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Yucks Digest V7 #25 (mixed nuts)
Yucks Digest Sun, 30 Nov 97 Volume 7 : Issue 25
Today's Topics:
Body Shop Letter
Computer Widow (fwd)
Conspiracies redux: Snapple & the KKK?
Contenders for the DUH Awards for 1996...
DJOTD
Excerpt: discussion of car exceeding speed of light
If we don't start marrying cows and chickens, we are doomed.
It's all been going horribly wrong with pianos.
JOTD
Life in Hell
Mixmasta bilong Jesus Christ
Quite simply, Stilton is responsible...
Quote of the day
Tools, Explained
Well, Look who's made a mistake then. Very unusual, I don't think.
What Men Really Mean - A Continuing Series
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Working definitions...
Your 'Have A Nice Day' Laugh (fwd)
The "Yucks" digest is a moderated list of the bizarre, the unusual,
the sometimes risque, the possibly insane, and the (usually) humorous.
It is issued on a semi-regular basis, as the whim and time present
themselves.
Back issues can be obtained via WWW as
<http://www.cs.purdue.edu/homes/spaf/yucks.html>; back issues and
subscriptions can be obtained using a mail server. Send mail to
"yucks-request@cs.purdue.edu" with a "Subject:" line of the single word
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Submissions and problem reports should be sent to spaf@cs.purdue.edu
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Mon, 18 Nov 96 12:22:55 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: Body Shop Letter
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: gosner@ainet.com (george osner)
Forwarded-by: Mike_Perry@DGE.ceo.dg.com
Forwarded-by: Peter.Bennett@uk.Sun.COM:dg-smtp
Extract from a customer complaint letter sent to The Body Shop...
"I recently shampooed my pet rabbit with Body Shop shampoo. Its eyes
bulged out and turned red. If you tested your stuff on animals like
everyone else, this sort of thing wouldn't happen."
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 20 Nov 96 8:19:13 PST
From: Duncan McAlpine <dm2477@lab3.ca.boeing.com>
Subject: Computer Widow (fwd)
To: spaf
Forwarded message:
To my darling husband,
I'm sending you this letter in a bogus software company envelope so you'll be
sure to read it. Please forgive the deception, but I thought you should know
what's been going on since your computer entered our lives two years ago.
The children are doing well. Tommy is 7 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 but yours was excellent!!. The chair
and back of your head are very realistic. You would be proud of him. Little
Jennifer turned 3 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 Jen despite the
fact that it was stormy and the electricity was out.
I am doing well. I went blond about a year ago and was delighted to discover
that it really was more fun. Lars, I mean Mr. Swensen, the department head, has
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 and that the feather duster made you sneeze. The
house is in good shape. I had the living room painted last spring. I'm not
sure if you noticed it. I asked the painters to cut air holes in the drop
cloths so you wouldn't be disturbed.
Well dear, I must be going. Uncle Lars, Mr. Swensen, I mean, is taking us all
on a ski trip and there is much packing to do. I've hired a house-keeper to
take care of things while we are away. She'll keep things in order, fill your
coffee cup and bring your meals to the computer room just the way you like it.
I hope you and the computer have a lovely time while we are gone. Tommy, Jen
and I think of you often. Try to remember us while your disks are booting.
Love, Mary
[Having such an understanding spouse can be such a help. --spaf]
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 5 Sep 96 00:04:04 -0700
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: Conspiracies redux: Snapple & the KKK?
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: "Gregg H. Porter" <74553.104@compuserve.com>
Forwarded-by: "Scott Kralik", INTERNET:skralik@microquill.com
Forwarded-by: tom@wrona.com (Tom Wrona)
Forwarded-by: garyrr@accent.net
> This sounds like the kind of thing that may have been brought up before,
> but this is Canada, eh? It's claimed by several of my acquantances that
> Snapple, the yucky fruit drink, endorses and supports the KKK.
This is complete BS.
