<?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-31647375</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:52:06.557-07:00</updated><category term='fishing'/><category term='joke'/><category term='funny'/><category term='clinton'/><category term='iraq'/><category term='soldier'/><category term='osama'/><title type='text'>DondleDog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-357633603533725273</id><published>2008-04-03T02:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T02:45:02.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All right....a few Airline Jokes</title><content type='html'>From a Southwest Airlines employee: "Welcome&lt;br /&gt;aboard Southwest Flight 245 to Tampa. To&lt;br /&gt;operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab&lt;br /&gt;into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just&lt;br /&gt;like every other seat belt; and, if you don't&lt;br /&gt;know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't&lt;br /&gt;be out in public unsupervised."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure,&lt;br /&gt;masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming,&lt;br /&gt;grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you&lt;br /&gt;have a small child traveling with you, secure your&lt;br /&gt;mask before assisting with theirs. If you are&lt;br /&gt;traveling with more than one small child, pick your&lt;br /&gt;favorite."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some&lt;br /&gt;broken clouds, but we'll try to have them fixed before&lt;br /&gt;we arrive. Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you,&lt;br /&gt;or your money, more than Southwest Airlines."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your seat cushions can be used for flotation; and, in&lt;br /&gt;the event of an emergency water landing, please paddle&lt;br /&gt;to shore and take them with our compliments."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-357633603533725273?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/357633603533725273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=357633603533725273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/357633603533725273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/357633603533725273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-righta-few-airline-jokes.html' title='All right....a few Airline Jokes'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-3909899876099992554</id><published>2008-01-20T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T12:02:04.270-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing'/><title type='text'>The Fishing Trip</title><content type='html'>A man was on the water for his weekly fishing trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He began his day with an 8 Lb walleye on the first cast and a 7 Lb on the second. On the third cast he had just caught his first ever walleye over 11 pounds when his cell phone rang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a doctor notifying him that his wife had just been in a terrible accident and was in critical condition and in the ICU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man told the doctor to inform his wife where he was and that he'd be there as soon as possible. As he hung up he realized he was leaving what was shaping up to be his best day ever on the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided to get in a couple of more casts before heading to the hospital.  He ended up fishing the rest of the morning, finishing his trip with a stringer like he'd never seen, with 3 walleye over 10 pounds. He was jubilant.... Then he remembered his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling guilty he dashed to the hospital. He saw the doctor in the corridor and asked about his wife's condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor glared at him and shouted, 'You went ahead and finished your fishing trip didn't you! I hope you're proud of yourself! While you were out for the past four hours enjoying yourself on the pond your wife has been languishing in the ICU! It's just as well you went ahead and finished&lt;br /&gt;because it will be more than likely the last fishing trip you ever take!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'For the rest of her life she will require 'round the clock care. And you'll be her care giver forever!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man was feeling so guilty he broke down and sobbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor then chuckled and said, 'I'm just fuckin' with ya. She's dead.&lt;br /&gt;What'd you catch?'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-3909899876099992554?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/3909899876099992554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=3909899876099992554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/3909899876099992554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/3909899876099992554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2008/01/fishing-trip.html' title='The Fishing Trip'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-1068222272500613006</id><published>2007-10-29T07:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T07:21:34.013-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clinton'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soldier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='osama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iraq'/><title type='text'>Finding Common Ground With Terrorists</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A U.S. Marine squad was marching north of Fallujah when they came upon an Iraqi terrorist, badly injured and unconscious. On the opposite side of the road was an American Marine in a similar but less serious state. The Marine was conscious and alert and as first aid was given to both men, the squad leader asked the injured Marine what had happened.&lt;/blockquote&gt;        &lt;a name="more"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;       &lt;blockquote&gt;The Marine reported, "I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway here, and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent. We saw each other and both took cover in the ditches along the road. I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein was a miserable, lowlife scumbag who got what he deserved, and he yelled back that Ted Kennedy is a fat, good-for-nothing, left wing liberal drunk who doesn't know how to drive. So I said that Osama Bin Ladin dresses and acts like a frigid, mean-spirited lesbian! He retaliated by yelling, "Oh yeah? Well, so does Hillary Clinton!" &lt;p&gt; "And, there we were, in the middle of   the road,  shaking hands,  when&lt;br /&gt;a truck hit us."