<?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-5863358509080509209</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:25:03.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my friends!!!!!!!</title><subtitle type='html'>i call it "my friends" because my friends are there .</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5863358509080509209/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Neelam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13053498775169180246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5863358509080509209.post-3099033925563326948</id><published>2008-08-18T07:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T07:54:13.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The final exam</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="title"&gt;The final exam&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;The final examination for an English class was two hours long and exam booklets were provided. The teacher was very strict and told the class that any exam that was not on his desk in exactly two hours would not be accepted and the student would fail. A half hour into the exam, Little Johnny came rushing in and asked the teacher for an exam booklet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"You`re not going to have time to finish this," the teacher stated sarcastically as he handed him a booklet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"Yes I will," replied Little Johnny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;He then took a seat and began writing. After two hours, the teacher called for the exams, and all the students filed up and handed them in except Johnny, who continued writing. Fifteen minutes later, Little Johnny came up to the teacher who was sitting at his desk preparing for his next class. He attempted to put his exam on the stack of exam booklets already there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"No you don`t, I`m not going to accept that. It`s late."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;Little Johnny looked incredulous and angry. "Do you know WHO I am?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"No, as a matter of fact I don`t," replied the teacher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" Little Johnny said again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"No, and I don`t care." replied the teacher with an air of superiority.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;"Good," replied Little Johnny, who quickly lifted the stack of completed exams, stuffed his in the middle, and walked out of the room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5863358509080509209-3099033925563326948?l=neelamr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/feeds/3099033925563326948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5863358509080509209&amp;postID=3099033925563326948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5863358509080509209/posts/default/3099033925563326948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5863358509080509209/posts/default/3099033925563326948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/2008/08/final-exam.html' title='The final exam'/><author><name>Neelam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13053498775169180246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5863358509080509209.post-6285543527766159356</id><published>2008-08-18T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T07:50:46.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The dollar bill game</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;A young boy enters a barber shop and the barber whispers to his customer, "This is the dumbest kid in the world. Watch while I prove it to you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;The barber puts a dollar bill in one hand and two quarters in the other, then calls the boy over and asks, "Which do you want, son?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;The boy takes the quarters and leaves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;"What did I tell you?" said the barber. "That kid never learns!" Later, when the customer leaves, he sees the same young boy coming out of the ice cream store.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;"Hey, son! May I ask you a question? Why did you take the quarters instead of the dollar bill?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;The boy licked his cone and replied, "Because the day I take the dollar, the game's over!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5863358509080509209-6285543527766159356?l=neelamr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/feeds/6285543527766159356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5863358509080509209&amp;postID=6285543527766159356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5863358509080509209/posts/default/6285543527766159356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5863358509080509209/posts/default/6285543527766159356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/2008/08/dollar-bill-game.html' title='The dollar bill game'/><author><name>Neelam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13053498775169180246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5863358509080509209.post-1195134365477131455</id><published>2008-08-18T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T07:47:15.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DOES LALOO HAVE BREAKES</title><content type='html'>Rabri: Kyon ji, aapne gadi ki speed kyon bdha di hai?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laloo: Break fail ho gayi hai, accident hone se pehle hum ghar pahounch jaaige.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* What do they call French Toilet in Bihar ?&lt;br /&gt;La loo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Once Laloo was coming out of Airport. As there was huge rush the security guard told Laloo "WAIT SIR" for which Laloo replied "65Kgs" and moved on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Once Laloo wanted to know the time difference between Bihar and Las Vegas. So he called up the Tourist department and asked them "Ji could you tell me the time difference between Patna and Las Begas...". The man at the other end replies "One second sir..." and Laloo immediately replies "thank you" and puts the phone down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5863358509080509209-1195134365477131455?l=neelamr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/feeds/1195134365477131455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5863358509080509209&amp;postID=1195134365477131455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5863358509080509209/posts/default/1195134365477131455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5863358509080509209/posts/default/1195134365477131455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neelamr.blogspot.com/2008/08/does-laloo-have-breakes.html' title='DOES LALOO HAVE BREAKES'/><author><name>Neelam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13053498775169180246</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
