Bush asks how she knows if they’re intelligent.

“I do so by asking them the right questions,” says the Queen. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Bush watches as the Queen phones Tony Blair and says, “Mr. Prime Minister, please answer this question: your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or sister. Who is it?”

Tony Blair responds, “It’s me, ma’am.”

“Correct. Thank you and good-bye, sir,” says the Queen. She hangs up and says, “Did you get that, Mr. Bush?”

Bush nods: “Yes ma’am. Thanks a lot. I’ll definitely be using that!”

Bush, upon returning to Washington, decides he’d better put the Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to the test. Bush summons Jesse Helms to the White House and says, “Senator Helms, I wonder if you can answer a question for me.”

“Why, of course, sir. What’s on your mind?”

Bush poses the question: “Uhh, your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or your sister. Who is it?”

Helms hems and haws and finally asks, “Can I think about it and get back to you?”

Bush agrees, and Helms leaves. He immediately calls a meeting of other senior Republican senators, and they puzzle over the question for several hours, but nobody can come up with an answer. Finally, in desperation, Helms calls Colin Powell at the State Department and explains his problem.

“Now look here, son, your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or your sister. Who is it?”

Powell answers immediately, “It’s me, of course.”

Much relieved, Helms rushes back to the White House, finds George Bush, and exclaims, “I know the answer, sir! I know who it is! It’s Colin Powell!”

And Bush replies in disgust, “Wrong, you dumb shit, it’s Tony Blair!”

“These fairways seem to be getting longer too,” said one of the others.

“The sand traps seem to be bigger than I remember them too,” said the third senior.

After hearing enough from his senior buddies, the oldest and wisest of the four of them, at 87 years old, piped up and said, “Just be thankful we’re still on the right side of the grass!”

The first guy was a Earnhardt fan, and put his hat over her left breast.

The second guy was a Elliot fan, and put it over her right breast!! The last guy was a Gordon fan, and put his hat over her crotch.

When the police arrived, the officer looks at the girl and goes to evaluate. He first picks up the Earnhardt hat, puts it back down and writes something down. He does the same with the Elliot hat. Then he picks up the Gordon hat and puts it down then picks it up again.

He does this several times until the Gordon fan says, “What are you? Some kind of pervert?”

The officer replies, “No, I just usually find an asshole under one of these hats.”

After shooting the blank gun to end the half, the Dallas Cowboy players start shooting back with live ammunition.

Calling “heads or tails” but never getting any. . . “head” or “tail”.

Players get “the wave”. . . refs get “the finger”.

Anyone who makes a call against the Detroit Lions risks pissing off their last remaining fan.

With Reggie White retired, the penalty for “Illegal use of a racial slur” is meaningless.

Just when we thought it was safe to be an NFL Ref, we have to go back to frickin’ CLEVELAND!!!

Thanks to instant replay, picking nose during a game is twice as risky.

Everyone else gets to wear their Autumn colors, but for me it’s black and white week after week after week!

Don King only bribes boxing judges.

Official rule books not made in Braille.

I’m the one that everybody wants to kill, so where’s MY helmet and pads?!

Finally his exasperated partner says, ‘What the hell is taking so long? Hit the damned ball!’

The guy answers, ‘My wife is up there watching me from the clubhouse. I want to make this a perfect shot.’

‘Give me a break! You don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of hitting her from here.’

Send

“I liked it, but I couldn’t understand why they were killing each other for 25 cents, ” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, everyone kept yelling, ‘Get the quarter back!’”

“My wife is up there watching me from the clubhouse, and I want to make
this shot a good one,” said Bob.

“Good Lord,” said David, “you haven’t got a chance of hitting her from
here.”

One Sunday morning, the Reverend Father Norton woke up and
realizing it was an exceptionally beautiful and sunny early
spring day, decided he just had to play golf.

So… he told the Associate Pastor that he was feeling sick
and convinced him to say Mass for him that day. As soon as
the Associate Pastor left the room, Father Norton headed out
of town to a golf course about forty miles away. This way he
knew he wouldn’t accidentally meet anyone he knew from
his parish.

Setting up on the first tee, he was alone. After all, it was
Sunday morning and everyone else was in church! At about this
time, Saint Peter leaned over to the Lord while looking down
from the heavens and exclaimed, “You’re not going to let him
get away with this, are you?”

The Lord sighed, and said, “No, I guess not.”

Just then Father Norton hit the ball and it shot straight
towards the pin, dropping just short of it, rolled up and
fell into the hole. It WAS A 420-YARD HOLE IN ONE!

