<?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-3646191102846376313</id><updated>2011-09-26T11:57:33.237+05:30</updated><category term='Aussie'/><category term='Hell'/><category term='Devil'/><category term='charity'/><category term='God'/><category term='Harrison Ford'/><category term='Pearly Gates'/><category term='priest'/><category term='Charlize-Theron'/><category term='Easter'/><category term='grateful-dead'/><category term='Heaven'/><category term='St.Peter'/><category term='lawyer'/><category term='humor'/><title type='text'>Jest A While</title><subtitle type='html'>A bizarre and humorous collection of anecdotes</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5247640723439647447</id><published>2009-06-22T18:00:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:01:54.560+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Pakistani On The Moon</title><content type='html'>With due apologies to Pakistan and Pakistanis..... and congratulations on winning the T20 World Cup.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What do you call 1 Pakistani on the moon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Problem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What do you call 10 Pakistanis on the moon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Problem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What do you call a 100 Pakistanis on the moon? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Problem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What do you call ALL the Pakistanis on the moon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: ...... Problem Solved!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5247640723439647447?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5247640723439647447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5247640723439647447&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5247640723439647447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5247640723439647447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/06/pakistani-on-moon.html' title='Pakistani On The Moon'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-8328045795914284653</id><published>2009-06-22T17:55:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:00:22.838+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Girl And The Dog</title><content type='html'>A man is! taking a walk in Central park in New York . Suddenly he sees a little girl being attacked by a pit bull dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He runs over and starts fighting with the dog. He succeeds in killing the dog and saving the girl's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A policeman who was watching the scene walks over and says: "You are a hero, tomorrow you can read it in all the newspapers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brave New Yorker saves the life of little girl".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says: "But I am not a New Yorker!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh then it will say in newspapers in the morning: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brave American saves life of little girl" the policeman answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I am not an American!" - says the man. Oh, what are you then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says: "I am a Pakistani!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the newspapers say: "Extremist kills innocent American dog"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-8328045795914284653?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/8328045795914284653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=8328045795914284653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8328045795914284653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8328045795914284653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/06/girl-and-dog.html' title='The Girl And The Dog'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7541570858889986368</id><published>2009-03-30T18:00:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:08:46.170+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Try And Crack The Moral To This Story</title><content type='html'>Once there was a bus conductor, who was very rude to his passengers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a beautiful young girl, of around 18 years, tried to board the bus, but he didn't stop the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately the beautiful young girl came under the bus and died on the spot. Angry passengers took the conductor to the police station, who in turn took him to the court. The judge was not at all impressed with him and gave him capital punishment. He was taken to the electrocution chamber. There was a single chair in the center of the room and a single banana peel at one corner of the room. The conductor was strapped to the chair and high voltage current was given to him. But to everyone's amazement, he survived. The judge decided to set him free, and he returned to his profession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few months, this time, a good looking middle aged woman tried to board the bus but the conductor didn't stop the bus. Unfortunately, this time also, the good looking middle aged woman came under the bus and died on the spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again angry passengers took him to the police station, who in turn took him to the court. The judge took one look at the conductor and gave him capital punishment. The Bus conductor was taken to the same electrocution chamber where there was a single chair in the center of the room and a single banana peel at one corner of the room. He was strapped to the chair and high voltage current was given to him. This time also to everyone's amazement, he survived. The judge decided to set him free, and he returned to his profession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of months later, an elderly gentleman tried to board the bus. This time the bus conductor, remembering his earlier experiences, stopped the bus. Unfortunately the elderly gentleman slipped and died due to his injuries. The conductor was taken to the police station and then to the court, to the same judge. Though he hadn't done anything wrong, but considering his past record the judge decided to set an example and gave him capital punishment. The Bus conductor was again taken to the same electrocution chamber where there was a single chair in the center of the room and a single banana peel at one corner of the room. He was strapped to the chair and high voltage current was given to him. This time he died instantly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is why didn't he die on the first two occasions, but die instantly the third time??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to solve it yourselves. This is rather interesting and answer is perfectly logical. If necessary read the puzzle once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can't find a moral to this story....then read on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the first two times, the conductor acted like a bad conductor and hence the  electricity was not able to pass through him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But however during the third time, he behaved like a good conductor and hence the electricity passed through him quickly thereby killing him instantly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duh !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7541570858889986368?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7541570858889986368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7541570858889986368&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7541570858889986368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7541570858889986368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/03/try-and-crack-moral-to-this-story.html' title='Try And Crack The Moral To This Story'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-3567036150637881917</id><published>2009-03-20T17:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-22T17:55:43.098+05:30</updated><title type='text'>11th Sept - India</title><content type='html'>Vajpayee and Bush are sitting in a bar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy walks in and asks the barman, "Hey, isn't that Bush and Vajpayee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The barman says "Yep, that's them." So the guy walks over and says, "Hello, what are you guys doing?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bush says, "We're planning on World War III"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, "Really? What's going to happen?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Vajpayee says, "Well, we're going to kill 14 million Pakistanis and one bicycle repairman." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the guy exclaimed, "A bicycle repairman?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vajpayee turns to Bush and says, "See, I told you no-one would worry about the 14 million Pakistanis!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-3567036150637881917?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/3567036150637881917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=3567036150637881917&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3567036150637881917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3567036150637881917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/03/11th-sept-india.html' title='11th Sept - India'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5369664182827642742</id><published>2009-03-20T17:49:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-22T17:52:19.368+05:30</updated><title type='text'>11th Sept - Pakistan</title><content type='html'>Musharraf calls President Bush on 11th Sept and says - Mr President, I would like to express my deep condolences to you. This is a real tragedy. So many people, such great buildings and so much loss... I would like to ensure that we had nothing in connection with that..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bush says what buildings? What people??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Musharraf responds.... Oh, and what time is it in America now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bush says it's about eight in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Musharraf curses and says oops...will call back in an hour!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5369664182827642742?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5369664182827642742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5369664182827642742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5369664182827642742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5369664182827642742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/03/11th-sept-pakistan.html' title='11th Sept - Pakistan'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-1859988959391825632</id><published>2009-03-20T17:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-22T17:49:19.635+05:30</updated><title type='text'>11th Sept - China</title><content type='html'>The prime Minister of The People Republic Of China called on President Bush to console him after the dastardly attack on the Pentagon.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry to hear about the attack. It is a very big tragedy. However, should you need copies or you are missing any documents from the Pentagon, we have copies of everything."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-1859988959391825632?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/1859988959391825632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=1859988959391825632&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1859988959391825632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1859988959391825632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/03/11th-sept-china.html' title='11th Sept - China'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-3596349681838260773</id><published>2009-03-10T16:22:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-05T16:23:11.477+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Arab And The Genie</title><content type='html'>An Arab had just spent many days crossing the desert without water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His camel had died of thirst and he was crawling through the sands, certain that the end was close when all of a sudden he sees a shiny object sticking out of the sand several yards ahead of him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He crawls to the object, pulls it out of the sand, and discovers what looks to be an ash tray from an old car. He opens it and out pops a genie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this apparently is no ordinary genie. He is wearing a polka dot bow tie and a sport coat with a dog-eared little book in the breast pocket with a blue cover and has a pencil tucked behind one ear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, kid," says the genie. "You know how it works. You have three wishes." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not falling for this." says the man. "I'm not going to trust a used car salesman!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What have you got to lose?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've got no transportation, and it looks like you're a goner anyway!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The man thinks about this for a minute, and decides that the genie is right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, I wish I were in a lush oasis with plentiful food and drink." ***POOF*** The man finds himself in the most beautiful oasis he has ever seen. And he is surrounded with jugs of wine and platters of delicacies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, kid, what's your second wish." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My second wish is that I was rich beyond my wildest dreams." ***POOF*** The Arab finds himself surrounded by treasure chests filled with rare gold coins and precious gems." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, kid, you have just one more wish. Better make it a good one!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After thinking for a few minutes, the Arab says: "I wish that no matter where I go, a beautiful woman will want and need me." ***POOF*** He's turned into a tampon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the story? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a used car salesman offers you anything at no cost, there's always going to be a string attached somewhere!