4.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/Image4.0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Halloween! It's Halloween!&lt;br /&gt;The moon is full and bright&lt;br /&gt;And we shall see what can't be seen&lt;br /&gt;On any other night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeletons and ghosts and ghouls,&lt;br /&gt;Grinning goblins fighting duels,&lt;br /&gt;Werewolves rising from their tombs,&lt;br /&gt;Witches on their magic brooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In masks and gowns&lt;br /&gt;we haunt the street&lt;br /&gt;And knock on doors&lt;br /&gt;for trick or treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we are&lt;br /&gt;the king and queen,&lt;br /&gt;For oh tonight&lt;br /&gt;it's Halloween!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113077421240564133?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113077421240564133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113077421240564133&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113077421240564133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113077421240564133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/its-halloween_113077421240564133.html' title='IT&apos;S HALLOWEEN!'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113035073397816832</id><published>2005-10-26T13:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T13:18:53.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>710</title><content type='html'>A few days ago I was having some work done at the local Ford Dealership. A blonde came in and asked for a seven-hundred-ten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all looked at each other and another customer asked, "What is a seven-hundred-ten?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replied, "You know, the little piece in the middle of the engine, I have lost it and need a new one." She said that she did not know what it was but this piece had always been there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave her a piece of paper and a pen and asked her to draw what the piece looked like. She drew a circle and in the middle of it wrote 710. He then took her over to another car, which had its hood up and asked, "Is there a 710 on this car?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pointed and said, "Of course, it's right "there." &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/oil21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/200/oil2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113035073397816832?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113035073397816832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113035073397816832&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113035073397816832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113035073397816832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/710.html' title='710'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113035035999760651</id><published>2005-10-26T13:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T13:13:33.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Riding Bareback</title><content type='html'>A young woman from New York was driving through a remote part of Texas when her car broke down. An American Indian on horseback soon came along and offered her a ride to a nearby town. She climbed up behind him on the horse and they rode off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride was uneventful, except that every few minutes the Indian would shout out a wild "Ye-e-e-e-e-ha-a-a-" so loud that it echoed off the surrounding hills. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they arrived in town, he let her off at the local service station, she expressed her thanks, and he yelled a final "Ye-e-e-e-e-ha-a-a!" and rode off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why was that Indian so excited?" asked the service station attendant. "I don't know. I just rode behind him on the horse with my arms around his waist and holding onto the saddle horn so that I wouldn't fall off," the woman answered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lady," the attendant said, "Indians don't use saddles."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113035035999760651?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113035035999760651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113035035999760651&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113035035999760651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113035035999760651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/riding-bareback.html' title='Riding Bareback'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113022208579176944</id><published>2005-10-25T01:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-25T01:39:12.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The House Behind The House</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/85997932.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px;" src="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/85997932.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The House Behind The House One of my bygone recollections, as I recall the days of yore is the little house, behind the house, with the crescent o'er the door.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;'Twas a place to sit and ponder with your head bowed down so low, knowing that you wouldn't be there, if you didn't have to go.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ours was a three-holer, with a size for every one.  You left there feeling better after the job was done.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;YOU had to make these frequent trips, whether snow, rain, sleet, or fog, to the little house where you sat and read the Sears Roebuck catalog.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Oft times in dead of winter the seat was covered with snow.  'Twas then with much reluctance to the little house you'd go.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;With a swish you'd clear the seat, bend low and, with shivers in mind, you'd blink your eyes and grit your teeth as you sat on your behind.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I recall the day that Granddad, who stayed with us one summer, made a trip to the shanty which proved to be a hummer.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;'Twas the same day my Dad finished painting the kitchen green.  He'd just cleaned up the mess he'd made with rags and gasoline.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He tossed the rags in the shanty hole and went on his usual way, not knowing that by doing so he would eventually rue the day.