The KKK is endorsed by Procter and Gamble, who also supports the satanists,
and who sold Mrs. Field's cookie recipe to Neiman Marcus for $2,000 after
the kiddie tatoos laced with LSD that were supposed to be used for satanic
ritual abuse at that day care center in Beaufort were mistakenly eaten by
the choking doberman who was bitten by the snake that came out of the fur
coat that was worn by the escaped homicidal maniac whose hook prosthesis
was found hanging from the door of the car of the teenagers who high-tailed
it out of a lover's lane when they heard that he had escaped and then went
to the pot party where the kids who were supposed to be babysitting got high
on marijuana and were so stoned they accidentally put the baby in the oven
instead of the turkey that makes you sleepy because it contains tryptophan
because the microwave was ruined by the exploding poodle that the girl with
the beehive hairdo that turned out to contain roaches who had gotten an
automatic "A" at college because her roommate had committed suicide had put
in to dry after it had gotten wet chasing the vanishing hitchhiker who had
tried to warn the girl that her insides were cooked because she had stayed
too long under the sun lamp at the local tanning salon while her dad poured
a load of concrete into a new convertible parked outside of the house
because he thought it belonged to a guy who was having sex with his wife
but was really a prize he had won in a contest at that radio station that
played rock records that contained hidden commands and subliminal messages
planted by the Jews, international bankers, the Trilateral Commission, the
Council on Foreign Relations, the Illuminati, the New World Order,
multinational corporations, right wing militias, Jerry Falwell, the
Christian Coalition, Planned Parenthood, and the spooks at Hanger 18 of Area
51 in Dreamland who performed the autopsies on the aliens who crashed at
Roswell, New Mexico while on a mission to abduct people and conduct weird
sexual and reproductive experiments on them because they knew we use only
ten percent of our brains and that engineers had "proven" that bumblebees
can't fly and that sugar wakes you up even if you're a CIA agent who has
recovered memories about conspiring with organized crime and anti-Castro
extremists to kill JFK with a magic bullet, and then killed dozens of other
people whose odds of all dying within the period in which they did are
infintesimal even if you don't count their near-death experiences in which
an angel guided them to the light before they were called back because it
wasn't time for them to die like Mikey from the Life cereal commercials did
after eating Pop Rocks(R) candy when his friend Alice Cooper who was Eddie
Haskell on Leave it to Beaver woke up after a one night stand in a hotel
only to find that the girl he was with was gone and had written "Welcome to
the world of AIDS" in lipstick on the bathroom mirror which terrified him
because he knew that it is just as easy to get AIDS from heterosexual
intercourse as it is from homosexual sodomy with an IV drug user because
when the US government created AIDS to commit genocide against blacks who
aren't adversely affected by the minimum wage with the aid of Korean grocers
who don't give anything back to the community they knew that Anne Klein had
said on the Donahue show that she didn't want blacks buying her clothes
because when the poison they put in that fried chicken at Church's so The
Rich could keep the poor down because they can't be rich if nobody is poor
there would be a massive coverup like the Philadelphia Experiment or the
carburetor that can allow a car to get 100 mpg in perpetual motion just like
Nikola Tesla had done a hundred years ago using the same principal that Uri
Geller uses to bend spoons and psychic friends use to give you valuable
insights that improve your life for amusement purposes only while smoking
a cigarette that has no more been proven to give you cancer than evolution
has been proven to occur because it's only a theory and there are no
transitional fossils and it violates the second law of thermodynamics unlike
creation science which is not religious and fear of irradiated food which
is rational because we know it's bad just like the assault weapons that are
more dangerous than other semi-automatic weapons because they look scary
and ugly and they're ok to ban because the second amendment wasn't meant to
preserve the rights of individuals against the state like the other nine
amendments in the Bill of Rights but instead is the only amendment designed
to protect the state against individuals because if there is no effective
way to keep guns out of the hands of criminals the next best thing is to
keep them out of the hands of law abiding citizens and make sure only the
state has them because countries where the state doesn't permit its citizens
to own guns are never oppressive and the government doesn't become arrogant
and intractable and corrupt because the government can improve our lives by
suspending the laws of supply and demand to make prices fair and deciding
how many people of each race and sex should be in colleges and jobs which
is good because when control of everyday life is centralized in the state
the people who get to make the decisions are never capricious or highhanded
or make decisions favoring their friends and family and people who pay them
money because if only we can get the right people into positions of control
it will be safe to let them run things because smart people can figure out
how to allocate resources and what fair prices are for goods and services
and labor and who should be allowed to do what much more efficiently and
constructively than just letting millions of people make their own decisions
about what they should eat or drink or smoke or for whom they should work
for under what conditions for how much money on what schedule based on their
own perceptions concerns and plans in accordance with their best interests.
But I digress . . .
[I wish I'd said that! --spfa]
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 18 Nov 96 21:19:22 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: Contenders for the DUH Awards for 1996...
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: Lou Katz <lou@metron.com>
From: the .sig for David Harris <David.Harris@pmail.gen.nz>
On the box of a clockwork toy from Hong Kong:
"Guaranteed to work throughout its useful life."
From: Barry Perlman
A friend of mine told me about a notice he found on his
motorcycle. It read, approximately:
"Do not drink the battery fluid. Our lawyers made
us say that. We also recommend you do not chew on
the tires while the motorcycle is in motion."
From: Ken Fishkin <fishkin@acm.org>
I was microwaving something the other day, and it had this notice on it:
WARNING: hot when heated.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 14 Nov 1996 11:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: DJOTD
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: DHAYNES@sqa.com
So it seems that this reporter goes to Armenia to write articles about
the people and their land. He meets an old man in a secluded village,
and over a cup of the local brew asks him about the memorable events of
his life. After a bit of thought, the old man says, "Well, there was this
time my donkey got lost, so me and my neighbors got some vodka and went
looking for it. We looked and looked, all the time drinking vodka, and
finally found the donkey, and then one by one we screwed the donkey! And,
then, one time my neighbor's wife got lost, so me and the rest of the
village got some vodka and went out looking for her. We looked and
looked, all the time drinking vodka, and finally found her. Then we got
more vodka and all got drunk and screwed her!"