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-3596349681838260773?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/3596349681838260773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=3596349681838260773&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3596349681838260773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3596349681838260773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/03/arab-and-genie.html' title='The Arab And The Genie'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-4622395722481025179</id><published>2009-02-03T22:10:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:10:51.361+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>The Pastor's Ass</title><content type='html'>The pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won. The pastor was so Pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and it won again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The local paper read: PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the local paper headline read: BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the pastor to get rid of the donkey The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day: NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bishop fainted. He informed the nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the paper read: NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the headlines read: NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bishop was buried the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The moral of the story&lt;/strong&gt; is....that being concerned about public opinion can bring you much grief and misery...&lt;br /&gt;So be yourself and enjoy... Stop worrying about everyone else's ass and you'll be a lot happier and live longer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-4622395722481025179?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/4622395722481025179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=4622395722481025179&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/4622395722481025179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/4622395722481025179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/02/pastors-ass.html' title='The Pastor&apos;s Ass'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5430825489956586932</id><published>2009-01-26T22:12:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:12:54.771+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>The Importance Of Laughter</title><content type='html'>The most powerful thing we’re given is our ability to laugh. It’s our greatest gift, especially if we can “laugh at ourselves” and not take ourselves so seriously&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you make fun of what frightens you, you get a mastery over it and gain control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So go ahead, act silly. Let yourself act silly and share it. Laughter is contagious So, when you’re happy and you’re laughing it rubs off on people as everyone has a sense of humor, although few use it to the maximum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you throw your head back and laugh, you’re not thinking of anything else. Laughter is the best thing you can do for your health. So, the old saying that 'laughter is the best medicine' definitely appears to be true. So, go ahead and just appreciate the importance of laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a beautiful spring day and a man and his wife are at the zoo. She's got on a close-fitting, low-cut, summer dress with spaghetti straps. As they walk thru the ape exhibit, and pass in front of a very large gorilla which goes ape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He jumps up on the bars, he grunts, he pounds his chest. He is obviously excited at the sight of the young lady in the sundress. The husband, noticing the ape’s excitement, suggests that his wife tease the ape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband suggests that she pucker her lips and wiggle her bottom.... She does, and Mr. Gorilla gets even more excited, making noises that would wake the dead...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then her husband suggests that she let one of the straps of her dress slips down....She does and Mr. Gorilla is about to tear down the bars....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her husband suggests she lift her dress up her thighs and she does. This about drives Mr. Gorilla crazy....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then quickly the husband grabs his wife, rips open the door to the cage, flings her inside with the gorilla, slams the door shut and gleefully rubbing his hands together says...... Now, tell him you have a headache.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5430825489956586932?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5430825489956586932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5430825489956586932&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5430825489956586932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5430825489956586932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/01/importance-of-laughter.html' title='The Importance Of Laughter'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-2261246500589211813</id><published>2009-01-19T22:13:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:14:29.726+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Marital Humor</title><content type='html'>A mother had 3 daughters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were all getting married within a short time period. The mother was a bit worried on how they were going to cope with sex.. as they never had it before... So, she made them all promise to send her a postcard with a few words on how marital sex felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first girl sent a card from Hawaii two days after the wedding. The card said nothing but: "Nescafe"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum was puzzled at first, but then went to her kitchen and got out the Nescafe jar. It said.. Good till the last drop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum blushed, but was pleased for her daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second girl sent the card from Vermont a week after the wedding, and the card read: "Rothmans"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum now knew to go straight to her husband's cigarettes, and she read from the pack: "Extra Long. King Size"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was again slightly embarrassed but still happy for her daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third girl left for her honeymoon in Cape Town. Mum waited for a week, nothing. Another week went by and still nothing. Then after a whole month, a card finally arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written on it with shaky handwriting were the words "South African Airways"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum took out some of her latest magazines, flipped through the pages fearing the worst, and finally found the ad for SAA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ad said: "Ten times a day, seven days a week, both ways."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother fainted...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-2261246500589211813?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/2261246500589211813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=2261246500589211813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2261246500589211813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2261246500589211813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/01/marital-humor.html' title='Marital Humor'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-149403083861373195</id><published>2009-01-13T22:14:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:15:34.235+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Erections And Raisins</title><content type='html'>A bakery owner hires a young sexy blonde who liked to wear very short sexy skirts and thong panties, not to mention braless tops that showed of her big boobs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a young man comes into the store, glances at the sexy girl and glances at the loaves of bread behind the counter. Noticing the sexy girl was a blonde, and that the length of her skirt [or lack thereof] and the location of the raisin bread ... on the very top shelf ... he politely says to the hottie, "I'd like some raisin bread, please." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She climbs up a ladder to reach the raisin bread, providing the young man with an excellent view of the thongs and the tits, just as he surmised she would. When the blonde comes down the ladder, he says he really should get two loaves as he is having company for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the sexy woman retrieves the second loaf of bread, one of the other male customers notices what is going on. Thinking quickly, he orders a loaf of raisin bread so he can continue to enjoy the view. With each trip up the ladder, the sexy blonde seems to catch the eye of another male customer. Pretty soon, each male customer is asking for raisin bread just to watch the young sexy woman climb up and down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After many trips, the blonde is tired, irritated and thinking she is really going to have to try the raisin bread herself. Once again she is up the ladder retrieving a loaf of raisin bread for another male customer. She stops and fumes, glaring at the men below. She notices an elderly man standing among the crowd of males looking up at her who hasn't placed an order yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking to save herself another trip up and down the ladder, she yells at the elderly man, "Is yours raisin, too?" "No," croaked the old man, "but it's a quiverin'..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-149403083861373195?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/149403083861373195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=149403083861373195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/149403083861373195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/149403083861373195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/01/erections-and-raisins.html' title='Erections And Raisins'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5601293162241873749</id><published>2009-01-06T22:15:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:16:44.431+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Always Keep Your Condoms In Your Car</title><content type='html'>My wonderful girlfriend and I had been dating for over a year, and so we decided to get married. There was only one little thing bothering me. It was her beautiful and sexy younger sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My prospective sister-in-law was twenty-two, a regular hottie who wore very tight  miniskirts, and generally was bra less. One day "little" sister called and asked me to come over to check the wedding invitations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was alone when I arrived, and she whispered to me that she had feelings and desires for me that she couldn't overcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me that she wanted to make love to me just once before I got married and committed my life to her sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I was in total shock, and couldn't say a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "I'm going upstairs to my bedroom, and if you want one last wild fling, just come up and get me." I was stunned and frozen in shock as I watched her go up the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she reached the top she pulled off her panties and threw them down the stairs at me. I stood there for a moment, then turned and made a beeline straight to the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened the door, and headed straight towards my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo and behold, my entire future family was standing outside, all clapping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With tears in his eyes, my future father-in-law hugged me and said, we are very happy that you have passed our little test.....we couldn't ask for a better man for our daughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the family."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the story..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always keep your condoms in your car !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5601293162241873749?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5601293162241873749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5601293162241873749&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5601293162241873749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5601293162241873749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2009/01/always-keep-your-condoms-in-your-car.html' title='Always Keep Your Condoms In Your Car'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-2732194418979904756</id><published>2008-12-30T22:18:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:19:06.894+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Who Said Blondes Were Dumb</title><content type='html'>A  lawyer and a sexy blonde with huge boobs, are sitting next to each other on a long flight from LA to NY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curiosity gets the better of the lawyer and asks the blonde with sexy legs and huge tits about her profession. The hottie tells him that she is a model&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satisfied, the lawyer introduces himself and asks the hot blonde whether she would like to play a fun game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sexy model just wants to take a nap, so she politely declines and rolls over to the window to catch a few winks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer persists, and explains that the game is really easy and a lot of fun. He explains "I ask you a question, and if you don't know the answer, you pay me $5, and visa-versa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, the blonde model politely declines and tries to get some sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer, now somewhat agitated, says, "Okay, if you don't know the answer you pay me $5, and if I don't know the answer, I will pay you $50!" figuring that since she is a blonde that he will easily win the match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This catches the blonde's attention and, figuring that there will be no end to this torment unless she plays, agrees to the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer asks the first question. "What's the distance from the earth to the moon?" The blonde doesn't say a word, reaches in to her purse, pulls out a five-dollar bill and hands it to the lawyer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it's the blonde's turn. She asks the lawyer: "What goes up a hill with three legs, and comes down with four?" The lawyer looks at her with a puzzled look. He takes out his laptop computer and searches all his references. He taps into the Airphone with his modem and searches the Net and the Library of Congress. Frustrated, he sends E-mails to all his coworkers and friends he knows. All to no avail. After over an hour, he wakes the blonde and hands her $50. The blonde politely takes the $50 and turns away to get back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer, who is more than a little miffed, wakes the blonde and asks, "Well, so what is the answer!