St. Peter was astonished. He looked at the Lord and asked,
“Why did you let him do that?” The Lord smiled and replied,
“Who is he going to tell?”

The sun was now shining directly down on their heads and they realized that they’d been out at sea for nearly 4 hrs.

Jerry turns around and says, “So much for the great fishing spot! I think I’m ready to head in!”

John points east and replies, “Well, let’s just try casting over there.”

Jerry agrees and not long after they started hauling in loads and loads of fish.

Jerry gets a look of glee on his face shouts out to John, “This is the best fishing spot ever!”

“I know”, says John. “We should definitely mark this place.

“Don’t worry,” says Jerry, “I’ll mark it down.”

As they head back to shore, John asks Jerry how he marked their fishing spot.

Jerry answers, “Well I marked the side of the boat! Right here, see, a red cross!”

John gets a surprised look turns to his friend and says, “That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard! What if we don’t take out the same boat tomorrow!”

Second Guy: That’s nothing, I had to promise my wife that I will build
her a new deck for the pool.

Third Guy: Man, you both have it easy! I had to promise my wife that I
will remodel the kitchen for her.

They continue to play the hole when they realized that the fourth guy has
not said a word. So they ask him, You haven’t said anything about what
you had to do to be able to come golfing this weekend. What’s the deal?

Fourth Guy: I just set my alarm for 5:30a.m., When it goes off, I shut
off my alarm, give the wife a budge and say, ‘Golf Course or Intercourse?’
So she says, Wear your sweater.

Fish don’t compare you to other fishermen neither.
And don’t want to know how many other fish you caught.

In fishing you lie about the one that got away.
In loving you lie about the one you caught.

You can catch and release a fish. You don’t have to lie, and promise to still be friends after you let it go.

You don’t necessarily have to change your line to keep catching fish.

You can catch a fish on a 20-cent frozen squid.
If you want to catch a woman you’re talking dinner and a movie minimum.

Fish don’t mind if you fall asleep in the middle of fishing.

His wife rolls over and says, “What in the world was that?”

The old man replied, “It’s fart football!”

A few minutes later the wife lets one go and says - “Touchdown, tie score!”

After about five minutes the old man farts again and says - “Touchdown, I’m ahead 14 to 7!”

Not to be out done the wife rips another one and says, - “Touchdown, tie score!”

Five seconds go by and she lets out a squeaker and says - “Fieldgoal, I lead 17 to 14!”

Now the pressures on and the old man refuses to get beat by a woman so he strains real hard but to no avail. Realizing a defeat is totally unacceptable he gives it everything he has but instead of farting he soils the bed.

The wife looks and says, “What in god’s name was that?”

The old man replied, “Half-time, Switch sides!”

His first friend says: “I think my wife is having an affair with the electrician. The other day I came home and found wire cutters under our bed and they weren’t mine.”

His second friend says: “I think my wife is having an affair with the plumber the other day I found a wrench under the bed and it wasn’t mine.”

Paddy says: “I think my wife is having an affair with a horse.” Both his friends look at him with utter disbelief.

“No, I’m serious. The other day I came home and found a jockey under our bed.”

Way up in heaven, Saint Peter sees all this and asks God, ”Are you really going to let him get away with this?”

”No, I guess not,” says God.

The priest drives about five to six hours away, so he doesn’t bump into anyone he knows. The golf course is empty when he gets there. So he takes his first swing, drives the ball 495 yards away and gets a hole in one.

Saint Peter watches in disbelief and asks, ” Why did you let him do that?”

To this God says, ”Who’s he going to tell?”

”We’re lost!” One of the hikers complained.

”And you said you were the best guide in the United States.”

”I am,” the guide answered, ” but I think we may have wandered into Canada.”

They dialed the number and then sang “Happy Birthday” to him.

But when they finished their off-key rendition, they discovered that they had dialed the wrong number.

“Don’t let it bother you,” said a strange but amused voice.

“You folks need all the practice you can get.”

From David Letterman - Tuesday, January 17, 1995

Afraid to play in Super Bowl against anyone but the Bills.

Distracted by delicious smell of barbecue coming from John Madden’s announce booth.

Trying to make one of Marv Albert’s blooper reels.

Our friends on New York Jets convinced us: “Winning’s no big deal.”

Worried sick about Letterman botching the Academy Awards.

Those big guys on other team kept trying to knock us down.

Who needs all the pressure of a Super Bowl? Not us, Lonnie!