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thanks to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://mypetjawa.mu.nu/archives/189933.php"&gt;http://mypetjawa.mu.nu/archives/189933.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-1068222272500613006?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/1068222272500613006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=1068222272500613006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/1068222272500613006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/1068222272500613006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/10/finding-common-ground-with-terrorists.html' title='Finding Common Ground With Terrorists'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-6700921268188289537</id><published>2007-09-03T01:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T01:01:55.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a push</title><content type='html'>A man is in bed with his wife when there is a knock on the door. He rolls over and looks at his clock -- it's half-past three in the morning. &lt;p&gt;"I'm not getting out of bed at this time", he thinks, and rolls over. Then, a louder knock follows. "Aren't you going to answer that?" says his wife. So, he drags himself out of bed and goes downstairs. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He opens the door and there is man standing at the door. It didn't take the homeowner long to realize the man was drunk. "Hi there," slurs the stranger, "Can you give me a push?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; "No. Get lost, it's half-past three. I was in bed," says the man and slams the door. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; He goes back up to bed and tells his wife what happened and she says "Dave, that wasn't very nice of you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Remember that night we broke down in the pouring rain on the way to pick the kids up from the baby-sitter and you had to knock on that man's door to get us started again? What would have happened if he'd told us to get lost?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; "But the guy was drunk," says the husband. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; "It doesn't matter," says the wife. "He needs our help and it would be the Christian thing to help him." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, the husband gets out of bed again, gets dressed and goes downstairs. He opens the door and, not being able to see the stranger anywhere he shouts: "Hey, do you still want a push?" and he hears a voice cry out "Yeah please." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; So, still being unable to see the stranger, he shouts: "Where are you?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; And the stranger replies: "I'm over here, on your swing set."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-6700921268188289537?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/6700921268188289537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=6700921268188289537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/6700921268188289537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/6700921268188289537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-need-push.html' title='I need a push'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-1958852643614367361</id><published>2007-07-31T06:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T06:10:14.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I die</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;"When I die, I want to die like my  grandmother who died peacefully in her sleep.  Not screaming like all the passengers in her car." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-1958852643614367361?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/1958852643614367361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=1958852643614367361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/1958852643614367361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/1958852643614367361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-i-die.html' title='When I die'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-859768866936115518</id><published>2007-06-16T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T12:12:39.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bite this</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Ultimate Differential Theory of US Armed Forces (Snake Model)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Upon encountering a snake in the Area of Operations (AO) &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Airborne: Lands on and kills the snake. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Air Force, O-6 and above: "Get that damned snake off the fairway!" &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Armor: Runs over snake. Never knows it,as well as where the tank and the snake is on the battlefield. Continues directly ahead wondering what all those new buttons in his turret do. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Army Aviation: Has GPS ten digit grid to snake. Stands off at a range greater than any other weapon system and destroys snake with precision fires at a cost equivalent of one Mercedes 350SEL. Returns to base for fighter management and a "cool one". &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Army Shrink. Attempts to get snake to explain its sexual feelings about its mother. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Chaplain. Tries to get snake to attend services, mend its ways. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Combat Controllers: Guides snake elsewhere. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Combat Engineer: Studies snake. Prepares in depth analysis based on obscure 5 series FM about how to defeat snake using counter mobility assets. Complains that maneuver forces don't understand how to properly conduct doctrinal counter-snake operations. (Engineer School tries to hide the fact that M9 ACE proves ineffective against snakes). &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Field Artillery: Kills snake with massive Time On Target barrage with three Forward Artillery Brigades in support. Kills several hundred civilians as unavoidable collateral damage. Mission is considered a success and all participants (i.e., cooks, mechanics and clerks) are awarded Silver Stars. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Infantry: Snake smells them, leaves area. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Military Intelligence, G-2: Snake? What snake? Only four of 35 indicators of snake activity are currently active. We assess the potential for snake activity as LOW. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Judge Advocate General (JAG): Snake declines to bite, citing professional courtesy. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Marines, ForceRecon: Follows snake, gets lost. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Marines, Infantry: Kills snake by accident while looking for souvenirs. Local civilians demand removal of all US forces from Area of Operations. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Mech Infantry: Runs over snake, laughs, and looks for more snakes. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Military Intelligence, S-2: Reports to ground troops that snake is a non-combatant. Six Infantry wounded. MI states that if the ground forces would have read the nesting diagram provided in the 24 page enemy intel report, they would have known the snake was a possible threat. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Military Police, Criminal Investigation: Handcuffs snake's head to its tail, reads it its Miranda rights, then proceeds to beat snake to a pulp with night stick. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Missileers, Air Force: Lays in target coordinates to snake in 20 seconds, but can't receive authorization from National Command Authority to use nuclear weapons. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Military Police, Field: Snake safely infiltrates rear area of operations. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Navy SeaBees: Build snake elaborate rec room, complete with secret still. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Navy, SEAL: Expends all ammunition and several grenades, then calls for naval gunfire in failed attempt to kill snake. Snake bites the SEAL, and dies of salt water poisoning. Hollywood makes film in which SEALS kill Muslim extremist snakes. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Navy, Surface Action Group: Fires off 50 cruise missiles fro several ships, kills snake and makes presentation to Senate Appropriations Committee on how Naval forces are the most cost-effective means of anti-snake force projection. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ordnance: IDs snake as having improper scales. Deadline snake and order parts against snake. Parts come in 15 days later but the snake has been upgraded to FMC due to scrounging of parts through improper channels. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Para-Rescue: Lands on snake upon descending, thereby injuring it, then feverishly works to save the snake's life. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, A-10: Has Global Positioning Satellite coordinates to snake. Can't find snake. Returns to base for refuel, crew rest and manicure. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, Air Force, B-52: Pulls ARCLIGHT mission on snake, kills snake and every other living thing within two miles of target. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, Air Force, F-15: Misidentifies snake as enemy Mil-24 Hind helicopter and engages with missiles. Crew chief paints snake kill on aircraft. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, Air Force, F-16: Finds snake, drops two CBU-87 cluster bombs, and misses snake target, but gets direct hit on Embassy 100 KM East of snake due to weather (Too Hot also Too Cold, Was Clear but too overcast, Too dry with Rain, Unlimited ceiling with low cloud cover etc.) Claims that purchasing multimillion dollar, high-tech snake-killing device will enable it in the future to kill all snakes and achieve a revolution in military affairs. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, Air Force, Fighter, Generic: Mis-identifies the snake as a HIND and engages it with missiles. Crew Chief paints snake on airplane. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, Air Force, Transport: Receives call for anti-snake equipment, and delivers two weeks after due date. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, Army, AH-64 Apache: Unable to locate snake, snakes don't show well on infrared. Infrared only operable in desert AO's without power lines or SAM's. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pilot, Army, HH-53 Jolly Green Giant: Finds snake on fourth pass after snake builds bonfire, pops smoke, lays out flares to mark Landing Zone. Rotor wash blows snake into fire. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Quartermaster: Encounters snake, then loses contact. Can not identify who owns snake by hand receipts. Orders new snake through supply channels. Request is denied by higher authority; issuing the unit a snake will bring the manager to a zero balance; one snake must remain on hand at all times as per their boss' guidance. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ranger: Plays with snake, then eats it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Signal, Enlisted: Tries to communicate with snake . . . fails despite repeated attempts. Complains that the snake did not have the correct fill or did not know how to work equipment a child could operate. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Signal, Officer: Informs the commander that he could easily communicate with the snake using just his voice. Commander insists that he NEEDS to videoconference with the snake, with real-time streaming positional and logistical data on the snake displayed on video screens to either side. Gives Signal Corps $5 Billion to make this happen. SigO abuses the 2 smart people in the corps to make it happen, while everybody else stands around, bitches, and takes credit. In the end, GTE and several sub-contractors make a few billion dollars, the two smart people get out and go to work for them, and the commander gets what he asked for only in fiber-optic based simulations. The snake dies of old age. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;SJA: Swear they saw something like that on the Discovery Channel . . . spend weeks arguing if it was a snake or not. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Special Forces: Makes contact with snake, ignores all State Department directives and Theater Commander Rules of Engagement by building rapport with snake and winning its heart and mind. Trains it to kill other snakes. Files enormous travel settlement upon return. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Supply: (NOTICE: Your anti-snake equipment is on backorder.) &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Transportation Corps: "Snake? What snake? We were sleeping in the truck." &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;War Correspondent. Decides snake is patriotic nationalist agrarian reformer being molested by imperialist U.S. forces, asks snake for directions to nearest bar. If bitten by snake, charges U.S. troops with neglect of duty to protect freedom of the press.