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a word, the blonde reaches into her purse, hands the lawyer $5, and goes back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, who said blondes were dumb !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-2732194418979904756?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/2732194418979904756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=2732194418979904756&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2732194418979904756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2732194418979904756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/12/who-said-blondes-were-dumb.html' title='Who Said Blondes Were Dumb'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-2556501551898840677</id><published>2008-12-20T22:44:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:45:44.052+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Big Shit No Chief</title><content type='html'>There was this chief somewhere in the dark continent... and he was constipated.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aftr the 1st day, he send a runner to go get his personal medicine man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The medicine man asked the runner..what the problems was... he says...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Big Chief, No Sh*t"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he send the Chief some local laxatives and told the runner to tell the chief to take 2 pills...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately there was no improvement in the chief's condition... so he send the runner again to the medicine man... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time he told the runner to tell the chief to take 4 pills...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again there was no improvement and the chief had problem cr*ppin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nextday, he screamed at the runner and said .. if there is no improvement by tomorrow, both you and the medicine man would be tomorrow's supper..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The runner, scared stiff explained this to the doctor.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor calmly advised him to tell the chief to take 8 pills, knowing the strength of the pills..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The runner on the way thought, instead of the 8 pills, what if the Chief took the entire bottle... this way, there would be adefinite result and he could surely save his head..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he advised the chief.. to consume the entire bottle..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day, the runner came running faster than usual to the medicine man....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked about the problemm...he couldn't speak... finally when he came to..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says... "Big Sh*t No Chief"....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-2556501551898840677?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/2556501551898840677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=2556501551898840677&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2556501551898840677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2556501551898840677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/12/big-shit-no-chief.html' title='Big Shit No Chief'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7808622465942042817</id><published>2008-12-10T22:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:47:48.404+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>The Two Nuns</title><content type='html'>There were two nuns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them is known as Sister Mathematical (SM) and the other one is known as Sister Logical (SL). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was getting dark and they are still far away from the convent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: Have you noticed that a man has been following us for the past &lt;br /&gt;thirty-eight and a half minutes? I wonder what he wants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: It’s logical. He wants to rape us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: Oh, no! At this rate he will reach us in 15 minutes at the most. What can we do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing to do of course is to walk faster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: It’s not working! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: Of course it’s not working. The man did the only logical thing. He started to walk faster too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: So, what shall we do? At this rate he will reach us in one minute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing we can do is split. You go that way and I’ll go this way. He cannot follow us both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the man decided to follow Sister Logical. Sister Mathematical arrives at the convent and is worried what has happened to Sister Logical. Then Sister Logical arrives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: Sister Logical! Thank the lord you are here! Tell me what happened! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing happened. The man couldn’t follow us both, so he followed me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: Yes, yes! But what happened then? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing happened. I started to run as fast as I could and he started to run as fast as he could. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: And? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing happened. He reached me.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: What did you do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing to do. I lifted my dress up....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: Oh, Sister! What did the man do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: The only logical thing to do. He pulled down his pants....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: Oh, no! What happened then? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SL: Isn’t it logical, Sister? A nun with her dress up can run faster than a man with his pants down........ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And those of you who thought it would be dirty, Pray for forgiveness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7808622465942042817?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7808622465942042817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7808622465942042817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7808622465942042817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7808622465942042817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/12/two-nuns.html' title='The Two Nuns'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7165734646110810321</id><published>2008-11-30T22:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:49:16.308+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Vodka And Sermon</title><content type='html'>A new priest at his first mass was so nervous that he could hardly speak. After mass, he asked the monsignor how he had done.The monsignor replied, " When I am worried about getting nervous on the pulpit, I put a glass of vodka next to the water glass. If I start to get nervous, I take a sip."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next Sunday he took the monsignor's advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the beginning of the sermon, he got nervous and took a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He proceeded to talk up a storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon his return to his office after the mass, he found the following note on the door:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Sip the vodka, don't gulp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) There are 10 commandments, not 12.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) There are 12 disciples, not 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Jesus was consecrated, not constipated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Jacob wagered his donkey, he did not bet his ass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) We do not refer to Jesus Christ as the late J.C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are not referred to as Daddy, Junior and the spook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) David slew Goliath, he did not kick the $$=+ out of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) When David was hit by a rock and was knocked off his donkey, don't say he was stoned off his ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)We do not refer to the cross as the "Big T."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)What Jesus said at the last supper was "take this bread and eat it for it's my body." He did not say.. Eat me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)The Virgin Mary is not called " Mary with the Cherry,.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13)The recommended grace before a meal is not: Rub-A-Dub-Dub thanks for the grub, Yeah God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14)Next Sunday there will be a taffy pulling contest at St.Peter's not a peter pulling contest at St. Taffy's....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7165734646110810321?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7165734646110810321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7165734646110810321&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7165734646110810321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7165734646110810321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/11/vodka-and-sermon.html' title='Vodka And Sermon'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-1886164776082006437</id><published>2008-11-20T22:49:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:50:32.947+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Your First Time</title><content type='html'>It's your first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you lie back..you feel your muscles tighten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You put him off for a while searching for an excuse, but he refuses to be swayed as he approaches you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asks if you're afraid and you shake your head bravely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has had more experience, but it's the first time his finger has found the right place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He probes deeply and you shiver; your body tenses; but he's gentle like he promised he'd be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks deeply within your eyes and tells you to trust him - he's done this many times before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His cool smile relaxes you and you open wider to give him more room for an easy entrance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You begin to plead and beg him to hurry, but he slowly takes his time, wanting to cause you as little pain as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he presses closer, going deeper, you feel the tissue give way; pain surges throughout your body and you feel the slight trickle of blood as he continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks at you concerned and asks you if it's too painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes are filled with tears but you shake your head and nod for him to go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He begins going in and out with skill but you are now too numb to feel him within you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few moments, you feel something bursting within you and he pulls it out of you, you lay panting, glad to have it over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks at you and smiling warmly, tells you, with a chuckle; that you have been his most stubborn yet most rewarding experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You smile and thank your dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, it was your first time to have a tooth pulled out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who had sex and orgasm in their minds - shame on you !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry your time will come !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A word of thanks for asking to put in a few words on Dentists and adultery&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-1886164776082006437?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/1886164776082006437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=1886164776082006437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1886164776082006437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1886164776082006437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/11/your-first-time.html' title='Your First Time'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-9017857648898992203</id><published>2008-11-09T22:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:54:32.815+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Cyber-sex-lay-about-and-nerdo-well</title><content type='html'>It is estimated that 75 percent of Japanese women own vibrators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The global average is only 47 percent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this may be due to the influence of electronics in their society... it is also believed that the next generation of japanese vibrators.."comes" with a robot !