<?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-4459247510663741853</id><updated>2011-07-08T01:04:42.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Fantasy Jokes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-1858761238478345915</id><published>2009-11-26T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T08:06:58.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hume Troubles</title><content type='html'>There was this hume sitting at a bar, just looking at his drink. He stayed like that for half an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, this big trouble-making galka walks up next to him, takes the drink from the guy, and just drinks it all down in one gulp. The poor hume just stares at him for a few seconds and then starts crying. The galka says, "Come on man, I was just joking. Here, I'll buy you another drink. I just can't stand to see a hume cry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, it's not that. This day is the worst of my life.", the Hume proclaims, "First, I fall asleep and arive late at the Auction House. My boss, outrageous that i couldn't obtain the materials he wanted, fires me. When I leave the Auction House, to the stables to feed my chocobo, I found out it ran away. The stable holder said that there was nothing they could do. I walked home along the port, and halfway, I trip and my wallet with all my gil falls into the water."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got home early, and when I get there, I find my hot mithra wife in bed with a tanned muscled elvaan. I leave home, and come to this bar. And just when I was thinking about putting an end to my life, you show up and drink my poison."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-1858761238478345915?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1858761238478345915/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/hume-troubles.html#comment-form' title='1 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/1858761238478345915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/1858761238478345915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/hume-troubles.html' title='Hume Troubles'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-2007176710617403195</id><published>2009-11-26T07:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T08:08:30.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All that glitters is not gold.</title><content type='html'>A well dressed elvaan in gold colored armor enters the shararat teahouse in Whitegate, sits down on one of the seats and orders four very expensive drinks. A cute mithra walks over and serves them on a silver tray, setting all four in front of the patron. The elvaan then consumes all four drinks in a matter of seconds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mithra comments, "Wow, you sure must have a problem." &lt;br /&gt;"Lady, if you had what I had," the elvaan replies, &lt;br /&gt;"you'd drink them fast, too." &lt;br /&gt;Leaning over, the sympathetic mithra waiter asks, &lt;br /&gt;"What do you have, sir?". &lt;br /&gt;"Fifty gil".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-2007176710617403195?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2007176710617403195/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/all-that-glitters-is-not-gold.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/2007176710617403195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/2007176710617403195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/all-that-glitters-is-not-gold.html' title='All that glitters is not gold.'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-2272742209980385044</id><published>2009-11-26T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T07:57:07.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pocket Galka</title><content type='html'>A galka walks into a bar in Jeuno and says to the bartender, "Give me two single glasses of the strongest stuff you got".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure", the bartender replies, "do you want them both now or one at a time?".&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, both now", the galka replies, "one's for me and one's for my little friend here", and with that the galka pulls a three inch tall galka out of his shirt pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bartender looked at the little galka in amazement and asks, "Can he drink?"&lt;br /&gt;"Sure" replied the big galka and with that the three inch tall guy supped back his drink.&lt;br /&gt;"That's amazing" replied the bartender, "what else can he do? Can he walk?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that said the galka flipped a few gil down to the other end of the bar and asks the little fella to get it. Sure enough, he runs down the bar and retrieves the coins, picks them up and jogs back to the galka. &lt;br /&gt;"That really is amazing" replied the bartender, "Can he talk?"&lt;br /&gt;"Of course" says the galka, "Hey Mighty Mountain, tell him about that time we were in Windurst and you called Shantotto a wanker..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-2272742209980385044?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/2272742209980385044/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/pocket-galka.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/2272742209980385044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/2272742209980385044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/pocket-galka.html' title='The Pocket Galka'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-455324067861922889</id><published>2009-11-26T07:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T07:51:13.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shy Elvaan</title><content type='html'>A very shy Elvaan who's out for a drink sees a beautiful Mithra sitting at the bar. After an hour of gathering up his courage he finally goes over to her and asks, tentatively, "Um, would you mind if I chatted with you for a while?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She responds by yelling, at the top of her lungs, "No, I won't sleep with you tonight!" Everyone in the bar is now staring at them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, the Elvaan is hopelessly and completely embarrassed and he slinks back to his table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, the Mithra walks over to him and apologizes. She smiles at him and says, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. You see, I'm from Windurst's Aurastery and I'm studying how people respond to embarrassing situations." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which he responds, at the top of his lungs, "What do you mean, 200,000 gil?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-455324067861922889?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/455324067861922889/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/shy-elvaan.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/455324067861922889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/455324067861922889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/11/shy-elvaan.html' title='The Shy Elvaan'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-839780169948108902</id><published>2009-08-18T04:03:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T04:04:03.