The interviewer *knows* he can't write an article about this no matter if
it's true or not, so he encourages the old man to tell him another story.
He asks him if he had any "dramatic", or especially sad memories that he
could talk about. The old man pauses a little, and a melancholy
expression steals over his features. "Well," he replies, "there was this
one time I got lost..."
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 14 Nov 1996 18:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: Excerpt: discussion of car exceeding speed of light
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: Alan Langerman <alan@synonym.orca.com>
From: Dan Weinreb <dlw@odi.com>
Subject: The Top 20 Cool Things About a Car that Goes Faster
than the Speed of Light
Date: Wed, 13 Nov 1996 21:31:30 -0400
From: jayar@ma.ultranet.com (John Robinson)
Nonsense. As soon as your exceed C, time runs backward,
Oh, I see. That explains why C++ has set the industry back so many years.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 14 Nov 1996 15:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: If we don't start marrying cows and chickens, we are doomed.
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: "Keith's Mostly Clean Humor & Weird List" <KSullivan@worldnet.att.net>
COWS AND CHICKENS EVOLVE BUT NOT PEOPLE
-- By Bill Hall, Lewiston, Idaho, Tribune, December 11, 1989
People dumb enough to believe there is no such thing as evolution are proof
that there is no such thing as evolution.
Evolution no longer works with people. There was once a time when people
dumb enough to doubt evolution didn't survive to have children.
Obviously they do survive now. Indeed, there are more anti-evolutionists
than ever, proving that evolution no longer works with people.
However, it still works on chickens and cows. There was once a time when
evolution was the driving force behind the improvement in people and
chickens and cows and everything else. The best and the brightest survived
life's tests. The worst and the dumbest couldn't hack it and were gradually
disappearing.
But that was back before life became a hothouse, back before humankind had
conquered saber-toothed tigers and the weather and disease and food
poisoning and falling rocks.
Things are different now. Humans have taken charge of the planet. The
unfit survive along with the fit.
But only among people. Chickens and cows are improving at the same time we
are losing ground.
Humans have taken charge of their own fate and that of the other animals in
directly opposite ways. Humans have interfered with natural forces on their
own behalf to preserve anti-evolutionists and other weak components that
Nature was previously weeding out.
On the other hand, humans have interfered with natural forces on behalf of
cows and chickens to eliminate all but the very best. Chickens and cows
with a tendency to be skinny and tasteless are denied the opportunity to
marry and have children.
But chickens and cows with a tendency to to be plump and delicious are
pressed into forced marriages and compelled to have children.
As a consequence of this selective breeding, chickens and cows, as a race,
are better today than ever.
Not so people. It is obvious to even the most casual observer that there is
little selective breeding among people, especially in newspaper offices and
law schools.
I know dozens of smart people who are married to dumb people. We all do.
And of course, their children are only about half smart. Those couples are
creating an entire race of people who will no longer believe in evolution.
I recently saw another sign of the decline and fall of our kind of animal.
It was one of those studies proving the obvious that tanning is detrimental
to your health. Not only does it cause skin cancer and premature wrinkles
and chafing but it also reduces the effectiveness of the human immune system
which may explain why people who don't wear enough clothes get the sniffles.
Our prehistoric ancestors didn't wear many clothes either but they were
smart enough to stay in the trees on hot summer days.
And what do we do?
Some of us put on bikinis and go out in the yard and try to find a place
that the trees aren't shading.
Even dumber, we don't just stand out in the sun, or run around out in the
sun killing cows and chickens the way our ancestors used to. We lie down in
the sun, getting the full blast of the rays along the entire length of our
bodies. We don't just toast our heads and our shoulders. We toast our
bellies and our buns. We toast everything. I know people with tan armpits.
That's not very bright. Our prehistoric ancestors stayed in the trees where
we belong.
But they made one mistake. They fed and intermarried with the few humans
back then who were dumb enough to go out in the noonday sun and lie down
naked. They kept those imbeciles and their stupid genes alive. And now
they are more and more numerous. They have even created artificial inside
suns where they can lie down and burn their bodies.
Thus we have become an increasingly stupid race of creatures slowly burning
to death. We are so stupid that more and more of us can't even grasp a
simple concept like evolution.
And more and more, we are right about that.
If we don't start marrying cows and chickens, we are doomed.
[Ahem. We have a problem here with some of the frat boys dating the farm
animals. I'm not sure we want to encourage marriage. --spaf]
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 18 Nov 1996 07:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: It's all been going horribly wrong with pianos.