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;NOW Granddad had an urgent call; I never will forget!  This trip he made to the little house lingers in my memory yet.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He sat down on the shanty seat, with both feet on the floor, then filled his pipe with tobacco and struck a match on the outhouse door.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As he took a long puff on his pipe, he slowly raised his behind, tossed the flaming match in the open hole, with not a worry on his mind.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;THE blast that followed, I am sure was heard for miles around; and there was poor ol' Granddad just sitting on the ground.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The smoldering pipe was still in his mouth, his suspenders he held tight; the celebrated three-holer was blown clear out of sight.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When we asked him what had happened, his answer I'll never forget.  He thought it must of been something he had et!&lt;br /&gt;NEXT day we had a new one which my Dad built with ease.  With a sign on the entrance door which read: No Smoking, Please!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113022208579176944?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113022208579176944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113022208579176944&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113022208579176944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113022208579176944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/house-behind-house.html' title='The House Behind The House'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113012167727708167</id><published>2005-10-23T21:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T13:32:37.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God Is Watching</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/COUNTRY07.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/COUNTRY07.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Is Watching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up at the head table in the cafeteria, one of the nuns had placed a big&lt;br /&gt;bowl of bright red, fresh, juicy apples. Beside the bowl, she placed a&lt;br /&gt;note which read, "Take only one. Remember, God is watching."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the other end of the table was a bowl full of freshly baked chocolate&lt;br /&gt;chip cookies, still warm from the oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beside the bowl, a little note scrawled in a child's handwriting which&lt;br /&gt;read, "Take all you want. God's watching the apples."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113012167727708167?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113012167727708167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113012167727708167&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113012167727708167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113012167727708167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/god-is-watching_23.html' title='God Is Watching'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-113012150720555831</id><published>2005-10-23T21:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T21:38:27.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging Here</title><content type='html'>My main blog is at Tblog,yes I know it sure has its share of glitches and sometimes it seems like every 10 minutes we get that error message that they are fixing issues,but to be honest I really love blogging there..the people are friendly,we can make alot of changes to our blogs that we can't do here..and I get sooo many comments each day on my post,unlike here..where I feel like I am completely isolated from the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I am saying is I won't give up my true blog at tblog,but will try to update here and hope that some people start to realize I do have a blog here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Blogging Everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-113012150720555831?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/113012150720555831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=113012150720555831&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113012150720555831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/113012150720555831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/blogging-here.html' title='Blogging Here'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112960807364997714</id><published>2005-10-17T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T23:08:21.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/C051001A%286%292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/C051001A%286%292.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you ever have one of those weekends where everything just seemed so right.Like everything went so good for you that you felt all tingly and good inside?Well I had one of those weekends and the reason was I got a new car!It's not brand new but very new to me.I bought a Black 2003 Dodge Neon SXT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my old Ford(Betsy)was really over her limit for getting me to and from where I needed to go.With over 130,000 miles she was beginning to slip when trying to shift her gears and as a matter of fact I had the transmission checked out and it was going to cost me over $1,200.00 to repair,then shortly after having that checked,poor Betsy decided she didn't like her oil anymore and developed a nice puddle no matter where I parked.This of course meant every couple of days I would have to add oil and then my car would start to smoke.Looked like some Indian was under the hood sending out smoke signals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of me is sad I had to part with my Betsy,but she was beyond her years and gave me alot of good rides and good milage.&lt;br /&gt;I have now moved on to a better car and I am just so happy,that is till I maked the first car payment next month..lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now you know why I am just so happy and felt the weekend was really a great one for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112960807364997714?