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| Posted by Stephen W. Gradwell on 12-Aug-2005 | Dear God (Christmas)Johnny was, by all accounts, the worst eight year old kid on earth. He stole, lied, beat-up his sister, just about any trouble this kid could get into, he did. Nonetheless, Johnny wanted a bicycle for Christmas.
Johnny goes to his mother and demands, "Mom, for Christmas, I want a bicycle!" To this his mother replies, "Yea, right, ... Santa's not comming to THIS house you little brat, you've stolen from all the neighbors, shoplifted, beat-up kids at school, you'll be lucky if you even get a lump of coal."
Enraged, Johnny storms up to his room. After about an hour, he decides he will appeal his case to God. So he grabs a tablet and starts to write his letter to God.
Dear God, If I get a bicycle for Christmas, I will never steal again... "No, that won't work. God will know I'm lying." So he tears up this letter and starts again.
Dear God, If I get a bicycle for Christmas, I'll wash Mom's dishes for all year... "No, that won't work. God will know I'm lying." So he tears up this letter and starts again.
Evenually, Johnny uses up the entire tablet and has only one sheet left but still no letter to God. Then it hits him. He runs out of the house and down to the church. In the church, he finds the Madona and snatches it, runs home, and hides it under the bed. Then he writes:
Dear God, If you ever want to see your mother again, have Santa Claus deliver a bicycle to my house on Christmas...
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| Posted by Alli E. Suriani on 12-Aug-2005 | Why Black?A woman was getting married. She entered the church wearing a black wedding gown that surprised everyone.
The pastor was a bit annoyed and asked her, "Why are you dressed up in black?"
The woman replied, "Well, that's because I'm not a virgin."
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| Posted by Lisa M. Funkychicken on 12-Aug-2005 | Marry MeHe really loved her but he was just too shy to propose to her. Now he was up in his years and neither of them had ever been married. Of course, they dated about once a week for the past six years but he was so timid he just never got around to suggesting marriage, much less living together.
But one day, he became determined to ask her the question. So he calls her on the phone, "Judith?"
"Yes, this is Judith." "Will you marry me?" "Of course. Who's speaking?"
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| Posted by Wicked Jeff on 12-Aug-2005 | 12 days of Christmas (Santa Cruz style)THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS.... SANTA CRUZ STYLE...
On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival,
my Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship
gave to me:
TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual
drumming,
ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of
members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for
in their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a
note),
TEN melanin deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal
ruling class system leaping,
NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing
milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Americans,
SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,
SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal
products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic
incarceration,
(NOTE after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to
throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and
partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid
further Animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has
been revised.)
FOUR hours of recorded whale songs
THREE deconstructionist poets
TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree
carcasses and...
ONE Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.
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| Posted by REM on 09-Aug-2005 | According to police in Dahlonega,According to police in Dahlonega, Ga., ROTC cadet Nick Berrena, 20, was
stabbed to death in January by fellow cadet Jeffrey Hoffman, 23, who was
trying to prove that a knife could not penetrate the flak vest Berrena was
wearing.
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| Posted by John Doe on 12-Aug-2005 | Grinch Quiz!How to Tell if You're a Grinch
This is a set of essential personality tests to prepare you misfit readers for Christmas and your New Year's resolutions:
1. You reuse last year's Christmas cards and send them out under your own name (5 points). (I had some ex-cousins that actually did this - Buddy's cousins. They sent yours back the next year with your name scratched out and theirs in its place. . .the only new cards they sent were if you had a pet! They also hung their Xmas tree upside down from the ceiling. . .after it was spray painted Black!!)
2. You steal light bulbs from you neighbor's outdoor display to replenish your own supply (5 points, 10 if neighbor's whole light sets or lighted Santa goes out).
3. You have dressed a dog or cat as Santa Claus, elf helper, or reindeer (10 points for each; if you dressed an endangered species, 5 extra points).
4. You put out last year's stale candy canes for children (1 point for each piece of sticky candy). If you put out a chocolate or marzipan Santa also, add 10 points.
5. You enclose a shoddy and inferior gift from Target, Walmart, or K-Mart in a Bloomingdale's or other prestige box to impress your friends (5 points for each infraction).