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The maximum depth at which vaginal stimulation occurs is only 2"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This makes it all the more funny, when women complain about being shagged, sorry that is when they complain that they have a headache when asked for sex !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A female orgasm is a powerfull painkiller [because of the release of endorfines], so headaches are in fact a bad excuse not to have sex... Women must be educated on this aspect !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is believed that one in three men, cheats on his partner, as opposed to one in four women. However it is sad that only 28% of female cheaters get caught, while you don't want to know the male side... it may make you cry !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way... a "cyber-sex-lay-about-and-neer-do-well" is a person who reads sex trivia pages on the Internet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thanks for asking to comment on this subject........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-9017857648898992203?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/9017857648898992203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=9017857648898992203&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/9017857648898992203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/9017857648898992203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/11/cyber-sex-lay-about-and-nerdo-well.html' title='Cyber-sex-lay-about-and-nerdo-well'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-6159407569858031881</id><published>2008-10-30T21:54:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:55:32.571+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Nothing Llike A Blonde Scorned</title><content type='html'>She spent the first day packing her belongings into boxes, crates, and suitcases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second day she had the movers come and collect her things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the third day she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lit the candles, put on some soft background music and feasted on a lb of shrimp, a jar of caviar, and a bottle of chardonnay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half eaten shrimp shells dipped in caviar, into the hollow of the curtain rods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She cleaned up the kitchen and left&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then slowly the house began to smell.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They tried everything, cleaning, mopping, and airing the place out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vents were checked for dead rodents and the carpets were steam cleaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Air fresheners were hung everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which they had to move out for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing worked......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People stopped coming over to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repair men refused to work in the house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The maid quit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month later, even though they cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer for their stinky house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word got out, and eventually the local realitors refused to take their calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ex-wife [the blonde] called her x husband, and asked how things were going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told her the saga of the rotting house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She listened politely, and said that she missed her old home terribly, and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing his wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10 what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blonde agreed, and within the hour his lawyers delivered the paper work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smilimg as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home, including the curtain rods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be extremly careful with blondes.... !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-6159407569858031881?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/6159407569858031881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=6159407569858031881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6159407569858031881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6159407569858031881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/10/nothing-llike-blonde-scorned.html' title='Nothing Llike A Blonde Scorned'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-4898321512227249171</id><published>2008-10-20T21:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:56:41.781+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Career Decision Made Easy</title><content type='html'>Two managers are heatedly discussing on how to lay off one of their two assistants, Jack or Jane. They go back and forth but can't decide who to lay off. Finally, one manager decides that they lay off the first person who gets up from their desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, Jane is hard at work but suddenly gets a headache. She gets some aspirin from her desk drawer and gets up from her desk to get some water. As agreed, one of the managers gets up to break the bad news to Jane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane, I need to talk to you. I've got a problem. I either need to lay you or Jack off..." Jane responds..... Well..... Jack off ! I've got a headache.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-4898321512227249171?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/4898321512227249171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=4898321512227249171&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/4898321512227249171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/4898321512227249171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/10/career-decision-made-easy.html' title='Career Decision Made Easy'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-1853952630750148269</id><published>2008-10-10T21:57:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:57:52.486+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Business Ethics</title><content type='html'>When the body was first made, all the parts wanted to be Boss. The brain said: "I should be Boss because I control the whole body's responses and functions." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feet said, "We should be Boss as we carry the brain about and get him to where he wants to go." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hands said, "We should be the Boss because we do all the work and earn all the money." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it went on and on with the heart, the lungs and the eyes until finally the a*s*hole spoke up. All the parts laughed at the idea of the a*s*hole being the Boss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the asshole went on strike, blocked itself up and refused to work. Within a short time the eyes became crossed, the hands clenched, the feet twitched, the heart and lungs began to panic and the brain fevered. Eventually they all decided that the a*s*hole should be the boss, so the motion was passed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the other parts did all the work while the boss just sat and passed out the shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What can we learn from this?&lt;br /&gt;A: You don't need brains to be a Boss - any a*s*hole will do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-1853952630750148269?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/1853952630750148269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=1853952630750148269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1853952630750148269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1853952630750148269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/10/business-ethics.html' title='Business Ethics'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5048352644563789529</id><published>2008-09-30T21:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:00:09.079+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>The Skeleton</title><content type='html'>Q: Why didn't the skeleton cross the road? &lt;br /&gt;A: He didn't have the guts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5048352644563789529?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5048352644563789529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5048352644563789529&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5048352644563789529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5048352644563789529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/09/skeleton.html' title='The Skeleton'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-475028144904317473</id><published>2008-09-20T22:01:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:01:59.369+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Similarities Between Osama And Crabs</title><content type='html'>What do Osama bin Laden and crabs have in common? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They both irritate Bush.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-475028144904317473?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/475028144904317473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=475028144904317473&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/475028144904317473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/475028144904317473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/09/similarities-between-osama-and-crabs.html' title='Similarities Between Osama And Crabs'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-3970534329100634756</id><published>2008-09-10T12:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:06:46.957+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Gonorrhea Or Diarrhoea</title><content type='html'>When a man died, his wife put the usual death notice in the newspapar but added that he died of gonorrhoea. No sooner were the papers delivered than a good friend called and compalined bitterly, "You know he died of diarrhoea, not gonorrhoea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replied the widow, "I nursed him night and day, so of course I know he died of diarrhoea. But I thought it would be better to remember him as a great lover than the big shit he always was."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-3970534329100634756?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/3970534329100634756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=3970534329100634756&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3970534329100634756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3970534329100634756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/09/gonorrhea-or-diarrhoea.html' title='Gonorrhea Or Diarrhoea'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7396576844420195346</id><published>2008-08-30T22:02:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:03:58.131+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grateful-dead'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Grateful Dead - Touch of Grey</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5NEE8oURdM0&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5NEE8oURdM0&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="400" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grateful Dead - Touch of Grey music video &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never got to see the Dead Live.......Long live the Dead!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7396576844420195346?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7396576844420195346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7396576844420195346&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7396576844420195346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7396576844420195346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/08/grateful-dead-touch-of-grey.html' title='Grateful Dead - Touch of Grey'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-1269382668191837360</id><published>2008-06-07T00:23:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-07T00:24:49.551+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Bullshit And Ambition</title><content type='html'>A turkey was chatting with a bull. "I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree," sighed the turkey, "but I haven't got the energy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, why don't you nibble on some of my droppings?" replied the bull. "They're packed with nutrients." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The turkey pecked at a lump of dung and found that it actually gave him enough strength to reach the first branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. Finally after a fortnight, there he was proudly perched at the top of the tree. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon he was promptly spotted by a farmer, who shot the turkey out of the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What can we learn from this?&lt;br /&gt;A: Bullshit might get you to the top, but it won't keep you there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-1269382668191837360?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/1269382668191837360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=1269382668191837360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1269382668191837360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1269382668191837360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/06/bullshit-and-ambition.html' title='Bullshit And Ambition'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5233150808605835668</id><published>2008-05-23T11:28:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-23T11:53:06.950+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A Dead Horse - Real-Life Reflections On Business Strategy</title><content type='html'>During your MBA course, you probably learned that when you discover your company is riding a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount as quickly as possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, in real-life business we often try other strategies with dead horses, including the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Buying a stronger whip.&lt;br /&gt;2. Changing riders.