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112960807364997714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112960807364997714&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112960807364997714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112960807364997714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/great-weekend.html' title='Great Weekend'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112939487888075462</id><published>2005-10-15T11:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T11:48:45.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Pumpkin To Another</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/fall.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/fall.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One Pumpkin To Another&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman was asked by a coworker, "What is it like to be a Christian?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coworker replied, "It is like being a pumpkin." God picks you from the patch, brings you in, and washes all the dirt off of you.  Then He cuts off the top and scoops out all the yucky stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He removes the seeds of doubt, hate, and greed. Then He carves you a new smiling face and puts His light inside of you to shine for all the world to see." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was passed on to me by another pumpkin. Now it's your turn to pass it to other pumpkins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked this enough to send it to all the pumpkins in my patch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112939487888075462?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112939487888075462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112939487888075462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112939487888075462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112939487888075462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/one-pumpkin-to-another.html' title='One Pumpkin To Another'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112857169829507563</id><published>2005-10-05T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T23:08:18.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Custom Of Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/witch-023.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/witch-023.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Halloween is an annual celebration, but just what is it actually a celebration of? And how did this peculiar custom originate? Is it, as some claim, a kind of demon worship? Or is it just a harmless vestige of some ancient pagan ritual? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The word itself, "Halloween," actually has its origins in the Catholic Church. It comes from a contracted corruption of All Hallows Eve. November 1, "All Hollows Day" (or "All Saints Day"), is a Catholic day of observance in honor of saints. But, in the 5th century BC, in Celtic Ireland, summer officially ended on October 31. The holiday was called Samhain (sow-en), the Celtic New year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One story says that, on that day, the disembodied spirits of all those who had died throughout the preceding year would come back in search of living bodies to possess for the next year. It was believed to be their only hope for the afterlife. The Celts believed all laws of space and time were suspended during this time, allowing the spirit world to intermingle with the living. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, the still-living did not want to be possessed. So on the night of October 31, villagers would extinguish the fires in their homes, to make them cold and undesirable. They would then dress up in all manner of ghoulish costumes and noisily paraded around the neighborhood, being as destructive as possible in order to frighten away spirits looking for bodies to possess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably a better explanation of why the Celts extinguished their fires was not to discourage spirit possession, but so that all the Celtic tribes could relight their fires from a common source, the Druidic fire that was kept burning in the Middle of Ireland, at Usinach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some accounts tell of how the Celts would burn someone at the stake who was thought to have already been possessed, as sort of a lesson to the spirits. Other accounts of Celtic history debunk these stories as myth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Romans adopted the Celtic practices as their own. But in the first century AD, Samhain was assimilated into celebrations of some of the other Roman traditions that took place in October, such as their day to honor Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit and trees. The symbol of Pomona is the apple, which might explain the origin of our modern tradition of bobbing for apples on Halloween. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thrust of the practices also changed over time to become more ritualized. As belief in spirit possession waned, the practice of dressing up like hobgoblins, ghosts, and witches took on a more ceremonial role. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The custom of Halloween was brought to America in the 1840's by Irish immigrants fleeing their country's potato famine. At that time, the favorite pranks in New England included tipping over outhouses and unhinging fence gates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The custom of trick-or-treating is thought to have originated not with the Irish Celts, but with a ninth-century European custom called souling. On November 2, All Souls Day, early Christians would walk from village to village begging for "soul cakes," made out of square pieces of bread with currants. The more soul cakes the beggars would receive, the more prayers they would promise to say on behalf of the dead relatives of the donors. At the time, it was believed that the dead remained in limbo for a time after death, and that prayer, even by strangers, could expedite a soul's passage to heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The Jack-o-lantern custom probably comes from Irish folklore. As the tale is told, a man named Jack, who was notorious as a drunkard and trickster, tricked Satan into climbing a tree. Jack then carved an image of a cross in the tree's trunk, trapping the devil up the tree. Jack made a deal with the devil that, if he would never tempt him again, he would promise to let him down the tree. