Prison Break

Three women escaped from prison. One was a redhead, one a brunette, and one a blonde.

They ran for miles until they came upon an old barn where they decided to hide in the hayloft and rest. When they climbed up, they found three large gunnysacks and decided to climb into them for camouflage.

About an hour later the sheriff and his deputy came into the barn. The sheriff told his deputy to go up and check out the hayloft. When he got up there the sheriff asked him what he saw and the deputy yelled back, “Just three gunnysacks.”

The sheriff told him to find out what was in them, so the deputy kicked the first sack, which had the redhead in it. She went, “Bow-wow,” so the deputy told the sheriff there was a dog in it.

Then he kicked the sack with the brunette in it. She went, “Meow,” so the deputy told the sheriff there was a cat in it.

Then he kicked the one with the blonde in it, and there was no sound at all. So he kicked it again, and finally the blonde said, “Potatoes.”

Date: Fri, 12 Jun 1998 14:09:53 -0500

Two Digits for a Date

(to the tune of “Gilligan’s Island,” more or less)

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale
Of the doom that is our fate.
That started when programmers used
Two digits for a date.
Two digits for a date.

Main memory was smaller then;
Hard disks were smaller, too.
“Four digits are extravagant,
So let’s get by with two.
So let’s get by with two.”

“This works through 1999,”
The programmers did say.
“Unless we rewrite before that
It all will go away.
It all will go away.”

But Management had not a clue:
“It works fine now, you bet!
A rewrite is a straight expense;
We won’t do it just yet.
We won’t do it just yet.”

Now when 2000 rolls around
It all goes straight to hell,
For zero’s less than ninety-nine,
As anyone can tell.
As anyone can tell.

The mail won’t bring your pension check
It won’t be sent to you
When you’re no longer sixty-eight,
But minus thirty-two.
But minus thirty-two.

The problems we’re about to face
Are frightening, for sure.
And reading every line of code’s
The only certain cure.
The only certain cure.

[key change, big finish]
There’s not much time,
There’s too much code.
(And COBOL-coders, few)
When the century is finished with,
We may be finished, too.
We may be finished, too.

Eight thousand years from now I hope
That things weren’t left too late,
And people aren’t then lamenting
Four digits for a date.
Four digits for a date

Plastic Surgery

A woman named Shirley was from Beverly Hills. One day, she had a heart attack and was taken to Cedars Sinai hospital. While on the operating table, she had a near-death experience. She saw God and asked, “Is this it?”

God said, “No, you have another 30 to 40 years to live.”

Upon her recovery, she decided to stay in the hospital and have collagen shots, cheek implants, a face lift, liposuction and breast augmentation. She even had someone dye her hair. She figured since she had another 30 to 40 years, she might as well make the most of it.

She walked out of Cedars Sinai lobby after the last operation and was killed by an ambulance speeding up to the hospital. She arrived in front of God and said, “I thought you said I had another 30 to 40 years?”

God replied, “Shirley! I didn’t recognize you!”

Asscons

We all know those cute little computer symbols called "emoticons,"
where :) means a smile and :( is a frown. Sometimes these are represented
by :-) and :-( respectively. Well, how about some "asscons"?

Here goes:

(_!_) a regular ass

(__!__) a fat ass

(!) a tight ass

(_._) a flat ass

(_^_) a bubble ass

(_*_) a sore ass

(_!__) a lop-sided ass

{_!_} a swishy ass

(_x_) kiss my ass

(_X_) leave my ass alone

(_zzz_) a tired ass

(_o^o_) a wise ass

(_13_) an unlucky ass

(_e=mc2_) a smart ass

(_$_) Money coming out of his ass

(_?_) Dumb Ass

Junk Mail 3

Late in 1997 I wrote a letter to my town’s Postmaster. I requested that they declare my residential mailbox vacant. After a week or so, no more mail. 🙂 What I had done before that was to fill out one of those Hold Mail forms, as if I was going on vacation. And I left the restart date open. After about five weeks, I got an enormous stack of mail in my box. Every single item was junk mail.

This week I called eleven different companies that have been sending me catalogs to my (old) business address, 15 months after the business closed. They were all friendly, and said I’d be off their list. I also called PC Magazine, and they said they would stop selling my name and address.

I also emailed or used web pages for five other companies. Helpful Hint: When you order from CDW (a computer hardware/software mail order place) they will add you to their mailing list. It takes months to get off of their list. And then if you order something at your office, they will re-activate your personal account so you start getting the catalogs at home AND at your office.