What a time to notice, them cheerleader outfits is skimpy!

Tired of going to Disneyland.

“OK,” says Ivan.

After a while, Ivan says, “I think this is a lot better because his legs fold up and don’t get caught in the brush, but we seem to be getting farther from the car.”

But how do you know when you are going to land? he was asked. I have a very keen sense of smell and I can smell the trees and grass when I am 300 feet from the ground he answered.

But how do you know when to lift your legs for the final arrival on the ground? he was again asked. He quickly answered Oh, the dog’s leash goes slack.

The first guy responds, “Well, I guess it was the thing to do - after all, I was married to her for 40 years.”

2. Give a dissertation on the ancient Babylonian Empire with particular reference to architecture, literature, law and social conditions. OR Give the first name of PIERRE Trudeau.

3. Would you ask William Shakespeare to: (a) build a bridge (b) sail the ocean (c) lead an army (d) WRITE A PLAY

4. What religion is the Pope? (Check only one) (a) Jewish (b) CATHOLIC (c) Hindu (d) Swedish (e) Agnostic

5. Metric conversion. How many feet in 0.0 meters?

6. What time is it when the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 1?

7. How many commandments was Moses given? (Approximate)

8. What are people in America’s far north called? (a) Westerners (b) Southerners (C) NORTHERNERS

9. Spell — CAT, DOG, PIG

10. Six kings of England have been called George, the last one being George the Sixth. Name the previous five.

EXTRA CREDIT: Using your fingers, count from 1-5.

Indeed, the ball hit one of the men, and he immediately clasped his hands together at his crotch, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in evident agony.

The woman rushed down to the man and immediately began to apologize. She said, “Please allow me to help. I’m a physical therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you’d allow.”

“Ummph, oooh, nnooo, I’ll be all right…I’ll be fine in a few minutes,” he replied breathlessly as he remained in the fetal position still clasping his hands together at his crotch.

But she persisted, and he finally allowed her to help him. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, she loosened his pants, and she put her hands inside. She began to massage him.

She then asked him, “How does that feel?”

To which he replied, “It feels great, but my hand still hurts like hell.”

This confused the diver, so he took out a waterproof chalkboard, and wrote, “How the heck are you able to stay under this deep without equipment?”

The guy took the board and chalk, erased what the diver had written, and wrote, “I’m drowning, you moron!”

The steps retreated automatically, the doors closed, and the airplane taxied toward the runway.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman,” a voice intoned as the airplane lifted off. “Welcome to the debut of the world’s first fully computerised airliner. Everything on this aircraft is run
electronically. Just sit back and relax. Nothing can go wrong……..nothing can go wrong……nothing can go wrong……”

“Never,” the teacher replied firmly. “I had to climb in through
the window.”

11. The so-called “help” file is really just a collection of lame “Chicken Soup for the Soul” anecdotes.

10. Refuses to install new programs until you’ve achieved “clear” status.

9. You hit “delete” and the guy in the next cubicle is instantly transported to Albuquerque.

8. In the middle of your fastest game of Minefield yet, the Stephen Hawking office assistant pops up and says, “It looks like you’re trying to arrive at a Unified Field Theory. Can I help you?”

7. Incorrect installation of printer drivers launches a nuclear strike against France.

6. Dreaded “Blue Screen of Death” replaced by less fearsome “Hamster Dance Screen of Death.”

5. Too easy to win new “Whack-a-Reno” game.

4. Default search options include “Body Cavity Search.”

3. Replaces hilarious, intellectual, pithy Top5 list items with crude junior high school humor.

2. Any time you empty the Recycle Bin, NASA loses another Mars Lander.

1. Changes “.gov” domain to “.bite-me” domain every time.

After the test, the manager says, “You will be employed at minimum wage, $5.15 an hour. Let me have your e-mail address, so that I can send you a form to complete and tell you where to report for work on your first day.

Taken aback, the man protests that he has neither a computer nor an e-mail address. To this the MS manager replies, “Well, then, that means that you virtually don’t exist and can therefore hardly expect to be employed.

Stunned, the man leaves. Not knowing where to turn and having only $10 in his wallet, he decides to buy a 25 lb flat of tomatoes at the supermarket. Within less than 2 hours, he sells all the tomatoes individually at 100% profit. Repeating the process several times more that day, he ends up with almost $100 before going to sleep that night.

And thus it dawns on him that he could quite easily make a living selling tomatoes. Getting up early every day and going to bed late, he multiplies his profits quickly.