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: jim@hosaka.SmallWorks.COM (Jim Thompson)
>From the Big Issue:
It's all been going horribly wrong with pianos. In Leicester, a man
driven mad by his neighbour's off-key playing attacked the offending
instrument with a sledge hammer. "Curiously, the D-flat's been perfect
ever since," said the owner philosophically. Not so Rolf Mickleberg's
D-Flat, which was badly affected by a pair of naked buttocks. Trouble
started when Mr Mickleberg, of Feldback, Austria, returned home early
while wife Ilya was making love to plumber Gunter Goch. A naked Mr. Goch
took refuge inside the family's grand piano whilst Mrs Mickleberg
endeavoured to divert her spouse's attention. She singularly failed and
Mr. Mickleberg remained by the piano until the early evening, when 20
friends arrived to hear a recital of Chopin's Fantasie-Impromptu. "I
started playing," he recalled, "and someone squealed "Ouch!" so I lifted
the lid and there he was." Mr Goch's claims that he was the victim of an
alien abduction were not believed, and the Micklebergs are now getting
divorced. "He's lucky it wasn't Beethoven's Fifth," opined Mr Mickleberg,
"or I might have really done some damage."
[Too bad it wasn't Schubert -- it was an unfinished piece, after all...
--spaf]
------------------------------
Date: Wed, 20 Nov 1996 12:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: JOTD
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: glen mccready <glen@qnx.com>
Forwarded-by: "BEAIRSTO Andrew (MSMail)" <ABeairsto@shl.com>
A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the
front door. "Hurry!" she said, "stand in the corner." She quickly rubbed
baby oil all over him and then she dusted him with talcum powder. "Don't
move until I tell you to," she whispered. "Just pretend you're a statue."
"What's this, honey?" the husband inquired as he entered the room.
"Oh, its just a statue," she replied nonchalantly. "The Smiths bought
one for their bedroom. I liked it so much, I got one for us too."
No more was said about the statue, not even later that night when they
went to sleep. Around two in the morning the husband got out of bed, went
to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a sandwich and a beer.
"Here," he said to the statue, "eat something. I stood like an idiot at the
Smiths for three days and nobody offered me so as much as a glass of water!"
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 21 Nov 96 14:25:31 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: Life in Hell
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: Bob Stein
Forwarded-by: "Truscello, Roberta" <RT@sswhb.com> (by way of Bob Stein)
Forwarded-by: a friend in Massachusetts
A guy dies and wakes up to find he is in hell. He's really depressed as he
stands in the processing line, waiting to talk to an admittance counselor.
He thinks to himself, "I know I lead a wild life, but I wasn't that bad.
I never thought it would come to this." Looking up, he sees that it is his
turn to be processed into hell. With fear and a heavy heart, he walks up
to the counselor.
Counselor: What's the problem; you look depressed.
Guy: Well, what do you think? I'm in hell.
Counselor: Hell's not so bad, we actually have a lot of fun. Do you like
to drink?
Guy: Sure, I love to drink.
Counselor: Well then, you are going to love Mondays. On Mondays, we drink
up a storm. You can have whiskey, rum, tequila, beer, whatever you
want and as much a you want. We party all night long. You'll love
Mondays. Do you smoke?
Guy: Yes, as a matter of fact I do.
Counselor: You are going to love Tuesdays. Tuesday is smoke day. You get
to smoke the finest cigars and best cigarettes available anywhere.
And you smoke to your heart's desire without worrying about cancer,
because you are already dead! Is that great or what? You are going
to love Tuesdays. Do you do drugs?
Guy: Well, in my younger days, I experimented a little.
Counselor: You are going to love Wednesdays. That's drug day. You can
experiment with any drug you want and you don't have to worry about
overdoses or getting hooked because you are already dead. You are
going to love Wednesdays. Do you gamble?
Guy: Yes, I love to gamble.
Counselor: You are going to love Thursdays because we gamble all day and
night -- black jack, craps, poker, slots, horse races, everything!
You are going to love Thursdays. Are you gay?
Guy: Well, no, I'm not.
Counselor: Oooh [grimaces], you're gonna hate Fridays...
------------------------------
Date: Fri, 15 Nov 1996 09:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: Mixmasta bilong Jesus Christ
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: "Keith's Mostly Clean Humor & Weird List" <KSullivan@worldnet.att.net>
Doug Buckser <douglas.buckser@acslink.aone.net.au> wrote:
> Did I tell you my favourite recent highlight of recent Australian
> media moment? Anne Fulwood, a Channel 7 newsreader, was interviewed
> by an American news program last month and said that Australia has
> "seven or eight states."
I make it seven ...
1. paralysis (weekend bender)
2. torpor (lawn needs mowing / roof leaks)
3. lethargy (9-5 weekdays)
4. wide alert (whiff of barbie smoke)
5. full arousal (tv lotto draw)
6. exuberance (footie team almost scores)
7. blind fury (beer's run out)
Wonder what she thinks the eighth state is??
Blissful Ignorance
------------------------------
Date: Tue, 19 Nov 1996 10:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: Quite simply, Stilton is responsible...
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
From: "Keith's Mostly Clean Humor & Weird List" <KSullivan@worldnet.att.net>
The Common Cheddar
Cheddar, one of the most common cheeses on the market, is firm and creamy.