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tea Talk</title><content type='html'>A hume, elvaan, and mithra lady are entertaining each other one day and drinking tea, when the topic of birth control comes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hume proclaims, "I always use Protect! It's the safest way to be certain! Besides, you never know what diseases those adventurers may have picked up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elvaan gets a clever glean in her eyes and declares that she has a secret technique that was taught to her by her mother. Each morning she drinks a sip of Panacea, and for as long as she continues to do this, she will not become pregnant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hume and mithra nod approvingly, admitting they did not know that. The mithra then smiles and says simply, "Well I use the stool method."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perplexed, the elvaan asks, "What's the stool method? I've never heard of it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mithra replies, "It's simple really! My husband is a Tarutaru, and as he's about to finish I kick the stool out from under him!".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-839780169948108902?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/839780169948108902/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/tea-talk.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/839780169948108902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/839780169948108902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/tea-talk.html' title='Tea Talk'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-3690890112323936182</id><published>2009-08-18T04:03:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T04:03:45.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hume Smuggler</title><content type='html'>A hume in Jeuno comes up to the Airship dock leading to Kazham with a Chocobo following him. He's got two large bags over his back. The guard stops him and says, "What's in the bags?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sand," answered the hume. The guard looks and him and shakes his head. "Step away from the chocobo, sir."&lt;br /&gt;The guard detains the hume overnight and has the sand analyzed by Jeuno's finest alchemists, only to discover that there is nothing but pure sand in the bags. He releases the hume and lets him proceed to the docks. A week later, the same thing happens. The guard asks, "What's in the bags?". "Sand," says the hume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guard does his thorough examination and discovers that the bags contain nothing but sand. He gives the sand back to the hume, and the hume walks off to the docks with his Chocobo. This sequence of events is repeated every day for three years. Finally, the hume doesn't show up one day and the guard meets him many years later in a bar in Norg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Buddy," says the guard, "I know you were smuggling something. It's driving me crazy. It's all I think about...Just between you and me, what are you smuggling?". The hume sips his yagudo drink and says, "Chocobos."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-3690890112323936182?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/3690890112323936182/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/hume-smuggler.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/3690890112323936182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/3690890112323936182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/hume-smuggler.html' title='The Hume Smuggler'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-9025791925821557069</id><published>2009-08-18T04:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T04:03:25.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tiny Beastmaster</title><content type='html'>There was this friendly little tarutaru who worked hard to reach level 30. He had always wanted to be a beastmaster after leveling all those boring mage jobs before it and unlocked the job minutes after reaching Lv.30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first few levels as a BST weren't so bad really. He had some mischarms, but that happens. He did notice he was pretty sore in some places better left unnamed after running around for a little bit. It became worse and worse the more he went on. He didn't think much of it till his EXP party in Qufim. He ran over to them and became very sore, like someone kicked him between the legs. He told the party in Qufim that he wouldn't be able to make it, and turned back to visit the doctor in Upper Jeuno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor greeted him with a smile and told him to sit down. He took a look at him for a while, lost in thought. "Ah, here's the problem", he said and took out a pair of scissors. The tarutaru closed his eyes when he heared the snip, snip, snip, but it didn't really hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's it?", he asked, "Thanks doc!". He called his party to ask if they still had room for him, and was welcomed in it. He ran over without any problems. Fought mighty beasts and wasn't in pain any more. After the party ended and he bid his farewells to it's members, he returned to jeuno and visited the doctor again. He ran up to him and begged the doctor to tell him what miracles he performed to cure his problem. To which the doctor replied, "I trimmed down the tops of your boots".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-9025791925821557069?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/9025791925821557069/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/tiny-beastmaster.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/9025791925821557069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/9025791925821557069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/tiny-beastmaster.html' title='The Tiny Beastmaster'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-8740318580277229293</id><published>2009-08-18T04:02:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T04:03:06.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The NM Hunting Ranger</title><content type='html'>A high level Elvaan ranger is soloing in Bhaflau thickets. He carries his trusty Hellfire with him. After a while, he spots a notorious Mamool, takes aim, and fires. When the smoke clears, the Mamool is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A moment later the Mamool taps the ranger on the shoulder and says, "No one shoots at me and gets away with it. You have two choices: I can rip your throat out and send you back to your homepoint, or you can drop your trousers, bend over, and I'll do you in the ass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ranger decides that anything is better than returning to his homepoint with the few points of exp he has as his buffer, so he drops his trousers and bends over, and the Mamool does what he said he would do. After the Mamool has left, the ranger pulls up his trousers again and staggers back into Al Zahbi. He's pretty mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He buys some Silver bullets instead of the low damage regular bullets he carried with him and returns to Bhaflau thickets. He sees the same Mamool, aims, and fires. When the smoke clears, the Mamool is gone. A moment later the Mamool taps the ranger on the shoulder and says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, the ranger pulls his trousers back up, crawls back into town, and buys a Culverin and loads it up with Cannon shells. Now he's really mad. He returns to Bhaflau thickets, sees the Mamool, aims, and fires. The force of the Culverin blast knocks the ranger flat on his back. When the smoke clears, the Mamool is standing over him and says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not doing this for the drops, are you?