After a short time he acquires a cart to transport several dozen boxes of tomatoes, only to have to trade it in again so that he can buy a pickuptruck to support his expanding business. By the end of the second year, he is the owner of a fleet of pickup trucks and manages a staff of a hundred former unemployed people, all selling tomatoes.

Planning for the future of his wife and children, he decides to buy some life insurance. Consulting with an insurance adviser, he picks an insurance plan to fit his new circumstances. At the end of the telephone conversation, the adviser asks him for his e-mail address in order to send the final documents electronically.

When the man replies that he has no e-mail, the adviser is stunned, “What, you don’t have e-mail? How on earth have you managed to amass such wealth without the Internet, e-mail and e-commerce? Just imagine where you would be now, if you had been connected to the internet from the very start!”

Doorbell rings, I’m not list’nin’,
From my mouth, drool is glist’nin’,
I’m happy — although
My boss let me go –
Happily addicted to the Web.

All night long, I sit clicking,
Unaware time is ticking,
There’s beard on my cheek,
Same clothes for a week,
Happily addicted to the Web.

Friends come by; they shake me, Saying, “Yo, man!
Don’t you know tonight’s the senior prom?”
With a listless shrug, I mutter, “No, man;
I just discovered letterman-dot-com!”

I don’t phone, don’t send faxes,
Don’t go out, don’t pay taxes,
Who cares if someday
They drag me away?
I’m happily addicted to the Web!

The priest said that he would like to face up so that he will be looking toward heaven when he dies. So, they raise the blade of the guillotine, release it and it comes speeding down and suddenly stops just inches from his neck.

The authorities take this as divine intervention and release the priest.

Next the drunkard comes to the guillotine. He also decides to die face up hoping that he will be as fortunate as the priest. They raise the blade of the guillotine, release it and it comes speeding down and suddenly stops just inches from his neck.

So, the authorities release the drunkard as well.

Next is the engineer. He also decides to die facing up. They slowly raise the blade of the guillotine when suddenly the engineer shouts, “WAIT!!!… I think the problem is right there where the cable is binding!!!”

And, lo, it came to pass that the trader by the name of Abraham.Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot. And Dot Com was a comely woman, broad of shoulder and long of leg. Indeed, she had been called Amazon Dot Com. And she said unto Abraham, her husband, “Why doth thou travel far from town to town with thy goods, when thou can trade without ever leaving thy tent?”

And Abraham did look at her as though she were several saddle bags short of a camel load, but simply said, “How, dear?”

And Dot replied, “I will place drums in all the towns and drums in between to send messages saying what you have for sale and they will reply telling you which hath the best price. And the sale can be made on the drums and delivery by Uriah’s Pony Stable (UPS).”

Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. And Dot said, “There will be a lot of banging in the land.”

And Abraham replied, “It is my most fervent wish that this be so.” And the drums rang out and were an immediate success. Abraham sold all the goods he had, at the top price, without ever moving from his tent.

But his success did arouse envy. A man named Maccabia did secret himself inside Abraham’s drum and was accused of insider trading.

And the young did take to Dot Com’s trading as doth the greedy horsefly to camel dung. They were called Nomadic Ecclesiastical Rich Dominican Siderites, or NERDS for short.

And, lo, the land was so feverish with joy at the new riches and the deafening sound of drums, that no one noticed that the real riches were going to the drum maker, one Brother William of Gates, who bought up every drum company in the land. And indeed did insist on making drums that would only work if you bought Brother William’s drumsticks.

And Dot did say, “Oh, Abraham, what we have started is being taken over by others.”

And as Abraham looked out over the Bay of Ezekiel, or as it came to be known, “eBay, ” he said, “We need a name of a service that reflects what we are.” And Dot replied, “Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner Operators.”

The pilot saw a tall building, flew toward it, circled, drew a handwritten sign, and held it in the helicopter’s window. The pilot’s sign said, “WHERE AM I?” in large letters.

People in the tall building quickly responded to the aircraft, drew a large sign, and held it in a building window. Their sign said, “YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER OVER SEATTLE.”

The pilot smiled, waved, looked at his map, determined the course to steer to SEATAC airport, and landed safely.

After they were on the ground, the co-pilot asked the pilot how the “YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER” sign helped determine their position.

The pilot responded, “I knew that had to be the MICROSOFT building because, similar to their help-lines, they gave me a technically correct but completely useless answer.”

Unfortunately, an error resulted in all 2000 letters being addressed “Dear Rich Bastard.” The luckless programmer was subsequently fired.