Common side effects are sweaty eyes and nasal drippings. However, it is
cheap.
Edam
Edam is basically a big babybel (the little cheese that likes to get out).
Its most famous characteristic is its bright red wax skin which must be
peeled prior to consumption. It is quite common for Edam to be found
hanging around in grotty pubs trying to small talk various items of
furniture, it thus establishing itself as the true social cheese, the cheese
with attitude, the cheese that knows what it wants, and damn well gets it.
Taste-wise, the Edam is mild, creamy, soft with a not particularly pungent
odour. Edam is not made in Iceland.
Stilton
Quite simply, Stilton is responsible for the fundamental deconstruction of
our society. Without Stilton we would all be extremely wealthy with large
goat farms somewhere in the outback's, riding stallions to impress the local
skirt (or trouser), carefree and completely without the typical neuroses of
modern day life. Philosophers throughout the years have pondered the reason
for this, coming up with various bizarre theories concerning its putrid
stench and its strange attraction to green mold, but surely we must look to
our own cheese related failure in order to shed some light on the situation.
Wensleydale
This is the real man's cheese. As hairy as a coconut, eating it is the
equivalent of swallowing twenty six gallons of petrol then having a
cigarette. A breathtaking, nonstop roller coaster ride of a cheese, a
cheese that knows where it's going and certainly isn't going to take any
diversions. Wensleydale eaters are much prized in Mexico, and annual
contests where competitors attempt to swallow as much as possible without
erupting into flames. The least flammable contestant is then proclaimed the
winner
It is for this reason that I have never tasted it, nor do I know a single
fact about it. It must therefore be presumed to be an elusive cheese, dark
and mysterious, cloaked in black and hanging around shadows waiting for its
next cheese consuming victim.
Head Cheese
[Ortem346] i think headcheese has to be added to your cheese page
[Sempy] yes, well if you feel like giving me a description, I'll put it on
[Sempy] if I can be shagged
[Ortem346] erm, it's the shit they scrape ouyt of a cows skull
[Sempy] ok I'll put it on there now, exactly as typed up there
Philadephia
It is not a cheese, it is a paste! As the adverts suggests it also causes
your brain cells to disintegrate. Mind you, judging by the fact that you're
reading these pages, looks like you probably eat it every damn day.
Boursin
Boursin is often used as a lubricant. It is white and greasy and makes your
arse stink of garlic. Boursin won't get you pissed, neither will it make
you very rich. Unless you actually invented it, in which case you're
probably rolling in it, you lucky bastard. Actually, if you did invent
Boursin and you are very rich, feel free to send me an e-mail, preferably
containing your address and a daytime telephone number.
Manx Cheddar
Cheese scraped from a Manxman. This cheese isn't really a cheese. It would
like to be, but it just can't be arsed really. It doesn't have much flavour
and doesn't do a lot. And it looks grumpy.
That one. That one with the walnuts. You know... that one...
Ah, you must know the one with the walnuts in it. It is easily recognised
in that it has walnuts in it. Under no circumstances eat this cheese! Upon
consumption, your ears will start to bleed and you will immediately age 40
years and start telling everyone about the war. Avoid at all costs!
Goat's Cheese
Goat's cheese is the cheese taken from a goat. It is goaty in texture,
has a faint goat-like odour and tastes of goat. If goatiness is your
thing, then goat's cheese will also be your thing. More so, maybe. Of
all the cheese on offer, this will appeal to goat fans more than any
other. Feeling goaty? Eat goat's cheese! It will appease the goat in
you.
(c) Encyclopedia of Cheese Copyright 1996 Semprini (& Son) PLC Ltd TM Co.
(Under no circumstances is Semprini (& Son) PLC Ltd TM Co. a genuine
company, neither public limited nor otherwise. It also bears no registered
trademark.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 21 Nov 1996 05:50:01 -0700
From: qotd-request@ensu.ucalgary.ca (Quote of the day)
Subject: Quote of the day
To: qotd@ensu.ucalgary.ca (Quote of the day mailing list)
"People are more violently opposed to fur than leather, because it's
safer to pick on rich women than biker gangs."
- Lenny Schafer, ddschafer@netcom.com
Submitted by: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Nov. 20, 1996
------------------------------
Date: Tue, 26 Nov 96 14:05:50 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: Tools, Explained
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: "Cochell, Jim" <jim_cochell@penmetrics.com>
My sources tell me this was in "Road & Track" last month, and was crafted
by Peter Egan....it's auto-related, but still a fine read for the "wrench"
in all of us...enjoy!
HAMMER: Originally employed as a weapon of war, the hammer nowadays is used
as a kind of divining rod to locate expensive car parts not far from the
object we are trying to hit.
MECHANIC'S KNIFE: Used to open and slice through the contents of cardboard
cartons delivered to your front door; works particularly well on boxes
containing convertible tops or tonneau covers.