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the folk tale, after Jack died, he was denied entrance to Heaven because of his evil ways, but he was also denied access to Hell because he had tricked the devil. Instead, the devil gave him a single ember to light his way through the frigid darkness. The ember was placed inside a hollowed-out turnip to keep it glowing longer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Irish used turnips as their "Jack's lanterns" originally. But when the immigrants came to America, they found that pumpkins were far more plentiful than turnips. So the Jack-O-Lantern in America was a hollowed-out pumpkin, lit with an ember. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So, although some cults may have adopted Halloween as their favorite "holiday," the day itself did not grow out of evil practices. It grew out of the rituals of Celts celebrating a new year, and out of Medieval prayer rituals of Europeans. And today, even many churches have Halloween parties or pumpkin carving events for the kids. After all, the day itself is only as evil as one cares to make it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112857169829507563?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112857169829507563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112857169829507563&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112857169829507563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112857169829507563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/custom-of-halloween.html' title='Custom Of Halloween'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112827391519055205</id><published>2005-10-02T12:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T00:09:00.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things We Need To Know About Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/mansface.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/mansface.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things We Need To Now About Men&lt;br /&gt;1. Men like to barbecue. Men will cook if danger is involved.&lt;br /&gt;2. Men who have pierced ears are better prepared for marriage. They've experienced pain and bought jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;3. Marrying a divorced man is ecologically responsible. In a world where there are more women than men, it pays to recycle.&lt;br /&gt;4. Men are very confident people. My husband is so confident that when he watches sports on television, he thinks that if he concentrates he can help his team. If the team is in trouble, he coaches the players from our living room, and if they're really in trouble, I have to get off the phone in case they call him.&lt;br /&gt;5. Men like phones with lots of buttons. It makes them feel important.&lt;br /&gt;6. Men love to be the first to read the newspaper in the morning. Not being the first is upsetting to their psyches.&lt;br /&gt;7. All men are afraid of eyelash curlers. So sleep with one under your pillow, instead of a gun.&lt;br /&gt;8. A good place to meet a man is at the dry cleaner. These men usually have jobs and bathe.&lt;br /&gt;9. All men hate to hear, "We need to talk about our relationship." These seven words strike fear in the heart of even General Schwarzkopf.&lt;br /&gt;10. Men are sensitive in strange ways. If a man has built a fire and the last log does not burn, he will take it personally.&lt;br /&gt;11. Men have an easier time buying bathing suits. Women have two types: depressing and more depressing. Men have two types: nerdy and not nerdy.&lt;br /&gt;12. Men have higher body temperatures than women. If your heating goes out in winter, I recommend sleeping next to a man. Men are like portable heaters that snore.&lt;br /&gt;13. Women take clothing much more seriously than men. I've never seen a man walk into a party and say "Oh, my God, I'm so embarrassed; get me out of here. There's another man wearing a black tuxedo."&lt;br /&gt;14. Most men hate to shop. That's why the men's department is usually on the first floor of a department store, two inches from the door.&lt;br /&gt;15. If a man prepares dinner for you and the salad contains three or more types of lettuce, you should be worried about him.&lt;br /&gt;16. No man is charming all of the time. Even Cary Grant is on record saying he wished he could be Cary Grant.&lt;br /&gt;17. When four or more men get together, they talk about sports.&lt;br /&gt;18. When four or more women get together, they talk about men.&lt;br /&gt;19. Men are less sentimental than women. No man has ever seen the movie "The Way We Were" twice, voluntarily.&lt;br /&gt;20. Most women are introspective: "Am I in love? Am I emotionally and creatively fulfilled?" Most men are outrospective: "Did my team win? How's my car?"&lt;br /&gt;21. If a man says, "I'll call you," and he doesn't, he didn't forget. He didn't lose your number. He didn't die. He just didn't want to call you.&lt;br /&gt;22. Getting rid of a man without hurting his masculinity is a problem. "Get out" and "I never want to see you again" might sound like a challenge. If you want to get rid of a man, I suggest saying, "I love you; I want to marry you; I want to have your children." Sometimes they leave so fast, they leave skid marks.&lt;br /&gt;23. Men are self confident because they grow up identifying with super heroes. Women have bad self images because they grow up identifying with Barbie.&lt;br /&gt;24. Male menopause is a lot more fun than female menopause. With female menopause you gain weight and get hot flashes. With male menopause, you get to date young girls and drive motorcycles.&lt;br /&gt;25. Men forget everything; women remember everything. That's why men need instant replays in sports. They've already forgotten what happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112827391519055205?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112827391519055205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112827391519055205&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112827391519055205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112827391519055205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/things-we-need-to-know-about-men.html' title='Things We Need To Know About Men'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112822942964798647</id><published>2005-10-02T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T00:30:01.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebs Without Makeup</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/1600/200-celebmakeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6002/1580/320/200-celebmakeup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well I thought that I would share these pictures of some famous celebs..and just show you that they are no different than you or I. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112822942964798647?