The computer, in a home office on the second floor of the townhouse, had four bullet holes in the hard drive and one in the monitor.

One bullet struck a filing cabinet, while another made it through a wall and into a neighboring unit. No one was hurt.

Police evacuated the complex, contacted the 43-year old man by telephone and got him to come out. He was taken to a hospital for a mental evaluation.

A CD Player
While shopping for my first CD player, I was able to decipher most of the technicalese on the promotional signs. One designation had me puzzled, though, so I called over a salesperson and asked, “What does ‘hybrid pulse D/A converter’ mean?” “That means”, he said, “that this machine will read the digital information that is encoded on CDs and convert it into an audio signal - that is, into music.” “In other words this CD player plays CDs.” “Exactly.”

An Airliner
At a recent software engineering management course in the US, the participants were given an awkward question to answer. “If you had just boarded an airliner and discovered that your team of programmers had been responsible for the flight control software how many of you would disembark immediately?”

Among the ensuing forest of raised hands, only one man sat motionless. When asked what he would do, he replied that he would be quite content to stay onboard.

With his team’s software, he said, the plane was unlikely to even taxi as far as the runway, let alone take off.

An artist, a lawyer, and a computer scientist
An artist, a lawyer, and a computer scientist are discussing the merits of a mistress. The artist tells of the passion, the thrill which comes with the risk of being discovered. The lawyer warns of the difficulties. It can lead to guilt, divorce, bankruptcy. Not worth it. Too many problems. The computer scientist says “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My wife thinks I’m with my mistress. My mistress thinks I’m home with my wife, and I can spend all night on the computer!”

Apple Computers
I heard this story on the news sometime ago.

Apple had a new computer under development. Their project name for it was “Carl Sagan” (I don’t know why).

When the real Carl Sagan learned about this, he was upset. He demanded that Apple stop using his name, even for their private, internal projects.

Apple agreed. They changed the name of the project to “Butthead Astronomer”.

I am sending you this letter via this BBS communications thing, so that you will be sure to read it. Please forgive the deception, but I thought you should know what has been going on at home since your computer entered our lives TWO YEARS AGO. The children are doing well. Tommy is seven now and is a bright, handsome boy. He has developed quite an interest in the arts. He drew a family portrait for a school project, all the figures were good, and the back of your head is very realistic. You should be very proud of him.

Little Jennifer turned three in September. She looks a lot like you did at that age. She is an attractive child and quite smart. She still remembers that you spent the whole afternoon with us on her birthday. What a grand day for Jenny, despite the fact that it was stormy and the electricity was out.

I am doing well. I went blonde about a year ago, and discovered that it really is more fun! George, I mean, Mr. Wilson the department head, has uh, taken an interest in my career and has become a good friend to us all.

I discovered that the household chores are much easier since I realized that you didn’t mind being vacuumed but that feather dusting made you sneeze. The house is in good shape. I had the living room painted last spring; I’m sure you noticed it. I made sure that the painters cut holes in the drop sheet so you wouldn’t be disturbed.

Well, my dear, I must be going. Uncle George, uh, Mr. Wilson, I mean, is taking us all on a ski trip and there is packing to do. I have hired a housekeeper to take care of things while we are away, she’ll keep things in order, fill your coffee cup and bring your meals to your desk, just the way you like it. I hope you and the computer will have a lovely time while we are gone. Tommy, Jenny and I will think of you often. Try to remember us while your disks are booting.

Love,

Your Wife

Was this some occult illusion?
Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed my options.
These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly, I must now adopt one -
Choose : “Abort, Retry, Ignore”.

With my fingers pale and trembling,
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee
Finally I pressed a key –
But on the screen what did I see?
Again: “Abort, Retry, Ignore”.

I tried to catch the chips off-guard –
I pressed again, but twice as hard.
Luck was just not in the cards,
I saw what I had seen before.
Now I typed in desperation,
Trying random combinations.
Still there came the incantation -
Choose: “Abort, Retry, Ignore”.

There I sat, distraught, exhausted,
by my own machine accosted;
Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw an awful sight,
A bold and blinding flash of light,
A lightning bolt that cut the night and shook me to my very core.
The PC screen collapsed and died,
“Oh no — my database”, I cried.
I thought I heard a voice reply,
“You’ll see your data — Nevermore!”

To this day I do not know
The place to which lost data goes
Perhaps it goes to Heaven where the angels have it stored.
But as for productivity - well,
I fear that it goes straight to Hell.
And that’s the tale I have to tell -
Your choice: Abort, Retry, Ignore.