&lt;br /&gt;3. Saying things like "This is the way we always have ridden this horse."&lt;br /&gt;4. Appointing a committee to study the horse.&lt;br /&gt;5. Arranging to visit other sites to see how they ride dead horses.&lt;br /&gt;6. Increasing the standards to ride dead horses.&lt;br /&gt;7. Appointing a tiger team to revive the dead horse.&lt;br /&gt;8. Creating a training session to increase our riding ability.&lt;br /&gt;9. Comparing the state of dead horses in today's environment.&lt;br /&gt;10. Change the requirements declaring that "This horse is not dead."&lt;br /&gt;11. Hire contractors to ride the dead horse.&lt;br /&gt;12. Harnessing several dead horses together for increased speed.&lt;br /&gt;13. Declaring that "No horse is too dead to beat."&lt;br /&gt;14. Providing additional funding to increase the horse's performance.&lt;br /&gt;15. Do a CA Study to see if contractors can ride it cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;16. Purchase a product to make dead horses run faster.&lt;br /&gt;17. Declare the horse is "better, faster and cheaper" dead.&lt;br /&gt;18. Form a quality circle to find uses for dead horses.&lt;br /&gt;19. Revisit the performance requirements for horses.&lt;br /&gt;20. Say this horse was procured with cost as an independent variable.&lt;br /&gt;21. Promote the dead horse to a supervisory position.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5233150808605835668?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5233150808605835668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5233150808605835668&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5233150808605835668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5233150808605835668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/05/dead-horse-real-life-reflections-on.html' title='A Dead Horse - Real-Life Reflections On Business Strategy'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-2903102184955664748</id><published>2008-05-08T07:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-08T07:45:17.604+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The three corpses</title><content type='html'>Three smiling corpses are lying in a morgue in Arkansas, and a detective goes into the coroner's to find the causes of death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coroner points to the first dead man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is Cletus," he says. "He died of shock after winning 20 million on the lottery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then moves on to the second smiling corpse. "This is Bo," the coroner says with a grin. "He died while doing 'it' with Trudy-May."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally he moves on to the last smiling corpse. "This is Roscoe," says the coroner. "He died after being struck by lightning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," asks the detective, "Why in hell was the fool smiling?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," says the coroner. "He thought he was having his picture taken."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-2903102184955664748?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/2903102184955664748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=2903102184955664748&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2903102184955664748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2903102184955664748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/05/three-corpses.html' title='The three corpses'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-3074425644771509273</id><published>2008-05-04T18:49:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-04T18:55:34.977+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Scale</title><content type='html'>George forgot his anniversary and obviously the wife got mad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told him that he had until the next morning, before which time there better be something in the driveway. Something that could go from zero to sixty in 6 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So George went and got his wife a gift - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When his wife looked out the window and saw a neatly wrapped up box in the driveway, she rushed and unwraps the box, only to find a SCALE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George has been missing since Friday !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-3074425644771509273?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/3074425644771509273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=3074425644771509273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3074425644771509273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3074425644771509273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/05/scale.html' title='The Scale'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-8224588594223040353</id><published>2008-05-04T18:44:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-04T18:47:04.663+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlize-Theron'/><title type='text'>The Namibia Cheetah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/SB22ubCA1WI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/fZ6oDFnm3N0/s1600-h/Charlize_Theron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/SB22ubCA1WI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/fZ6oDFnm3N0/s320/Charlize_Theron.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196510453701858658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Charlize-Theron - Couldn't Avoid This&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-8224588594223040353?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/8224588594223040353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=8224588594223040353&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8224588594223040353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8224588594223040353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/05/namibia-cheetah.html' title='The Namibia Cheetah'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/SB22ubCA1WI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/fZ6oDFnm3N0/s72-c/Charlize_Theron.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-4846951112959954846</id><published>2008-05-03T19:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-04T18:56:25.478+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What is Dead Man Talking</title><content type='html'>You said it !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, basically nothing..... just a blog to satisfy readers and society to justify any faux pas that may have been committed.... Its incredible....the world we live in....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no me or you..... but just us !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words..... the vision of the moron or stupid or even an imbecile to justify his mistakes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a personal view point..... just another day in paradise....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-4846951112959954846?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/4846951112959954846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=4846951112959954846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/4846951112959954846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/4846951112959954846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-is-dead-man-talking.html' title='What is Dead Man Talking'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-1740984738503010228</id><published>2008-05-01T18:38:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-04T18:56:50.983+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Dead Manchester United Fan</title><content type='html'>Question - What's the difference between a dead dog in the road and a dead Manchester United Fan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer - Skid marks in front of the dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-1740984738503010228?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/1740984738503010228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=1740984738503010228&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1740984738503010228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1740984738503010228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/05/dead-manchester-united-fan.html' title='Dead Manchester United Fan'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-8481391873222287480</id><published>2008-04-19T07:11:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-19T07:12:19.399+05:30</updated><title type='text'>And How Did You Die?</title><content type='html'>It was getting a little crowded in Heaven, so God decided to change the admittance policy. The new law was that, in order to get into Heaven, you had to have a real bummer of a day when you died. The policy would go into effect at noon the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day at 12:01am, the first person came to the gates of Heaven. The Angel at the gate, remembering the new policy, promptly said to the man, "Before I let you in, I need you to tell me how your day was going when you died."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No problem," the man said. "I came home to my 25th floor apartment on my lunch hour and caught my wife half naked. She appeared to be having an affair, but her lover was nowhere in sight. I immediately began searching for him. My wife was yelling at me as I searched the entire apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I was about to give up, I happened to glance out onto the balcony and noticed that there was a man hanging off the edge by his fingertips! The nerve of that guy! Well, I ran out onto the balcony and stomped on his fingers until he fell to the ground. But wouldn't you know it, he landed in some trees and bushes that broke his fall and he didn't die. This ticked me off even more. In a rage, I went back inside to get the first thing Could get my hands on to throw at him. Oddly enough, the first thing I thought of was the refrigerator. I unplugged it, pushed it out onto the balcony, and tipped it over the side. It plummeted 25 stories and crushed him! The excitement of the moment was so great that I had a heart attack and died almost instantly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Angel sat back and thought a moment. Technically, the guy did have a bad day. It was a crime of passion. So, the Angel announced, "OK, sir. Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven," and let him in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few seconds later the next guy came up. The Angel said, "Before I can let you in, I need to hear about what your day was like when you died." "No problem," said the second man. "But you're not going to believe this. I was on the balcony of my 26th floor apartment doing my daily exercises. I had been under a lot of pressure so I was really pushing hard to relieve my stress. I guess I got a little carried away, slipped, and accidentally fell over the side! Luckily, I was able to catch myself by the fingertips on the balcony below mine. But all of a sudden this crazy man comes running out of his apartment, starts cussing, and stomps on my fingers. Well, of course I fell. I hit some trees and bushes at the bottom which broke my fall so I didn't die right away. As I'm laying there face up on the ground, unable to move, and in excruciating pain, I see this guy push his REFRIGERATOR, of all things, off the balcony. It falls the 25 floors and lands on top of me, killing me instantly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Angel is quietly laughing to himself as the man finishes his story. "I could get used to this new policy," he thinks to himself. "Very well," the Angel announces. "Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven," and he lets the man enter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few seconds later, a third man comes up to the gate. The angel says, "Please tell me how you died."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third man says, "OK, picture this. I'm naked, hiding inside a refrigerator..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-8481391873222287480?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/8481391873222287480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=8481391873222287480&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8481391873222287480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8481391873222287480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-how-did-you-die.html' title='And How Did You Die?'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7213208602415700805</id><published>2008-04-13T11:36:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-13T11:37:46.788+05:30</updated><title type='text'>God of the Operating Room</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/SAGjEc2iKoI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pvMl4py-BzQ/s1600-h/larsengod.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/SAGjEc2iKoI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pvMl4py-BzQ/s320/larsengod.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188607542567250562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7213208602415700805?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7213208602415700805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7213208602415700805&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7213208602415700805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7213208602415700805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/04/god-of-operating-room.html' title='God of the Operating Room'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/SAGjEc2iKoI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pvMl4py-BzQ/s72-c/larsengod.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-513156999467012612</id><published>2008-04-13T07:51:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-12T19:51:59.562+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Chair</title><content type='html'>Bill Clinton, Al Gore, and Bill Gates all died in a plane crash and went to meet their maker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The supreme deity turned to Al and asked, tell what is important about yourself. Al responded that he felt that the earth was the ultimate importance and that protecting the earth's ecological system was most important. God looked to Al and said, " I like the way you think, come and sit at my left hand".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God then asked Bill Clinton what he revered most. Bill Clinton responded that he felt people and their personal choices were most important. God responded, " I like the way you think, come and sit at my right hand".