ELECTRIC HAND DRILL: Normally used for spinning steel Pop rivets in their
holes until you die of old age, but it also works great for drilling rollbar
mounting holes in the floor of a sports car just above the brake line that
goes to the rear axle.
PLIERS: Used to round off bolt heads.
HACKSAW: One of a family of cutting tools built on the Ouija board
principle. It transforms human energy into a crooked, unpredictable motion,
and the more you attempt to influence its course, the more dismal your
future becomes.
VISE-GRIPS: Used to round off bolt heads. If nothing else is available,
they can also be used to transfer intense welding heat to the palm of your
hand.
OXYACETYLENE TORCH: Used almost entirely for lighting those stale garage
cigarettes you keep hidden in the back of the Whitworth socket drawer (What
wife would think to look in _there_?) because you can never remember to buy
lighter fluid for the Zippo lighter you got from the PX at Fort Campbell.
ZIPPO LIGHTER: See oxyacetelene torch.
WHITWORTH SOCKETS: Once used for working on older British cars and
motorcycles, they are now used mainly for hiding six-month old Salems from
the sort of person who would throw them away for no good reason.
DRILL PRESS: A tall upright machine useful for suddenly snatching flat metal
bar stock out of your hands so that it smacks you in the chest and flings
your beer across the room, splattering it against the Rolling Stones poster
over the bench grinder.
WIRE WHEEL: Cleans rust off old bolts and then throws them somewhere under
the workbench with the speed of light. Also removes fingerprint whorls and
hard-earned guitar callouses in about the time it takes you to say, "Django
Reinhardt".
HYDRAULIC FLOOR JACK: Used for lowering a Mustang to the ground after you
have installed a set of Ford Motorsports lowered road springs, trapping the
jack handle firmly under the front air dam.
EIGHT-FOOT LONG DOUGLAS FIR 2X4: Used for levering a car upward off a
hydraulic jack.
TWEEZERS: A tool for removing wood splinters.
PHONE: Tool for calling your neighbor Chris to see if he has another
hydraulic floor jack.
SNAP-ON GASKET SCRAPER: Theoretically useful as a sandwich tool for
spreading mayonnaise; used mainly for getting dog-doo off your boot.
E-Z OUT BOLT AND STUD EXTRACTOR: A tool that snaps off in bolt holes and is
ten times harder than any known drill bit.
TIMING LIGHT: A stroboscopic instrument for illuminating grease buildup on
crankshaft pulleys.
TWO-TON HYDRAULIC ENGINE HOIST: A handy tool for testing the tensile
strength of ground straps and hydraulic clutch lines you may have forgotten
to disconnect.
CRAFTSMAN 1/2 x 16-INCH SCREWDRIVER: A large motor mount prying tool that
inexplicably has an accurately machined screwdriver tip on the end without
the handle.
BATTERY ELECTROLYTE TESTER: A handy tool for transferring sulfuric acid from
a car battery to the inside of your toolbox after determining that your
battery is dead as a doornail, just as you thought.
AVIATION METAL SNIPS: See hacksaw.
TROUBLE LIGHT: The mechanic's own tanning booth. Sometimes called a drop
light, it is a good source of vitamin D, "the sunshine vitamin", which is
not otherwise found under cars at night. Health benefits aside, its main
purpose is to consume 40-watt light bulbs at about the same rate that 105-mm
howitzer shells might be used during, say, the first few hours of the Battle
of the Bulge. More often dark than light, its name is somewhat misleading.
PHILLIPS SCREWDRIVER: Normally used to stab the lids of old-style paper-
and-tin oil cans and splash oil on your shirt; can also be used, as the name
implies, to round-out Phillips screw heads.
AIR COMPRESSOR: A machine that takes energy produced in a coal-burning power
plant 200 miles away and transforms it into compressed air that travels by
hose to a Chicago Pneumatic impact wrench that grips rusty suspension bolts
last tightened 40 years ago by someone in Abingdon, Oxfordshire, and rounds
them off.
------------------------------
Date: Fri, 22 Nov 1996 09:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: Well, Look who's made a mistake then. Very unusual, I don't think.
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: Keith Sullivan <KSullivan@worldnet.att.net>
IF COMPUTERS HAD PERSONALITIES...
(User-Friendly)
C:\> DUR
Command not found. Try retyping
(User-Helpful)
C:\> DUR
I don't understand DUR. Do you mean DIR?
(User-Patronizing)
C:\> DUR
Now, that's not quite right is it? Let's try again; this time, use
the manual that the nice salesperson gave you when you bought me.
(User-Obsequious)
C:\> DUR
I'm so very, very sorry but I don't understand that. I'm sure it
was my fault, but if you would please try again I'll do my best.
(User-Analytical)
C:\> DUR
What makes you say that?
C:\> A TYPING MISTAKE
How long have you been making these mistakes?
C:\> OH, BANANAS
Do you like bananas?
C:\> I LOVE THEM
Why do you bring up the subject of love?