Mac Beer: At first, came only a 16-oz. can, but now comes in a 32-oz. can. Considered by many to be a “light” beer. All the cans look identical. When you take one from the fridge, it opens itself. The ingredients list is not on the can. If you call to ask about the ingredients, you are told that “you don’t need to know.” A notice on the side reminds you to drag your empties to the trashcan.

Windows 3.1 Beer: The world’s most popular. Comes in a 16-oz. can that looks a lot like Mac Beer’s. Requires that you already own a DOS Beer. Claims that it allows you to drink several DOS Beers simultaneously, but in reality you can only drink a few of them, very slowly, especially slowly if you are drinking the Windows Beer at the same time. Sometimes, for apparently no reason, a can of Windows Beer will explode when you open it.

OS/2 Beer: Comes in a 32-oz can. Does allow you to drink several DOS Beers simultaneously. Allows you to drink Windows 3.1 Beer simultaneously too, but somewhat slower. Advertises that its cans won’t explode when you open them, even if you shake them up. You never really see anyone drinking OS/2 Beer, but the manufacturer (International Beer Manufacturing) claims that 9 million six-packs have been sold.

Windows 95 Beer: You can’t buy it yet, but a lot of people have taste-tested it and claim it’s wonderful. The can looks a lot like Mac Beer’s can, but tastes more like Windows 3.1 Beer. It comes in 32-oz. cans, but when you look inside, the cans only have 16 oz. of beer in them. Most people will probably keep drinking Windows 3.1 Beer until their friends try Windows 95 Beer and say they like it. The ingredients list, when you look at the small print, has some of the same ingredients that come in DOS beer, even though the manufacturer claims that this is an entirely new brew.

Windows NT Beer: Comes in 32-oz. cans, but you can only buy it by the truckload. This causes most people to have to go out and buy bigger refrigerators. The can looks just like Windows 3.1 Beer’s, but the company promises to change the can to look just like Windows 95 Beer’s - after Windows 95 beer starts shipping. Touted as an “industrial strength” beer, and suggested only for use in bars.

Unix Beer: Comes in several different brands, in cans ranging from 8 oz. to 64 oz. Drinkers of Unix Beer display fierce brand loyalty, even though they claim that all the different brands taste almost identical. Sometimes the pop-tops break off when you try to open them, so you have to have your own can opener around for those occasions, in which case you either need a complete set of instructions or a friend who has been drinking Unix Beer for several years.

AmigaDOS Beer: The company has gone out of business, but their recipe has been picked up by some weird German company, so now this beer will be an import. This beer never really sold very well because the original manufacturer didn’t understand marketing. Like Unix Beer, AmigaDOS Beer fans are an extremely loyal and loud group. It originally came in a 16-oz. can, but now comes in 32-oz. cans too. When this can was originally introduced, it appeared flashy and colorful, but the design hasn’t changed much over the years, so it appears dated now. Critics of this beer claim that it is only meant for watching TV anyway.

VMS Beer: Requires minimal user interaction, except for popping the top and sipping. However cans have been known on occasion to explode, or contain extremely un-beer-like contents. Best drunk in high pressure development environments. When you call the manufacturer for the list of ingredients, you’re told that is proprietary and referred to an unknown listing in the manuals published by the FDA. Rumors are that this was once listed in the Physicians’ Desk Reference as a tranquilizer, but no one can claim to have actually seen it.

“The one to the left costs $500,” says the storeowner.

“Why so much?” asks the customer.

“Because it can program in C,” answers the storeowner.

The customer inquires about the next monkey and is told that “That one costs $1500, because it knows Visual C++ and Object-Relational technology.”

The startled man then asks about the third monkey.

“That one costs $3000,” answers the storeowner.

“$3000!” exclaims the man. “What can that one do?”

To which the owner replies, “To be honest, I’ve never seen it do a single thing, but it calls itself a Consultant.”

Bill: “There are a few issues we need to discuss.”

Contractor: “Ah, you have our basic support option. Calls are free for the first 90 days and $75 a call thereafter. Okay?”

Bill: “Uh, yeah… the first issue is the living room. We think its a little smaller than we anticipated.”

Contractor: “Yeah. Some compromises were made to have it out by the release date.”

Bill: “We won’t be able to fit all our furniture in there.”

Contractor: “Well, you have two options. You can purchase a new, larger living room; or you can use a Stacker.”

Bill: “Stacker?”