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God then turned to Bill Gates, who was staring at him indignantly. God asked "What is your problem Bill Gates?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill Gates responded " I think you are sitting in my chair".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-513156999467012612?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/513156999467012612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=513156999467012612&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/513156999467012612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/513156999467012612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/04/chair.html' title='The Chair'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-1251397516910098227</id><published>2008-04-05T06:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-04T18:46:22.046+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Reservations Required</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/R_Ypu0O1KHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6rj6gj6vRcA/s1600-h/HeavenSmall.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/R_Ypu0O1KHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6rj6gj6vRcA/s320/HeavenSmall.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185377905235273842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The things to come !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-1251397516910098227?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/1251397516910098227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=1251397516910098227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1251397516910098227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1251397516910098227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/04/reservations-required.html' title='Reservations Required'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/R_Ypu0O1KHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6rj6gj6vRcA/s72-c/HeavenSmall.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7591990218089641402</id><published>2008-04-05T06:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-04T19:33:11.952+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Harrison Ford'/><title type='text'>Indiana Jones is as Good as Dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://blaugh.com/2007/04/03/indiana-jones-is-as-good-as-dead" rel="bookmark"&gt;&lt;img class="comic" title="Indiana Jones is as Good as Dead" alt="Indiana Jones is as Good as Dead" src="http://blaugh.com/cartoons/070403_shooting_indy_IV.gif" height="250" width="410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;a href="http://www.indianajones.com/"&gt;Indiana Jones&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Domain: &lt;a href="https://www.godaddy.com/gdshop/registrar/search.asp?domainToCheck=HarrisonFordIsOld&amp;amp;tld=.COM&amp;amp;isc=blaugh&amp;amp;checkavail=1"&gt;HarrisonFordIsOld.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7591990218089641402?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7591990218089641402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7591990218089641402&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7591990218089641402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7591990218089641402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/04/indiana-jones-is-as-good-as-dead.html' title='Indiana Jones is as Good as Dead'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5666798199590926559</id><published>2008-04-03T05:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-02T17:12:52.177+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aussie'/><title type='text'>The Aussie Cricket Fab</title><content type='html'>An Australian cricket fan dies on match day (probably from drinking too much) and goes to heaven in his Australian cricket shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knocks on the old pearly gates and out walks Saint Peter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Hello mate,' the Aussie says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No Australian cricket fans in heaven,' replies Saint Peter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What?' exclaims the man, astonished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You heard, no Australian cricket fans.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'But, but, but, I've been a good man,' replies the Aussie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Oh really,' says Saint Peter. 'What have you done then?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Well, three weeks before I died I gave $10 to the starving children in Africa.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Oh,' says Saint Peter, 'anything else?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Well, two weeks before I died I also gave $10 to the homeless.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Hmmm, anything else?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yeah. A week before I died I gave $10 to the Albanian orphans.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'OK,' said Saint Peter, 'you wait here a minute while I have a word with the boss.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes pass before Saint Peter returns. He looks the bloke in the eye and says, 'I've had a word with God and he agrees with me. Here's your $30 back, now shoo.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5666798199590926559?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5666798199590926559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5666798199590926559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5666798199590926559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5666798199590926559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/04/aussie-cricket-fab.html' title='The Aussie Cricket Fab'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5069445858558000051</id><published>2008-03-29T01:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-28T13:51:54.504+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Coloring your pubic hair</title><content type='html'>Coloring your pubic hair is one of a hairdressers biggest jokes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we have a client we always think shall we mix a batch to match the snatch. It sounds so funny. Believe it or not the clients who want to mix the batch to match.......are men. I know some men that you wouldn't believe have it done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dye that you use on the area should be all natural and a low amount of ammonia. There are a lot of products with less the 5% ammonia. Chi, Paul Mitchell are two permanent hair colors. You can also use semi permanent. It will wash out quicker, but it will not itch as much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are a married woman or man and want to stimulate your partner go for it. It is easier then shaving the area. You can imagine how itchy that would be. I can tell you from experience. Stubble in that spot could be very itchy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a lot safer then getting a tattoo. Your partner will be in shock for awhile, but they get over it. It is a turn on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While you are at it you might as well get a heart shape hair cut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dying your pubic hair should be done with a dye brush, not a bottle. The dye should be mixed with your favorite color. The area should be freshly shampooed and blown dry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave the color on for a good 30 min. Shampoo and condition just like you would do your hair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is also wise to take a skin test after five min. To make sure you are not allergic to it. If you start to swell and turn red in the area then take it off immediately. Another allergic reaction would be having trouble breathing. It happens to people sometimes when you color the hair on your head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can imagine how sensitive it is in that area. It is a chemical and you are putting it in a very very sensitive area of your body. So please take a skin test and do not take it for granted that you will not have a reaction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have fun with color and be safe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5069445858558000051?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5069445858558000051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5069445858558000051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5069445858558000051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5069445858558000051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/coloring-your-pubic-hair.html' title='Coloring your pubic hair'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5406103551267030373</id><published>2008-03-29T00:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-28T12:58:25.253+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='charity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='priest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lawyer'/><title type='text'>The Lawyer &amp; The Dead Man</title><content type='html'>A dying man gathered his best friends - a lawyer, doctor and a priest - at his bedside and handed each of them an envelope containing $25,000 in cash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He made them each promise that after his death and during his repose, they would place the three envelops in his coffin. He told them that he wanted to have enough money to enjoy the next life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later the man died. At the wake, the lawyer and doctor and clergyman each concealed an envelope in the coffin and bid their old client and friend farewell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By chance, these three met several months later. Soon the priest, feeling guilty, blurted out a confession saying that there was only $10,000 in the envelope he placed in the coffin. He felt, rather than waste all the money, he would send it to a mission in South America. He asked for their forgiveness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor, moved by the gentle Clergyman's sincerity, confessed that he too had kept some of the money for a worthy medical charity. The envelope, he admitted, had only $8000 in it. He said he too could not bring himself to waste the money so frivolously when it could be used to benefit others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time the Lawyer was seething with self-righteous outrage. He expressed his deep disappointment in the felonious behavior of two of his oldest and most trusted friends. "I am the only one who kept my promise to our dying friend. I want you both to know that the envelope I placed in the coffin contained the full amount. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other men looked down in embarrassment and the lawyer continued, "Indeed, only I honored the deathbed wishes of our great friend. My envelope contained my personal check for the entire $25,000."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5406103551267030373?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5406103551267030373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5406103551267030373&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5406103551267030373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5406103551267030373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/lawyer-dead-man.html' title='The Lawyer &amp; The Dead Man'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-385961923442918077</id><published>2008-03-28T18:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-28T13:45:25.875+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The blonde and the rancher</title><content type='html'>A blonde dyed her hair black, and thought she looked so great she decided to go for a drive in the country to celebrate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a bit, she was driving by a sheep ranch and stopped to look at the sheep which she liked very much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went over the the rancher and said, "If I can tell you how many are in this field right now, will you let me have one?" The rancher said, "If you can count that fast, sure!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blonde said: "524." The rancher, amazed, told her to take her pick, for that was the exact count. After a few minutes, the blonde came back with her animal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rancher said, "If I can tell you what color your hair was before you dyed it, could I have my dog back?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-385961923442918077?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/385961923442918077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=385961923442918077&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/385961923442918077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/385961923442918077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/blonde-and-rancher.html' title='The blonde and the rancher'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-8168139987312397846</id><published>2008-03-28T07:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:37:18.771+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='St.Peter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven'/><title type='text'>Vehicle in heaven</title><content type='html'>3 Men were waiting to go to heaven. St Peter was at the gate and said, "However good you were to your wife that is the vehicle you will get in heaven".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first guy comes up to the gate and says, "I never, ever cheated on my wife and I love her". So St. Peter gives him a Rolls Royce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next man comes up and says, "I cheated on my wife a little but I still love her." He gets a mustang and drives off into heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next guy came up and said, "I cheated on my wife a lot". He gets a scooter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day the guy that got the scooter was riding along and he saw the guy who owned the Rolls Royce crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked, "Why are you crying you have such a nice car?!" and the man sobbed, "My wife just went by on roller skates".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-8168139987312397846?