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-859768866936115518?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/859768866936115518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=859768866936115518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/859768866936115518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/859768866936115518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/06/bite-this.html' title='Bite this'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-4461034640182307276</id><published>2007-04-30T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T04:53:00.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Aging Explorer</title><content type='html'>A young reporter went to a retirement home to interview an aged but legendary explorer. The reporter asked the old man to tell him the most frightening experience he had ever had. &lt;p&gt; The old explorer said, "Once I was hunting Bengal tigers in the jungles of India. I was on a narrow path and my faithful native gunbearer was behind me. Suddenly the largest tiger I have ever seen leaped onto the path in front of us. I turned to get my weapon only to find the native had fled. The tiger leapt toward me with a mighty ROARRRR! I soiled myself." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The reporter said, "Under those circumstances anyone would have done the same."  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The old explorer said, "No, not then - just now when I went ROARRRR!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-4461034640182307276?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/4461034640182307276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=4461034640182307276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/4461034640182307276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/4461034640182307276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/04/aging-explorer.html' title='The Aging Explorer'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-8720350493565980103</id><published>2007-04-07T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T08:15:24.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Phone doesn't work?  Dog howling?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="fb_28_1" class="fpad fb" style="display: block;"&gt;&lt;div id="fb_28_4535115243715279927"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly lady phoned her telephone company to report that her telephone failed to ring when her friends called - and that on the few occasions when it did ring, her pet dog always moaned right before the phone rang. The telephone repairman proceeded to the scene, curious to see this psychic dog or senile elderly lady. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He climbed a nearby telephone pole, hooked in his test set, and dialed the subscriber's house. The phone didn't ring right away, but then the dog moaned loudly and the telephone began to ring. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Climbing down from the pole, the telephone repairman found: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; 1. The dog was tied to the telephone system's ground wire via a steel chain and collar.&lt;br /&gt;2. The wire connection to the ground rod was loose.&lt;br /&gt;3. The dog was receiving 90 volts of signaling current when the phone number was called.&lt;br /&gt;4. After a couple of such jolts, the dog would start moaning and then urinate on himself and the ground.&lt;br /&gt;5. The wet ground would complete the circuit, thus causing the phone  to ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Which demonstrates that some problems CAN be fixed by pissing and  moaning.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-8720350493565980103?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/8720350493565980103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=8720350493565980103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/8720350493565980103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/8720350493565980103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/04/phone-doesnt-work-dog-howling.html' title='Phone doesn&apos;t work?  Dog howling?'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-7053773223206023403</id><published>2007-02-23T05:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T17:09:29.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't mess with Ted</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CD-vtsvbeLg/Rd7xTN-DtYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/k1zKGUCRIMw/s1600-h/bugs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CD-vtsvbeLg/Rd7xTN-DtYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/k1zKGUCRIMw/s320/bugs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034726745916552578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy's homework assignment is to think of a true story with a moral so he goes home and thinks about it all night and finally has one. &lt;p&gt;The following day, Suzy raises her hand first and says, "My dad owns a farm and every Sunday we load the chicken eggs on the truck and drive into town to sell them at the market. Well, one Sunday we hit a big bump and all the eggs flew out of the basket and onto the road." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The teacher asks for the moral to the story. Suzy replies, "Don't put all your eggs in one basket." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next is Lucy. "Well, my dad owns a farm, too, and every weekend we take the chicken eggs and put them in the incubator. Last weekend only 8 of the 12 eggs hatched. The moral is, don't count your chicks before they are hatched.'' &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Billy is last to speak. He says, ''My uncle Ted fought in the Vietnam War. His plane was shot down over enemy territory. He jumped out before it crashed, with only a parachute, a bottle of bourbon, a machine gun, and a machete. As he floated down he drank the bottle of bourbon. Unfortunately, he landed right in the middle of 100 North Vietnamese soldiers. He shot 70 with his machine gun, but ran out of bullets so he pulled out his machete and killed 20 more. The blade broke on his machete, so he killed the last 10 with his bare hands.'' &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; The teacher looks in shock at Billy and asks if there is possibly any moral to his story. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Billy replies, "Don't f**k with my Uncle Ted when he's been drinking.''