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-8740318580277229293?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/8740318580277229293/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/nm-hunting-ranger.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/8740318580277229293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/8740318580277229293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/nm-hunting-ranger.html' title='The NM Hunting Ranger'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-1900094535697018269</id><published>2009-08-18T04:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T04:02:43.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blonde Elvaan</title><content type='html'>So there was this blonde elvaan, not too bright fellow, in Jugner Forest one day. He was from Bastok, and worked for master Cid... but they got kinda tired of him and send him out into the field to do some research there on wildlife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thing he encountered was a beetle, nothing too uncommon there. He grabbed his notepad and figured he'd start his experiment here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulled out a leg from the beetle, and told it to run. The beetle naturally afraid for it's life, ran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, interesting", the blonde elvaan went, as he noted it all down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He caught up with it, and pulled out another leg and told it to run. The beetle ran, but this time with a little more difficulty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blonde elvaan looked at it, nodded, and noted it down on his pad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He caught up with it, pulled out all it's legs, and told it to run again. It just stayed in it's place. He told it to run once more, but he just layed there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've made an amazing discovery!", the blonde elvaan went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you pull out all the legs of a beetle, he becomes deaf!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-1900094535697018269?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1900094535697018269/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/blonde-elvaan.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/1900094535697018269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/1900094535697018269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/blonde-elvaan.html' title='The Blonde Elvaan'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-1543548345225984678</id><published>2009-08-18T04:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T04:02:25.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Depressed Mithra</title><content type='html'>A depressed young mithra was so desperate that she decided to end her life by throwing herself into the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she went down to the docks in Mhaura, a handsome young sailor noticed her tears, took pity on her, and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, you've got a lot to live for. I'm off to Aht Urhgan in the morning, and if you like, I can stow you away on my ship.&lt;br /&gt;I'll take good care of you and bring you food every day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving closer, he slipped his arm around her shoulder and added, "I'll keep you happy, and you'll keep me happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mithra looked down the docks for a moment in doubt, but then nodded 'yes.' After all, what did she have to lose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, the sailor brought her aboard and hid her in a life-boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From then on, every night he brought her three mithkabobs and a piece of fruit, and they made passionate love until dawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three weeks later, during a routine search, she was discovered by the captain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing here?" the Captain asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have an arrangement with one of the sailors," the mithra explained. "He's taking me to Aht Urhgan, and he's screwing me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He sure is, lady... This is the Ferry to Selbina!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-1543548345225984678?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/1543548345225984678/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/depressed-mithra.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/1543548345225984678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/1543548345225984678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/depressed-mithra.html' title='The Depressed Mithra'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4459247510663741853.post-6429389975350128954</id><published>2009-08-18T04:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T04:01:54.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hume and the Chocobo</title><content type='html'>There was a hume from Bastok riding through eastern altepa desert on his chocobo on his way to Rabao. He had been travelling for so long that he felt the need to have sex. Obviously there were no women in the desert so the man turned to his chocobo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried to position himself to have sex with his chocobo but the chocobo ran away. The hume ran to catch up to the chocobo and got back on and started to ride again. Soon he was feeling the urge to have sex again so once again he turned to his chocobo. The chocobo refused by running away again. So he caught up to it again and got on it for a second time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally after riding the chocobo through the whole desert the man came to the zoneline. There was a broken automaton with three big chested beautiful Mithra Puppetmasters standing around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went up to them and asked the women if they needed any help.&lt;br /&gt;The hottest girl said ,"If you fix our automaton we will do anything you want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hume luckily knew a thing or two about automatons and fixed it in a flash. When he finished all three girls asked, "How could we ever repay you Mister?". After thinking for a short while he replied,"Could you hold my chocobo?".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4459247510663741853-6429389975350128954?l=finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/feeds/6429389975350128954/comments/default' title='Reacties plaatsen'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/hume-and-chocobo.html#comment-form' title='0 reacties'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/6429389975350128954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4459247510663741853/posts/default/6429389975350128954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finalfantasyjokes.blogspot.com/2009/08/hume-and-chocobo.html' title='The Hume and the Chocobo'/><author><name>Surian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04968481275576980545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v196/Silverwolf_1985/Suri_photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