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/8168139987312397846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=8168139987312397846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8168139987312397846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8168139987312397846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/vehicle-in-heaven.html' title='Vehicle in heaven'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7435521972113576385</id><published>2008-03-28T07:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:34:20.135+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='St.Peter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lawyer'/><title type='text'>Can you get married in heaven ?</title><content type='html'>On their way to a justice of the peace to get married, a couple has a fatal car accident. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple is sitting outside heavens' gate waiting on St. Peter to do the paperwork so they can enter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While waiting, they wonder if they could possibly get married in Heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter finally shows up and they ask him. St. Peter says, "I don't know, this is the first time anyone has ever asked. Let me go find out," and he leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple sit for a couple of months and begin to wonder if they really should get married in Heaven, what with the eternal aspect of it all. "What if it doesn't work out?" they wonder, "Are we stuck together forever?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter returns after yet another month, looking somewhat bedraggled. "Yes," he informs the couple, "you can get married in Heaven." "Great," says the couple, "but what if things don't work out? Could we also get a divorce in Heaven?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter, red-faced, slams his clipboard onto the ground. "What's wrong?" exclaims the frightened couple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Geez!" St. Peter exclaims, "It took me three months to find a priest up here! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have any idea how long it's going to take for me to find a lawyer?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7435521972113576385?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7435521972113576385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7435521972113576385&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7435521972113576385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7435521972113576385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/can-you-get-married-in-heaven.html' title='Can you get married in heaven ?'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-6109034161017333869</id><published>2008-03-28T03:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T15:33:10.453+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lawyer'/><title type='text'>Lawyer At The Gates !</title><content type='html'>A new York Divorce Lawyer died and arrived at the pearly gates. Saint Peter asks him "What have you done to merit entrance into Heaven?" The Lawyer thought a moment, then said, "A week ago, I gave a quarter to a homeless person on the street." Saint Peter asked Gabriel to check this out in the record, and after a moment Gabriel affirmed that this was true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saint Peter said, "Well , that's fine, but it's not really quite enough to get you into Heaven." The Lawyer said, "Wait Wait! There's more! Three years ago I also gave a homeless person a quarter." Saint Peter nodded to Gabriel, who after a moment nodded back, affirming this, too, had been verified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saint Peter then whispered to Gabriel, "Well, what do you suggest we do with this fellow?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabriel gave the Lawyer a sidelong glance, then said to Saint Peter,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's give him back his 50 cents and tell him to go to Hell."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-6109034161017333869?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/6109034161017333869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=6109034161017333869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6109034161017333869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6109034161017333869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/lawyer-at-gates.html' title='Lawyer At The Gates !'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-6977949223768531171</id><published>2008-03-27T15:38:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T15:39:27.772+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Head at the bar</title><content type='html'>A man is waiting for wife to give birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor comes in and informs the dad that his son was born without torso, arms or legs. The son is just a head! But the dad loves his son and raises him as well as he can, with love and compassion. After 21 years, the son is old enough for his first drink. Dad takes him to the bar and tearfully tells the son he is proud of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad orders up the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously and the bartender shaking his head in disbelief, the boy takes his first sip of alcohol. Swoooop! A torso pops out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bar is dead silent; then bursts into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant "Take another drink"! The bartender still shakes his head in dismay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swoooop! Two arms pops out. The bar goes wild. The father, crying and wailing, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant, "Take another drink"! The bartender ignores the whole affair. By now the boy is getting tipsy, and with his new hands he reaches down, grabs his drink and guzzles the last of it. Swoooop! Two legs pop out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bar is in chaos. The father falls to his knees and tearfully thanks God. The boy stands up on his new legs and stumbles to the left.... then to the right.... right through the front door, into the street, where a truck runs over him and kills him instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bar falls silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father moans in grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender sighs and says, "That boy should have quit while he was a-head."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-6977949223768531171?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/6977949223768531171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=6977949223768531171&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6977949223768531171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6977949223768531171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/head-at-bar.html' title='Head at the bar'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-3331642441835241041</id><published>2008-03-26T12:59:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:36:31.733+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven'/><title type='text'>What should they say?</title><content type='html'>Three buddies die in a car crash, and they go to heaven to an orientation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are all asked, "When you are in your casket and friends and family are mourning upon you, what would you like to hear them say about you? The first guy says, "I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor of my time, and a great family man." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second guy says, "I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher which made a huge difference in our children of tomorrow." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last guy replies, "I would like to hear them say, "Wow! He's moving!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-3331642441835241041?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/3331642441835241041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=3331642441835241041&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3331642441835241041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/3331642441835241041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-should-they-say.html' title='What should they say?'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-1404825393038795928</id><published>2008-03-26T12:38:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:36:04.063+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='St.Peter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pearly Gates'/><title type='text'>The name of your wife</title><content type='html'>St. Peter is questioning three married couples to see if they qualify for admittance to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you deserve to pass the Pearly Gates?" he asks one of the men, who had been a butler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was a good father," he answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, but you were a drunk all your life. In fact, you were so bad you even married a woman named Sherry. No admittance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter then turned to the next man, a carpenter, and asked him the same question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The carpenter replied that he had worked hard and taken good care of his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But St. Peter also rejected him, pointing out that he had been an impossible glutton, so much so that he married a woman named BonBon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point the third man, who had been a lawyer, stood up and said, "Come on, Penny, let?s get out of here."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-1404825393038795928?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/1404825393038795928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=1404825393038795928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1404825393038795928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/1404825393038795928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/name-of-your-wife.html' title='The name of your wife'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7984043815459088822</id><published>2008-03-26T12:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-26T12:37:12.399+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Devil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Pick Heaven or Hell</title><content type='html'>One day while walking down the street a highly successful executive woman was tragically hit by a bus and she died. Her soul arrived up in heaven where she was met at the Pearly Gates by St. Peter himself. "Welcome to Heaven," said St.Peter. "Before you get settled in though, it seems we have a problem. You see, strangely enough, we've never once had an executive make it this far and we're not really sure what to do with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No problem, just let me in." said the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'd like to, but I have higher orders. What we're going to do is let you have a day in Hell and a day in Heaven and then you can choose whichever one you want to spend an eternity in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually, I think I've made up my mind...I prefer to stay in Heaven", said the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, we have rules..." And with that St. Peter put the executive in an elevator and it went down-down-down to hell. The doors opened and she found herself stepping out onto the putting green of a beautiful golf course. In the distance was a country club and standing in front of her were all her friends - fellow executives that she had worked with and they were all dressed in evening gowns and cheering for her. They ran up and kissed her on both cheeks and they talked about old times. They played an excellent round of golf and at night went to the country club where she enjoyed an excellent steak and lobster dinner. She met the Devil who was actually a really nice guy (kinda cute) and she had a great time telling jokes and dancing. She was having such a good time that before she knew it, it was time to leave. Everybody shook her hand and waved good- bye as she got on the elevator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elevator went up-up-up and opened back up at the Pearly Gates and found St. Peter waiting for her. "Now it's time to spend a day in heaven," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she spent the next 24 hours lounging around on clouds and playing the harp and singing. She had a great time and before she knew it her 24 hours were up and St. Peter came and got her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, you've spent a day in hell and you've spent a day in heaven. Now you must choose your eternity," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman paused for a second and then replied, "Well, I never thought I'd say this, I mean, Heaven has been really great and all, but I think I had a better time in Hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So St. Peter escorted her to the elevator and again she went down-down-down back to Hell. When the doors of the elevator opened she found herself standing in a desolate wasteland covered in garbage and Filth. She saw her friends were dressed in rags and were picking up the garbage and putting it in sacks. The Devil came up to her and put his arm around her. "I don't understand," stammered the woman, "yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a country club and we ate lobster and we danced and had a great time. Now all there is a wasteland of garbage and all my friends look miserable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Devil looked at her and smiled. "Yesterday we were recruiting you; today you're staff."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7984043815459088822?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7984043815459088822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7984043815459088822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7984043815459088822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7984043815459088822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/pick-heaven-or-hell.html' title='Pick Heaven or Hell'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7961424852762845924</id><published>2008-03-25T19:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-25T07:31:55.323+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Don't hit it again !