At this point, the only junk mail I am getting on a regular basis is from:

  • Krogers. This grocery store chain I am boycotting.
  • Virginia Tech. The alumni association likes sending me advertising about junk that I can buy. I am also a VT student again, so am getting junk mail about yearbooks, meal plans (really bad, expensive food), and gift packs.
  • Columbia House. You know, the company where you buy 14 CD’s for $1, and only buy 5 more at regular club, yadda yadda, yadda. They bought my name from the Food Lion MVP program. So I have cancelled my membership in the MVP program. And complained to the Better Business Bureau about Columbia House’s misleading advertising. They send me a junk mailing trying to get me back to their programs. But I never was a customer of theirs! That seems like misleading advertising to me.

Little Red Riding Hood in the 1990’s

There once was a young person named Little Red Riding Hood who lived on the edge of a large forest full of endangered owls and rare plants that would probably provide a cure for cancer if only someone took the time to study them.

Red Riding Hood lived with a nurture giver whom she sometimes referred to as “mother,” although she didn’t mean to imply by this term that she would have thought less of the person if a close biological link did not in fact exist.

Nor did she intend to denigrate the equal value of nontraditional households, although she was sorry if this was the impression conveyed.

One day her mother asked her to take a basket of organically grown fruit and mineral water to her grandmother’s house.

“But mother, won’t this be stealing work from the unionized people who have struggled for years to earn the right to carry all packages between various people in the woods?”

Red Riding Hood’s mother assured her that she had called the union boss and gotten a special compassionate mission exemption form.

“But mother, aren’t you oppressing me by ordering me to do this?”

Red Riding Hood’s mother pointed out that it was impossible for women to oppress each other, since all women were equally oppressed until all women were free.

“But mother, then shouldn’t you have my brother carry the basket, since he’s an oppressor, and should learn what it’s like to be oppressed?”

And Red Riding Hood’s mother explained that her brother was attending a special rally for animal rights, and besides, this wasn’t stereotypical women’s work, but an empowering deed that would help engender a feeling of community.

“But won’t I be oppressing Grandma, by implying that she’s sick and hence unable to independently further her own selfhood?”

But Red Riding Hood’s mother explained that her grandmother wasn’t actually sick or incapacitated or mentally handicapped in any way, although that was not to imply that any of these conditions were inferior to what some people called “health.”

Thus Red Riding Hood felt that she could get behind the idea of delivering the basket to her grandmother, and so she set off.

Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place, but Red Riding Hood knew that this was an irrational fear based on cultural paradigms instilled by a patriarchal society that regarded the natural world as an exploitable resource, and hence believed that natural predators were in fact intolerable competitors.

Other people avoided the woods for fear of thieves and deviants, but Red Riding Hood felt that in a truly classless society all marginalized peoples would be able to “come out” of the woods and be accepted as valid lifestyle role models.

On her way to Grandma’s house, Red Riding Hood passed a woodchopper, and wandered off the path, in order to examine some flowers.

She was startled to find herself standing before a Wolf, who asked her what was in her basket.

Red Riding Hood’s teacher had warned her never to talk to strangers, but she was confident in taking control of her own budding sexuality, and chose to dialog with the Wolf.

She replied, “I am taking my Grandmother some healthful snacks in a gesture of solidarity.”

The Wolf said, “You know, my dear, it isn’t safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone.”

Red Riding Hood said, “I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop an alternative and yet entirely valid world view. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would prefer to be on my way.”

Red Riding Hood returned to the main path, and proceeded toward her Grandmother’s house.

But because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma’s house.

He burst into the house and ate Grandma, a course of action affirmative of his nature as a predator.

Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist gender role notions, he put on Grandma’s nightclothes, crawled under the bedclothes, and awaited developments.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, “Grandma, I have brought you some cruelty-free snacks to salute you in your role of wise and nurturing matriarch.”

The Wolf said softly “Come closer, child, so that I might see you.”

Red Riding Hood said, “Goodness! Grandma, what big eyes you have!”

“You forget that I am optically challenged.”

“And Grandma, what an enormous–er–what a fine nose you have.”

“Naturally, I could have had it fixed to help my acting career, but I didn’t give in to such societal pressures, my child.”

“And Grandma, what very big, sharp teeth you have!”

The Wolf could not take any more of these specialist slurs, and, in a reaction appropriate for his accustomed milieu, he leaped out of bed, grabbed Little Red Riding Hood, and opened his jaws so wide that she could see her poor Grandmother cowering in his belly.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Red Riding Hood bravely shouted.