(User-McDonald's)
May I help you please?
C:\> DUR
I'm sorry but that command is not available at this time.
Have a nice day.
C:\> DIR
Will that be an MS-DOS directory?
C:\> YES
To read here, or for printout to take away?
C:\> HERE
Thank you. Have a nice day.
(User-Megalomaniac)
C:\> DUR
Don't bother me with trivial requests -- I'm busy.
(User-Hostile)
C:\> DUR
Ha! A mistake! I'm sure you meant to say FORMAT, so that's what I'll
do.
(User-Sarcastic)
C:\> DUR
Well, Look who's made a mistake then. Very unusual, I don't think.
(User-Insulting)
C:\> DUR
You Idiot
C:\> DIR
You Idiot
(User-Smug)
C:\> DUR
No
C:\> DOR
Nope
C:\> HELP
No
C:\> PLEASE
Not unless you give me a 300Mb hard disk to live on.
C:\> JERK
Abuse will get you nowhere
------------------------------
Date: Tue, 3 Dec 96 22:39:49 -0800
From: Peter Langston <psl@langston.com>
Subject: What Men Really Mean - A Continuing Series
To: Fun_People@langston.com
Forwarded-by: Eric Steese <ecscc@olywa.net>
Forwarded-by: Margaret Canavan
WHAT MEN REALLY MEAN - A CONTINUING SERIES
"I'm going fishing."
Really means...
"I'm going to drink myself dangerously stupid, and stand by a stream with
a stick in my hand, while the fish swim by in complete safety."
"Let's take your car."
Really means....
"Mine is full of beer cans, burger wrappers and completely out of gas."
"Woman driver."
Really means....
"Someone who doesn't speed, tailgate, swear, make obscene gestures and has
a better driving record than me."
"I don't care what color you paint the kitchen."
Really means....
"As long as it's not blue, green, pink, red, yellow, lavender, gray, mauve,
black, turquoise or any other color besides white."
"It's a guy thing."
Really means....
"There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no
chance at all of making it logical."
"Can I help with dinner?"
Really means....
"Why isn't it already on the table?"
"Uh huh," "Sure, honey," or "Yes, dear."
Really mean....
Absolutely nothing. It's a conditioned response like Pavlov's dog drooling.
"Good idea."
Really means....
"It'll never work. And I'll spend the rest of the day gloating."
"Have you lost weight?"
Really means....
"I've just spent our last $30 on a cordless drill."
"My wife doesn't understand me."
Really means....
"She's heard all my stories before, and is tired of them."
"It would take too long to explain."
Really means....
"I have no idea how it works."
"I'm getting more exercise lately."
Really means....
"The batteries in the remote are dead."
"I got a lot done."
Really means....
"I found 'Waldo' in almost every picture."
"We're going to be late."
Really means....
"Now I have a legitimate excuse to drive like a maniac."
"Hey, I've read all the classics."
Really means....
"I've been subscribing to Playboy since 1972."
"You cook just like my mother used to."
Really means....
"She used the smoke detector as a meal timer, too."
"I was listening to you. It's just that I have things on my mind."
Really means....
"I was wondering if that red-head over there is wearing a bra."
"Take a break, honey, you're working too hard."
Really means....
"I can't hear the game over the vacuum cleaner."
"That's interesting, dear."
Really means....
"Are you still talking?"
"Honey, we don't need material things to prove our love."
Really means....
"I forgot our anniversary again."
"You expect too much of me."
Really means....
"You want me to stay awake."
"It's a really good movie."
Really means....
"It's got guns, knives, fast cars, and Heather Locklear."
"That's women's work."
Really means....
"It's difficult, dirty, and thankless."
"Go ask your mother."
Really means....
"I am incapable of making a decision."
"You know how bad my memory is."
Really means....
"I remember the theme song to F Troop, the address of the first girl I
ever kissed, and the Vehicle Identification Numbers of every car I've ever
owned, but I forgot your birthday."
"I was just thinking about you, and got you these roses."
Really means....
"The girl selling them on the corner was a real babe."
"Football is a man's game."
Really means....
"Women are generally too smart to play it."
"Oh, don't fuss. I just cut myself, it's no big deal."
Really means....
"I have actually severed a limb, but will bleed to death before I admit I'm
hurt."
"I do help around the house."
Really means....
"I once put a dirty towel in the laundry basket."
"Hey, I've got my reasons for what I'm doing."
Really means....
"And I sure hope I think of some pretty soon."
"I can't find it."
Really means....
"It didn't fall into my outstretched hands, so I'm completely clueless."
"What did I do this time?"
Really means....
"What did you catch me at?"
"What do you mean, you need new clothes?"
Really means....
"You just bought new clothes 3 years ago."
"She's one of those rabid feminists."
Really means....
"She refused to make my coffee."
"But I hate to go shopping."
Really means....
"Because I always wind up outside the dressing room holding your purse."
"No, I left plenty of gas in the car."
Really means....
"You may actually get it to start."