&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-7053773223206023403?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/7053773223206023403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=7053773223206023403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/7053773223206023403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/7053773223206023403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/02/dont-mess-with-ted.html' title='Don&apos;t mess with Ted'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CD-vtsvbeLg/Rd7xTN-DtYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/k1zKGUCRIMw/s72-c/bugs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-4141029681358792128</id><published>2007-01-21T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T12:31:05.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1st Parachute jump</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;A young soldier was making his first parachute jump.&lt;br /&gt;The jumpmaster explained the procedure "You count to&lt;br /&gt;ten and pull the ripcord. If the chute doesn't&lt;br /&gt;open, pull the spare. That'll do it. Then, after&lt;br /&gt;you land, there'll be a truck waiting to pick you up."&lt;br /&gt;The soldier checked his gear, called out the customary&lt;br /&gt;"Geronimo!" and jumped out of the plane. He counted to&lt;br /&gt;ten and pulled the ripcord. The chute failed to open.&lt;br /&gt;He pulled the second ripcord and the chute still didn't&lt;br /&gt;open. As he plummeted downward, he said, "I'll bet that&lt;br /&gt;damn truck won't be there either!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-4141029681358792128?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/4141029681358792128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=4141029681358792128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/4141029681358792128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/4141029681358792128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2007/01/1st-parachute-jump.html' title='1st Parachute jump'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-116057274191906225</id><published>2006-10-11T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T06:19:01.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>None of that Sissy Crap</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;None of that Sissy Crap&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Are you tire of those "friendship" poems that always sound good, but never actually come close to reality?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here is a series of promises that actually speak of true friendship.  You will see no cutesy little smiley faces on this card- just the stone cold truth of our great friendship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.&lt;br /&gt;2.  When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.&lt;br /&gt;3.  When you smile -- I will know you finally got laid.&lt;br /&gt;4.  When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every chance I get.&lt;br /&gt;5.  When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be until you quit whining.&lt;br /&gt;6.  When you are confused -- I will use little words.&lt;br /&gt;7.  When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are well again.  I don't want whatever you have.&lt;br /&gt;8.  When you fall -- I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Send this to 10 of your closest friends, then get depressed because you can only think of 4.&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is like peeing your pants, everyone can see it, but only you can feel it's true warmth.&lt;br /&gt;And always remember....When life hands you Lemons, ask for Tequila and salt and call me over!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;(emailed to Lisa from Nicole P)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-116057274191906225?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/116057274191906225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=116057274191906225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/116057274191906225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/116057274191906225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2006/10/none-of-that-sissy-crap.html' title='None of that Sissy Crap'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31647375.post-115385026614937653</id><published>2006-07-25T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T10:57:46.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to DondleDog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5684/669/1600/100_0914.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5684/669/320/100_0914.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a "guard dog"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5684/669/1600/100_0914.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5684/669/320/100_0914.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Right now he is "Guarding"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5684/669/1600/100_0914.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5684/669/320/100_0914.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If you look really really close you can see him working&lt;br /&gt;You missed it.  Look really really really fast or he may appear to be sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;This guard dog is smart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for visiting. This blog is created solely for fun, smiles, laughs, jokes, nice things, and probably a lot of SARCASM. A laugh each day will do wonders for your temperment, and yes, well placed sarcasm can lead to multiple &lt;strong&gt;ha ha's&lt;/strong&gt; if presented at the right time.   Join in.  Add your jokes or funny comments.  Keep it clean children are present.  Check back often, it could make your day a little bit easier to live in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31647375-115385026614937653?l=dondledog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/feeds/115385026614937653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31647375&amp;postID=115385026614937653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/115385026614937653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31647375/posts/default/115385026614937653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dondledog.blogspot.com/2006/07/welcome-to-dondledog.html' title='Welcome to DondleDog'/><author><name>"Pa" Harris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08728122402611045486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/57/6094/320/PaDonnie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