“You must request my permission before proceeding to a new level of intimacy!”

The Wolf was so startled by this statement that he loosened his grasp on her.

At the same time, the woodchopper burst into the cottage, brandishing an ax.

“Hands off!” cried the woodchopper.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” cried Little Red Riding Hood. “If I let you help me now, I would be expressing a lack of confidence in my own abilities, which would lead to poor self esteem and lower achievement scores on college entrance exams.”

“Last chance, sister! Get your hands off that endangered species! This is an FBI sting!” screamed the woodchopper, and when Little Red Riding Hood nonetheless made a sudden motion, he sliced off her head.

“Thank goodness you got here in time,” said the Wolf. “The brat and her grandmother lured me in here. I thought I was a goner.”

“No, I think I’m the real victim, here,” said the woodchopper. “I’ve been dealing with my anger ever since I saw her picking those protected flowers earlier. And now I’m going to have such a trauma. Do you have any aspirin?”

“Sure,” said the Wolf.

“Thanks.”

— Author Unknown

Praying

A very religious man lived right next door to an atheist. While the religious one prayed day in, day out, and was constantly on his knees in communion with his Lord, the atheist never even looked twice at a church. However, the atheist’s life was good, he had a well-paying job and a beautiful wife, and his children were healthy and good-natured, whereas the pious man’s job was strenuous and his wages were low, his wife was getting fatter every day and his kids wouldn’t give him the time of the day.

So one day, deep in prayer as usual, he raised his eyes towards heaven and asked: “Oh God, I honour you every day, I ask your advice for every problem and confess to you my every sin. Yet my neighbour, who doesn’t even believe in you and certainly never prays, seems blessed with every happiness, while I go poor and suffer many an indignity. Why is this?”

And a great voice was heard from above: “BECAUSE HE DOESN’T BOTHER ME ALL THE TIME!”

New Technology

NEW TECHNOLOGY ARRIVAL CAUSES GREAT EXCITMENT!

BOOK is a revolutionary breakthrough in technology: no wires, no electric circuits, no batteries, nothing to be connected or switched on. It’s so easy to use even a child can operate it. Compact and portable, it can be used anywhere – even sitting in an armchair by the fire-yet it is powerful enough to hold as much information as a CD-ROM disc.

Here’s how it works: BOOK is constructed of sequentially numbered sheets of paper (recyclable), each capable of holding thousands of bits of information. The pages are locked together with a custom-fit device called a binder, which keeps the sheets in their correct sequence.

Opaque Paper Technology (OPT) allows manufacturers to use both sides of the sheet, doubling the information density and cutting costs. Experts are divided on the prospects for further increases in information density; for now, BOOKS with more information simply use more pages. Each sheet is scanned optically, registering information directly into your brain. A flick of the finger takes you to the next sheet.

BOOK may be taken up at any time and used merely by opening it. BOOK never crashes or requires re booting, though like other display devices it can become unusable if exposed to high ambient temperatures. The “browse” feature allows you to move instantly to any sheet, and move forward or backward as you wish. Many come with an “index” feature, which pinpoints the exact location of any selected information for instant retrieval.

BOOK can be stored for an almost unlimited amount of time without connecting any outside power source. Many BOOK units may be
stored together, as they cause no interference with one another, even when placed in close proximity.

An optional “BOOKmark” accessory allows you to open BOOK to the exact place you left it in a previous session-even if the BOOK has been closed. BOOKmarks fit universal design standards; thus, various manufacturers can use a single BOOKmark in BOOKs.
Conversely, numerous BOOKmarkers can be used in a single BOOK if he user wants to store numerous views at once. Only the number of pages in the BOOK limits the number.

You can also make personal notes next to BOOK text entries with an optional programming tool, the Portable Erasable Nib
Cryptic Intercommunication Language Stylus (PENCILS). Portable, durable, and affordable, BOOK is being hailed as a precursor of a new entertainment wave. Also, BOOK’s appeal seems so certain that thousands of content creators have committed to the platform and investors are reportedly flocking. Look for a flood of new titles soon.