6. You make collect long distance phone calls to your family on Christmas day (5 points, 10 if from a cell phone), claiming you are stuck in a phone booth.
7. At the office Christmas party, you horde huge stockpiles of goodies for later consumption at home (5 points; 15 points if you use this stuff for your own party).
8. You steal the wreath from a parked car to use on your own (Southern California only, others ignore: 5 points -- nobody but Angelenos are dumb enough to dress a car).
9. After an invitation to a friend's house, you bring a commercially produced fruitcake and try to pass it off as home made (5 points; 15 points if the fruitcake is from last year).
10. Any stealing from the Toys-for-Tots collection bins is a definite no-no (20 points).
Evaluate your score on the "Grinch Scale" from 20 to 100.
20-30: You are just a cheeseball.
30-50: You are an apprentice in Yuletide larceny and are probably wanted by the police for overdue parking tickets.
50-100: Grinch, move over. The Meyer Lansky of Christmas crime has arrived.
Happy Holidays to one and all!
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| Posted by Jenny G. Kuper on 09-Aug-2005 | Long runIn a Tokyo shop:
Our nylons cost more than common, but you'll find they are best in the long run.
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| Posted by Umm...ME on 12-Aug-2005 | A Night Before Christmas Parody (Technical Version)A Night Before Christmas Parody (Technical Version)
'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Musmusculus.
Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums.
My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.
With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen - "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by way of the smoke passage.
He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof.
His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his
submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability.
The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were
engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry.
His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a
common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.
Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey
fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly.
His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly
mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container.
He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund,
multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being.
By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his
head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle.
Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about- face,
placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and
forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage.
He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance,
directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility:
"Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."
HO! HO! HO!
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| Posted by Anu Patel on 12-Aug-2005 | A Networkologist's ChristmasA Networkologist's Christmas
"'Tis the night before Christmas," I thought with a frown.
I was stuck at the office. The network was down.
The routers were hung in the closet. All crashed.
Their tables had holes in their data. All trashed.
Remote distribution, it seems, just for fun,
Had erased DLLs Windows needed to run
On 84 desktops way down in accounting.
I sat stunned at my desk, my blood pressure mounting.
When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter,
I saw that a server had something the matter.
There was smoke coming out of the main hard disk drive.
"No problem," I thought. "I'm set up with RAID 5."
But I found out the system I thought was unstoppable
Had disk drives that turned out completely unswappable!
"No problem," I thought. "I've tape backup to thank."
And then I discovered my backups were blank.
The UPS burped, and its lights all went out.
I started to scream! I started to shout!
But nobody heard as I vented my rage.
My gurus were all on vacation those days.
And nobody's tech support answered the phone.
I was nose deep in trouble, completely alone.
When out at reception, I heard a soft knock.
As the hands just touched midnight on my desktop clock.
"What's your problem?" he asked.
"Never mind, friend, I know.
I checked out your network five hours ago.
I did some proactive analysis, so
I knew that this time bomb was going to blow."
Who was this guy? Who did he think he was?
He was dressed in red coveralls, white beard, black gloves.
His eyes had the twinkle of technical genius.
His smile cut down personal distance between us.
He spread out his tools, and went straight to his work.
"Whoever configured this network's a jerk,"
He said with a :-) as he quickly rebooted,
Uploaded some software, and smoothly rerouted
The LAN to a WAN that he quickly supplied
With bandwidth at least 20 gigabits wide
That went via wireless, I think, LEO,
To tech support elves waiting at the North Pole.
"Now bridging, now routing, now Ethernet hubs!"
He chanted as each piece of hardware he rubbed.
"Cheer up, my good friend! Lose that mindset so tragic!
Technology often looks just like some magic
To people who don't understand what we do.
Now a switch, emulation, now middleware glue!
Look at the protocols, check one or two,
Debug a bit, test a bit, presto! We're through!"
My data was back! Every system checked out!
Tears of joy wet my face as I wandered about.
"How can I thank you? You must be Saint Nick!"
He said, "Really, my friend, it's not such a great trick,
If you don't give up hope, focus on what you're doing,
And read all your issues of NETWORK COMPUTING."
And I heard him exclaim, as his reindeer were coursing,
"Merry Christmas to all! And consider outsourcing!"
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