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112822942964798647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112822942964798647&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112822942964798647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112822942964798647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/celebs-without-makeup.html' title='Celebs Without Makeup'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112822880994829444</id><published>2005-10-01T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T23:53:29.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging</title><content type='html'>Well my home blog at tblog is finally working good.They have corrected the error we all had on our blogs and things are running faster lately and not many spammers.Maybe the owner opened his eyes when he started losing good members,especially the pro users who pay to use the site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the reason I am glad things are working better,but some of my good friends that were extremely tired of it all and left to come here...I miss very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to post here from time to time,but my heart really belongs at tblog and I am so used to being able to create my blog the way that I like it.I am sure if I really take the time here I could eventually get this blog to the way I would like it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will see,so for now my main blog is still at tblog and I hope you will still drop by there and check my daily funnies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112822880994829444?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112822880994829444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112822880994829444&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112822880994829444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112822880994829444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/10/blogging.html' title='Blogging'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112802611619651783</id><published>2005-09-29T15:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T21:53:35.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Tattoes...Useless Facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/370-uglytattoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/370-uglytattoo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/350-tattooface.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/350-tattooface.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/252-spidermanfreak2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/252-spidermanfreak2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In 1681, the last dodo bird died.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dolphins don't automatically breath; they have to tell themselves to do it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Termites are affected by music. They will eat your house twice as fast if you play loud music.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The citrus soda 7-UP was created in 1929; "7" was selected because the original containers were 7 ounces. "UP" indicated the direction of the bubbles. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first Ford cars had Dodge engines.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Diet Coke was only invented in 1982. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The world's largest McDonalds is located on I-44 at Vinita, Oklahoma.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A broken clock is right at least twice a day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;American car horns beep in the tone of F. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No piece of paper can be folded more than 7 times.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Donkeys kill more people annually than plane crashes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1 in every 4 Americans has appeared on television.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The fist product to have a bar code was Wrigleys gum.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The electric chair was invented by a dentist. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The largest toy distributor in the world is McDonald's.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In 1933, Mickey Mouse, an animated cartoon character, received 800,000 fan letters. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Less than 3% of Nestle's sales are for chocolate. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;More than 2,500 left handed people are killed every year from using right handed products. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112802611619651783?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112802611619651783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112802611619651783&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112802611619651783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112802611619651783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/09/weird-tattoesuseless-facts.html' title='Weird Tattoes...Useless Facts'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16604200.post-112802115447171683</id><published>2005-09-29T14:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T14:12:34.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Well since blogging and having problems with my other blogging site I like many other friends have decided to create a new blog here at blogger.I hope that I will be happy here,and will continue to post my funny pictures,jokes,interesting facts and other cool stuff I come across in my internet travels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I hope that my friends will continue to read my post and have a laugh a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16604200-112802115447171683?l=funnybabble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/feeds/112802115447171683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16604200&amp;postID=112802115447171683&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112802115447171683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16604200/posts/default/112802115447171683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://funnybabble.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-new-blog.html' title='My New Blog'/><author><name>Funnygurly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10730110290061243929</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a50/sweetsue26/candybardoll2.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