Addicted to the Net

You might be addicted to the Net if…

  • You actually wore a blue ribbon to protest the Communications Decency Act.
  • You kiss your significant other’s home page.
  • Your bookmarks list takes 15 minutes to scroll from top to bottom.
  • Your eyeglasses have a web site burned in on them.
  • You find yourself brainstorming for new subjects to search.
  • You refuse to go to a vacation spot with no electricity and no phone lines.
  • You finally do take that vacation, but only after buying a cellular modem and a laptop.
  • You spend half of the plane trip with your laptop on your lap…and your child in the overhead compartment.
  • All your daydreaming is preoccupied with getting a faster connection to the net: 28.8…ISDN…cable modem…T1…T3.
  • And even your night dreams are in HTML.
  • You find yourself typing “com” after every period when using a word processor.com
  • You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like you just pulled the plug on a loved one.
  • You refer to going to the bathroom as downloading.
  • You start introducing yourself as “Jim at I-I-Net dot net dot au
  • Your heart races faster and beats irregularly each time you see a new WWW site address in print or on TV, even though you’ve never had heart problems before.
  • You step out of your room and realize that your family has moved and you don’t have a clue when it happened.
  • You turn on your intercom when leaving the room so you can hear if new e-mail arrives.
  • Your spouse drapes a wig over your monitor to remind you of what they look like.
  • All of your friends have an @ in their names.
  • When looking at a pageful of someone else’s links, you notice all of them are already highlighted in purple.
  • Your dog has its own home page.
  • You’ve already visited all the links at Yahoo and you’re halfway through Lycos.
  • You can’t call your mother…she doesn’t have a modem.
  • You realize there is not a sound in the house and you have no idea where your children are.
  • You believe nothing looks sexier than a man/woman in underwear illuminated only by a 17″ inch svga monitor.
  • You check your mail. It says “no new messages.” So you check it again.
  • You refer to your age as 3.x.
  • You have comandeered your teenager’s phone line for the net and even his friends know not to call on his line anymore.
  • Your phone bill comes to your doorstep in a box.
  • Even though you died last week, you’ve managed to retain OPS on your favorite IRC channel.
  • You code your homework in HTML and give your instructor the URL.
  • You don’t know what sex over three of your closest friends are, because they have neutral nicknames and you never bothered to ask.
  • You name your children Eudora, Mozilla and Dotcom.
  • You laugh at people with 2400 baud modems.
  • Your husband tells you he’s had the beard for 2 months.
  • Your wife tells you she cut her hair last month.
  • You miss more than five meals a week downloading the latest games from Apogee.
  • You start looking for hot HTML addresses in public restrooms.
  • You wake up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom and stop and check your e-mail on the way back to bed.
  • You move into a new house and decide to Netscape before you landscape.
  • You tell the cab driver you live at http://123.elm.street/house/bluetrim.html
  • You actually try that 123.elm.street address.
  • Your virtual significant other finds a new net sweetheart with a larger bandwidth.
  • You tell the kids they can’t use the computer because “Daddy’s got work to do” and you don’t even have a job.
  • Your friends no longer send you e-mail…they just log on to your IRC channel.
  • You buy a Captain Kirk chair with a built-in keyboard and mouse.
  • Your spouse makes a new rule: “The computer cannot come to bed.”
  • You are so familiar with the WWW that you find the search engines useless.
  • You get a tattoo that says “This body best viewed with Netscape 1.1 or higher.”
  • You never have to deal with busy signals when calling your ISP…because you never log off.
  • The last person you picked up was only a jpeg.
  • You put a pillow case over your laptop so your lover doesn’t see it while you are pretending to catch your breath.
  • You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in front of your computer with a toilet.
  • You forget what year it is.
  • You start tilting your head sideways to smile.
  • You ask your doctor to implant a gig in your brain.
  • You leave the modem speaker on after connecting because you think it sounds like the ocean wind…the perfect soundtrack for “surfing the net”.
  • You begin to wonder how on earth your service provider is allowed to call 200 hours per month “unlimited.”
  • You turn on your computer and turn off your spouse.
  • Your spouse says communication is important in a marriage…so you buy another computer and install a second phone line so the two of you can chat.
  • As your car crashes through the guardrail on a mountain road, your first instinct is to search for the “back” button.

Bragging

Four Catholic ladies were having coffee one afternoon, bragging to one another about their successful sons. The first woman tells her friends, “My son is a priest. When he walks into a room, everyone calls him ‘Father’.”

The second Catholic woman chirps in, “My son is a Bishop. Whenever he walks into a room, people call him ‘Your Grace’.”

The third woman crone says, “My son is a cardinal. Whenever he walks into a room, he’s called ‘Your Eminence’.”

Since the fourth woman just sips her coffee in silence, the first three give her this subtle, “Well…?” sort of look. “My son is 6’2″ has broad square shoulders, is terribly handsome and dresses exceptionally well. Whenever he walks into a room, women just say ‘Oh my God…’.”