</title><content type='html'>Paddy was found dead in his back yard, and as the weather was a bit on the warm side, the wake was held down to only two days, so his mortal remains wouldn't take a bad turn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last his friends laid him in the box, nailed it shut &amp; started down the hill into the churchyard. As it was a long, sloping path and the mourners were appropriately tipsy, one fellow lurched into the gatepost as they entered the graveyard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a loud knocking came from in the box. Paddy was alive! They opened the box up and he sat up, wide eyed, and they all said, Sure, it's a miracle of God! All rejoiced &amp; they went back and had a few more drinks but later that day, the poor lad died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really died. Stone cold dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They bundled him back into his box, and as they huffed and puffed own the hill the next morning, the priest said, "Careful now, boys; mind ye don't bump the gatepost again"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7961424852762845924?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7961424852762845924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7961424852762845924&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7961424852762845924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7961424852762845924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/dont-hit-it-again.html' title='Don&apos;t hit it again !'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-2041402533897542133</id><published>2008-03-25T19:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:38:34.418+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='St.Peter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pearly Gates'/><title type='text'>The Irish Connection</title><content type='html'>There once was an proud Irishman named Pat, who went to heaven and saw St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter asked, "Who are you?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Pat replied, "My name is Pat, I'm an Irishman, born on St. Patrick's Day,died on St. Patrick's Day, marching' in the St. Patrick's Day parade." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter said to Pat: "Yes, this is true! Here's a little green cloud for you to drive around heaven in and here is a harp that, when you push this button here, will play 'When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.' Enjoy it,Pat. Have a good time in heaven." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pat jumps on his little green cloud,punches the button, and heads out with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. He's having a wonderful time in heaven, driving his little green cloud around. But on the third day, he's driving down Expressway H-1 with the harp playing full blast when, all of a sudden, a Jewish man in a pink and white two-tone cloud with tail fins roars past him. And in the back of this cloud is an organ which is playing all sorts of celestial music. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pat makes a U-turn right in the middle of the Heaven Expressway and charges back to the Pearly Gates. He says, "St. Peter, my name is Pat,I'm a proud Irishman. I was born on St. Patrick's Day, died on St.Patrick's Day, marching' in the St. Patrick's Day parade. I come up here to heaven and I get this tiny, insignificant little green cloud and this little harp that plays only one song, 'When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, there's a Jew over there. He's got a big, beautiful pink and white two-tone cloud and a huge organ that plays all kinds of celestial music and I, Pat the Irishman, want to know why!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter stands up from his desk. He leans over and motions Pat the Irishman to come closer. Then he says:  "Pat, shush! He's the Boss's Son!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-2041402533897542133?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/2041402533897542133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=2041402533897542133&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2041402533897542133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2041402533897542133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/irish-connection.html' title='The Irish Connection'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-8721085754068469234</id><published>2008-03-25T19:02:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-25T07:15:29.374+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The preacher and  the driver</title><content type='html'>After a preacher died and went to heaven, he noticed that a New York cab driver had been awarded a higher place than he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't understand," he complained to God. "I devoted my entire life to my congregation."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our policy here in heaven is to reward results," God explained. "Now, was your congregation well attuned to you whenever you gave a sermon?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," the minister had to admit, "some in the congregation fell asleep from time to time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Exactly," said God, "and when people rode in this man's taxi, they not only stayed wake, they even prayed.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-8721085754068469234?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/8721085754068469234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=8721085754068469234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8721085754068469234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/8721085754068469234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/preacher-and-driver.html' title='The preacher and  the driver'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-2941145251701415141</id><published>2008-03-24T18:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:35:20.506+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Happiness is holiness</title><content type='html'>Three men died and were taken by God to the top of a cliff. God said to them that since they had been such great outstanding citizens of earth that they would be given one chance to become anything that they desired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first man ran to the edge of the cliff, jumped into the air and shouted, "I want to be an eagle." Instantly he was changed into an eagle and soared off into the sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second man ran to the edge of the cliff, jumped into the air and shouted, "I want to be an owl." Instantly he was changed into an owl and soared off into the sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third man ran towards the edge of the cliff, tripped on a rock, and shouted, "Oh shit ..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-2941145251701415141?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/2941145251701415141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=2941145251701415141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2941145251701415141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/2941145251701415141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/happiness-is-holiness.html' title='Happiness is holiness'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-7877159521775136098</id><published>2008-03-23T22:14:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-23T22:15:03.729+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Watching for suicide</title><content type='html'>Why do they put a suicide watch on death row prisoners? Why would you care if a man you're planning to kill anyway, kills himself? Does it spoil the fun? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think about the death row prisoner in Texas who, on the day before his execution, managed to take a drug overdose. They rushed him to a hospital, saved his life, then brought him back to prison and killed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, just to anger him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-7877159521775136098?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/7877159521775136098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=7877159521775136098&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7877159521775136098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/7877159521775136098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/watching-for-suicide.html' title='Watching for suicide'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5464272404188903065</id><published>2008-03-23T22:01:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:07:28.559+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Jest A While</title><content type='html'>An elderly couple, still very loving after all these years, is shocked when the woman's doctor says she has a heart condition that could kill her at any time. She is to avoid stress, eat right, and never, ever have sex again--the strain would be too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple reluctantly try to live by these rules. Both get really horny over time, however, and the husband decides he'd better sleep downstairs on the couch to guard against temptation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This works for a few weeks, until late one night when they meet each other on the stairs--she's coming downstairs, he's heading up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey, I have a confession to make," the woman says, her voice quavering. "I was about to commit suicide."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm glad to hear it, sweetie," the man says, "Because I was just coming upstairs to kill you!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5464272404188903065?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5464272404188903065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5464272404188903065&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5464272404188903065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5464272404188903065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/jest-while.html' title='Jest A While'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-6989833157617690151</id><published>2008-03-23T20:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:33:31.472+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Easter'/><title type='text'>Happy Easter To You All</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/R-aOC0O1JxI/AAAAAAAAABY/57y-Ke3rWv4/s1600-h/pete.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/R-aOC0O1JxI/AAAAAAAAABY/57y-Ke3rWv4/s320/pete.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180984600368064274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many cyber friends are there whom we’ve never met and are unlikely to and how long would it take before you trust them enough to support them or make a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For them and for the others out there......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Happy Easter to you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-6989833157617690151?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/6989833157617690151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=6989833157617690151&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6989833157617690151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/6989833157617690151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-easter-to-you-all.html' title='Happy Easter To You All'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_8jTFD9KUWYg/R-aOC0O1JxI/AAAAAAAAABY/57y-Ke3rWv4/s72-c/pete.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3646191102846376313.post-5916772948435457277</id><published>2008-03-22T13:54:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-01T17:09:54.045+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Get your betty ready</title><content type='html'>If you're considering dying your pubic hair, fear not - you are not the first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a company out of New York named Betty, and they make haircolor specifically for your "hair down there".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normal hair color contains ingredients like peroxide and ammonia. I'm certain I wouldn't want either of those chemicals near any part of my body that is sensitive, and most certainly not the most sensitive spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Betty company was started by Nancy Jarecki, after sitting in a Rome salon and seeing women discreetly leaving with a paper bag, which she later discovered was hair color for each of them to take home and color their pubic hair. Upon further discussion back in the states with a friend who owned a salon, she found that many women are looking for this unique hair color product, whether to cover grays or to change their color for aesthetic reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Betty makes hair color in black, brown, blonde and auburn. For the more adventurous, Betty makes a hot pink color, with other fun colors to follow (check out the holiday stencils that are available online.) And the entire line was developed under the consultation of a toxicologist to ensure the safety of the product.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many women have used traditional hair color for coloring all of their hair. And now, thanks to Nancy, there is a safe, natural-looking, no-mess alternative to regular hair coloring. And at $20 a box, any woman would much rather trust their pubic hair to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all there is to do is go to &lt;a href="www.bettybeauty.com"&gt;www.bettybeauty.com &lt;/a&gt;, choose a color, and "Get your betty ready!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3646191102846376313-5916772948435457277?l=expiry-dates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/feeds/5916772948435457277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3646191102846376313&amp;postID=5916772948435457277&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5916772948435457277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3646191102846376313/posts/default/5916772948435457277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://expiry-dates.blogspot.com/2008/03/get-your-betty-ready.html' title='Get your betty ready'/><author><name>Shanks Pandiath</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06426444026438245279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--iNDV07eEy8/ToAP-xprrZI/AAAAAAAAAiM/xvW9lL3ItuE/s220/sp-4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
