One night, a small commuter jet was headed from Seattle to Vancouver with just four passengers: Bill Gates, Michael Jordan, the Dalai Lama, and a college student. Suddenly, there was an explosion and the plane filled with smoke. The cockpit door opened, the pilot hurried through the compartment, saying, “bad news. We’re going to crash and there are only four parachutes.” With that, he grabbed a parachute, threw open the door and leaped from the plane. Michael Jordan jumped to his feet. “Gentlemen,” he announced, “I’m the world’s greatest athlete. The world needs great athletes. Therefore, I’m taking one of the parachutes!” With that, he grabbed a parachute and hurtled out the door. Bill Gates rose and said, “Gentlemen, I am the world’s smartest man. The world needs smart men. Therefore, I’m taking one of the parachutes, too!” With that, HE grabbed one and jumped. The Dalai Lama looked at the college student. “My son,” he said, “I have lived a long and satisfying life. I have known the bliss of True Enlightenment. You have your whole life before you. You take a parachute. I will go down with the plane.” The college student just smiled, “Not necessary, man. The world’s smartest man just left wearing my backpack!”
A computer programmer was taking a smoke break when a woman passing by sarcastically commented, “Don’t you know that those things can kill you? They put a warning on every pack!” “Oh, that’s okay,” said the guy, exhaling smoke, “I’m a programmer.” “What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked. He answered, “Programmers ignore warnings; we only care about errors!”
This is the true story of how the Internet was invented and how it began.
In ancient Israel , it came to pass that a trader called Abraham of Com did take unto himself a young wife by the name of Dot. And Dot of 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 dost 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 made by Uriah’s Pony Stable (UPS).’ Abraham thought long and decided he would let Dot have her way with the drums. 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 this success did arouse envy. A man named Maccabia did secrete himself inside Abraham’s drum and was accused of insider trading. And the young man did take to Dot Com’s trading as doth the greedy horsefly take 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 work only with Brother Gates’ drumheads and 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 that reflects what we are.’ And Dot replied, ‘Young Ambitious Hebrew Owner Operators.’ ‘YAHOO!’ Said Abraham.
And that is how it all began.
Al Gore had absolutely nothing to do with it.
I was on my way to the post office to pick up my case of free M&M’s, sent to me because I forwarded an e-mail to five other people celebrating the fact that the year 2000 was “MM” in Roman numerals, when I ran into a friend whose neighbor, a young man, was home recovering from having been served a rat in his bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken (which is not that surprising as everyone knows there’s no actual chicken in Kentucky Fried Chicken; that’s why the government made them change their name to KFC). Anyway, my friend woke up one morning and found himself in his bathtub, which was full of ice and he was sore all over. When he got out of the tub he realized that his kidney had been stolen. A note on his mirror said “Call 911!” but he was afraid to use his phone because it was connected to his computer and there was a virus on his computer that would destroy his hard drive if he opened an e-mail entitled “Join the crew!” He knew it wasn’t a hoax because he himself was a computer programmer working on software to prevent a global disaster in which all the computers get together and distribute the $250.00 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe under the leadership of Bill Gates. (It must be true because I read all about it last week in a mass e-mail from Bill Gates himself, who also promised me a free Disney World vacation and $5,000 if I would only forward his e-mail to everyone I know.) He tried to call 911 from a pay phone to report his missing kidneys, but the voice on the line asked him to press #90, which gave the bandit full access to the phone line at the unwitting guy’s expense. Then, reaching into the coin-return slot, he got jabbed with an HIV-infected needle around which was wrapped a note that read, “Welcome to the world of AIDS.” Luckily he was only a few blocks from the hospital where that little boy dying of cancer is, you know, the one whose last wish is for everyone in the world to send him an e-mail and the American Cancer Society has agreed to pay him a nickel for every e-mail he receives. (I sent him two e-mails; one of them was a bunch of x’s and o’s in the shape of an angel which I forwarded to lots of people because if you forward it to more than ten people you’ll have really good luck, but if you forward it to less than ten people you will have bad luck for seven years.) On the way to the hospital he noticed a car driving without its lights on. To be helpful, he flashed his lights at him and was promptly shot as part of a gang initiation. In conclusion, be sure to send this email to all your friends and you’ll receive four green M&Ms, but if you don’t, the U.S. government will put a tax on your e-mail, the owner of Proctor and Gamble will report you to his Satanist friends, you will get sick from the Sodium Laureth Sulfate in your shampoo, and your spouse will develop a skin rash from the antiperspirant which clogs the pores under your arms. I know all this is true; I read it on the Internet.
Computer Addicts’ Exercise Plan: Sitting, staring, and typing may no longer be enough to keep you in shape. Here’s a regimen to build those arms, shoulders and back muscles. While sitting at your computer, raise a 5-pound potato sack with each hand, extending your arms until they are straight out from your sides. Try to hold them there for at least 10 seconds. Relax. Drink coffee. Repeat. After a few weeks, move up to 10-pound potato sacks and eventually work your way up to 25-pound potato sacks in each hand for a full minute. Once you can do that with confidence, slip a potato into each sack, but be careful. Don’t overdo it!
A man’s printer started printing more and more faintly, so he called a local repair shop. A friendly young man informed him, “Well, you could bring it in for a cleaning, but we charge $50 for that, so you might be better off just reading the manual and trying the job yourself.” Pleasantly surprised by this candor, the man said, “Thanks, son. Does your boss know that you discourage business?” “Actually, it was my boss’s idea,” said the young employee. “He says that if we let people try to fix things themselves first, we end up making even more money!”
Have you ever been tortured by phone tech support?
Can you find the power switch for your computer?
Would you miss your own wedding if you had an online addiction?
Shouldn’t all computers come equipped with an airbag?