Contractor: “Yeah, it allows you to fit twice as much furniture into the room. By stacking it, of course, you put the entertainment center on the couch… the chairs on the table… etc. You leave an empty spot, so when you want to use some furniture you can unstack what you need and then put it back when you’re done.”

Bill: “Uh… I dunno… issue two. The second issue is the light fixtures. The bulbs we brought with us from our old home won’t fit. The threads run the wrong way.”

Contractor: “Oh! That’s easy. Those bulbs aren’t plug and play. You’ll have to upgrade to the new bulbs.”

Bill: “And the electrical outlets? The holes are round, not rectangular. How do I fix that?”

Contractor: “Just uninstall and reinstall the electrical system.”

Bill: “You’re kidding!?”

Contractor: “Nope. Its the only way.”

Bill: ” Well… I have one last problem. Sometimes, when I have guests over, someone will flush the toilet and it won’t stop. The water pressure drops so low that the showers don’t work.”

Contractor: “That’s a resource leakage problem. One fixture is failing to terminate and is hogging the resources preventing access from other fixtures.”

Bill: “And how do I fix that?”

Contractor: “Well, after each flush, you all need to exit the house, turn off the water at the street, turn it back on, reenter the house and then you can get back to work.”

Bill: “That’s the last straw. What kind of product are you selling me?”

Contractor: “Hey, if you don’t like it nobody made you buy it.”

Bill: “And when will this be fixed?”

Contractor: “Oh, in your next house — which will be ready to release sometime near the end of next year. Actually it was due out this year, but we’ve had some delays…”

Among the ensuing forest of raised hands, only one man sat motionless. When asked what he would do, he replied that he would be quite content to stay onboard.

With his team’s software, he said, the plane was unlikely to even taxi as far as the runway, let alone take off.

Bill Clinton went on TV and said “I have good news and bad news. The good news is that God exists. The bad news is that the world will end in two weeks.”

Boris Yeltsin called his advisors together and said “I have bad news and really bad news. The bad news is that God exists. The really bad news is that the world will end in two weeks.”

Bill Gates called his co-workers together and said “I have good news and really good news. The good news is that God thinks I am one of the three most powerful people in the world. The really good news is that we don’t have to fix the bugs in Windows 95.”

11. Thou shalt *** EARN *** REDEMPTION *** FAST!!!! ***

10. Thou shalt not make for yourself a graven image of that which is copyrighted.

9. Thou shalt not pop up any unwanted windows before me, for I shall smite them immediately with a hasty click and read them not.

8. Thou shalt use no browser other than Internet Explorer, for thy Gates is a jealous Gates.

7. Thou shalt not forward chain letters. Instead, send these commandments to ten friends, and help save the life of a small child in Bogota!

6. Thou shalt not act like a hot 18-year chick in a chat room when thou art a pudgy, pimply-faced Trekkie.

5. Spam not, lest ye be spammed tenfold.

4. Thou shalt not spill your kinky guts and then click “Reply to all.”

3. Thou shall not call thyself “Richard P. Smith” online when “Chesty LaRue” sounds so much better.

2. Remember thou the Neimann-Marcus cookie recipe and keep it holy.

1. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife - and thou shalt rejoice in the loophole that Tommy Lee is technically not thy neighbor.

A highway hundreds of lanes wide. Most with pitfalls for potholes. Privately operated bridges and overpasses. No highway patrol. A couple of rent-a-cops on bicycles with broken whistles. 500 member vigilante posses with nuclear weapons. A minimum of 237 on ramps at every intersection.

No signs. Wanna get to Ensenada? Holler out the window at a passing truck to ask directions. Ad hoc traffic laws. Some lanes would vote to make use by a single-occupant- vehicle a capital offense on Monday through Friday between 7:00 and 9:00. Other lanes would just shoot you without a trial for talking on a car phone.

AOL would be a giant diesel-smoking bus with hundreds of ebola victims on board throwing dead wombats and rotten cabbage at the other cars, most of which have been assembled at home from kits. Some are built around 2.5 horsepower lawnmower engines with a top speed of nine miles an hour. Others burn nitrogylcerin and idle at 120.

No license plates. World War II bomber nose art instead. Terrifying paintings of huge teeth or vampire eagles. Bumper mounted machine guns. Flip somebody the finger on this highway and get a white phosphorus grenade up your tailpipe. Flatbed trucks cruise around with anti-aircraft missile batteries to shoot down the traffic helicopter. Little kids on tricycles with squirtguns filled with hydrochloric acid switch lanes without warning.

No offramps. None.

usual disclaimer
I didn’t write that. They’re a bit harsh on AOL. I added the hypertext links corresponding to the particular operating systems, and I stand by my choices.

C++:
You accidentally create a dozen instances of yourself and shoot them all in the foot. Providing emergency medical assistance is impossible since you can’t tell which are bitwise copies and which are just pointing at others and saying, “That’s me, over there.”

FORTRAN:
You shoot yourself in each toe, iteratively, until you run out of toes, than you read in the next foot and repeat. If you run out of bullets, you continue anyway because you have no exception-handling ability.

COBOL:
Using a COLT 45 HANDGUN, AIM gun at LEG.FOOT, THEN place ARM.HAND.FINGER. on HANDGUN.TRIGGER and SQUEEZE. THEN return HANDGUN to HOLSTER. CHECK whether shoelace needs to be retied.

LISP:
You shoot yourself in the appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot yourself in the appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot yourself in the appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot yourself in the appendage which holds the gun with which you shoot yourself in the appendage which holds ….

BASIC:
Shoot yourself in the foot with a water pistol. On big systems, continue until entire lower body is waterlogged.

FORTH:
Foot in yourself shoot.

Pascal:
The compiler won’t let you shoot yourself in the foot.

SNOBOL:
If you succeed, shoot yourself in the left foot. If you fail, shoot yourself in the right foot.

Concurrent Euclid:
You shoot yourself in somebody else’s foot.

HyperTalk:
Put the first bullet of the gun into foot left of leg of you. Answer the result.

Motif:
You spend days writing a UIL description of your foot, the trajectory, the bullet, and the intricate scrollwork on the ivory handles of the gun. When you finally get around to pulling the trigger, the gun jams.

Unix:
% ls foot.c foot.h foot.o toe.c toe.o % rm * .o rm: .o: No such file or directory % ls %
Paradox:
Not only can you shoot yourself in the foot, your users can, too.

Revelation:
You’ll be able to shoot yourself in the foot just as soon as you figure out what all these bullets are for.

Visual Basic:
You’ll shoot yourself in the foot, but you’ll have so much fun doing it that you won’t care.

370 JCL:
You send your foot down to MIS with a 4000-page document explaining how you want it to be shot. Three years later, your foot comes back deep-fried.

Assembly:
You try to shoot yourself in the foot only to discover you must first reinvent the gun, the bullet, and your foot.

RPG:
According to the team from MDTN Holland,(dykes,tulips, mills, the lot), the following bit is an archetypal bit of bit-twiddling using that dinosaur of IBM-languages, the ever infamous RPG.
C Z-ADD5 BULLET 10 C DO BULLET T C Z-ADD1 FOO,T C ENDDO C XFOOTFOO FOOT C FOOT COMP 5 69 C 69 MOVEL’MESS’ AFOOT 4 C N69 MOVEL’MISS’ AFOOT C SETON LR

Technician: Hello. How can I help you today?

Customer: There’s smoke coming from the power supply on my computer…

Technician: Looks like you need a new power supply…

Customer: No, I don’t! I just need to change the startup files…

Technician: Sir, what you described is a faulty power supply. You need to replace it…

Customer: No way! Someone told me that I just had to change the system startup files to fix the problem! All I need is for you to tell me the right command…

For the next ten minutes, in spite of the technician’s efforts to explain the problem and its solution, the customer adamantly insisted that he was right. So, in frustration, the technician responded…

Technician: I’m sorry. We don’t normally tell our customers this, but there’s an undocumented DOS command that will fix the problem…

Customer: I knew it!

Technician: Just add the line ‘LOAD NOSMOKE.EXE’ at the end of the CONFIG.SYS file and everything should work fine. Let me know how it goes…

About ten minutes later, the technician received a call back from the customer…

Customer: It didn’t work. The power supply is still smoking…

Technician: Well, what version of DOS are you using?

Customer: MS-DOS 6.22…

Technician: Well, that’s your problem. That version of DOS doesn’t include NOSMOKE. You’ll need to contact Microsoft and ask them for a patch. Let me know how it all works out…

When nearly an hour had passed, the phone rang again…

Customer: I need a new power supply…

Technician: How did you come to that conclusion?

Customer: Well, I called Microsoft and told the technician what you said, and he started asking me questions about the make of the power supply…

Technician: What did he tell you?

Customer: He said my power supply isn’t compatible with NOSMOKE…

He enters the bar and sits down. The bartender comes over to him, sniffs him, says he smells kind of nerdy, and asks him what he does for a living. The truck driver says he driv