"I'm going to stop off for a quick one with the guys."
Really means....
"I am planning on drinking myself into a vegetative stupor with my chest
pounding, mouth breathing, pre-evolutionary companions."
"I heard you."
Really means....
"I haven't the foggiest clue what you just said, and am hoping desperately
that I can fake it well enough so that you don't spend the next 3 days
yelling at me."
"You know I could never love anyone else."
Really means....
"I am used to the way you yell at me, and realize it could be worse."
"You look terrific."
Really means....
"Oh, God, please don't try on one more outfit. I'm starving."
"I brought you a present."
Really means....
"It was free ice scraper night at the ball game."
"I missed you."
Really means....
"I can't find my sock drawer, the kids are hungry and we are out of toilet
paper."
"I'm not lost. I know exactly where we are."
Really means....
"No one will ever see us alive again."
"We share the housework."
Really means....
"I make the messes, she cleans them up."
"This relationship is getting too serious."
Really means....
"I like you more than my truck."
"I recycle."
Really means....
"We could pay the rent with the money from my empties."
"Of course I like it, honey, you look beautiful."
Really means....
"Oh, man, what have you done to yourself?"
"It sure snowed last night."
Really means....
"I suppose you're going to nag me about shoveling the walk now."
"It's good beer."
Really means....
"It was on sale."
"I don't need to read the instructions."
Really means....
"I am perfectly capable of screwing it up without printed help."
"I'll fix the garbage disposal later."
Really means....
"If I wait long enough you'll get frustrated and buy a new one."
"I'll take you to a fancy restaurant."
Really means....
"Someplace that doesn't have a drive-thru window."
"I broke up with her."
Really means....
"She dumped me."
"Will you marry me?"
Really means....
"Both my roommates have moved out, I can't find the washer, and there is no
more peanut butter."
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 21 Nov 1996 09:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: Why did the chicken cross the road?
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: mail@IH (Maureen Denningroy){+denning@xis.xerox.com}
Forwarded-by: mgrudinoff@coordinate.com (Mark Grudinoff) at intergate
Forwarded-by: DHAYNES@sqa.com
[Be sure to check out the Anderson Consultant's answer... it's at the end.]
Plato:
For the greater good.
Karl Marx:
It was an historical inevitability.
Thomas de Torquemada:
Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out.
Timothy Leary:
Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let
it take.
Nietzsche:
Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also
across you.
Oliver North:
National Security was at stake.
Carl Jung:
The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that
individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and
therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.
Jean-Paul Sartre:
In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the chicken
found it necessary to cross the road.
Ludwig Wittgenstein:
The possibility of "crossing" was encoded into the objects
"chicken" and "road," and circumstances came into being which
caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.
Albert Einstein:
Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the
chicken depends upon your frame of reference.
Bhuddha:
If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.
Salvador Dali:
The Fish.
Darwin:
It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.
Emily Dickinson:
Because it could not stop for death.
Ralph Waldo Emerson:
It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.
Johann Friedrich von Goethe:
The eternal hen-principle made it do it.
Ernest Hemingway:
To die. In the rain.
David Hume:
Out of custom and habit.
Saddam Hussein:
This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite
justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
Jack Nicholson:
'Cause it (censored) wanted to. That's the (censored) reason.
Ronald Reagan:
I forget.
John Sununu:
The Air Force was only too happy to provide the transportation,
so quite understandably the chicken availed himself of the
opportunity.
Sappho: Due to the loveliness of the hen on the other side, more fair
than all of Hellas' fine armies.
Henry David Thoreau:
To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life.
Mark Twain:
The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.
Stephen Jay Gould:
It is possible that there is a sociobiological explanation for
it, but we have been deluged in recent years with sociobiological
stories despite the fact that we have little direct evidence
about the genetics of behavior, and we do not know how to obtain
it for the specific behaviors that figure most prominently in
sociobiological speculation.
Captain James T. Kirk:
To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
Machiavelli:
So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken
which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but
also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend
with such a paragon of avian virtue? In such a manner is the
princely chicken's dominion maintained.
Hippocrates:
Because of an excess of pleghm in its pancreas.
Andersen Consultant:
Deregulation of the chicken's side of the road was threatening
its dominant market position. The chicken was faced with
significant challenges to create and develop the competencies
required for the newly competitive market. Andersen Consulting,
in a partnering relationship with the client, helped the chicken
by rethinking its physical distribution strategy and
implementation processes. Using the Poultry Integration Model
(PIM) Andersen helped the chicken use its skills, methodologies,
knowledge capital and experiences to align the chicken's people,
processes and technology in support of its overall strategy
within a Program Management framework. Andersen Consulting
convened a diverse cross-spectrum of road analysts and best
chickens along with Andersen consultants with deep skills in the
transportation industry to engage in a two-day itinerary of
meetings in order to leverage their personal knowledge capital,
both tacit and explicit, and to enable them to synergize with
each other in order to achieve the implicit goals of delivering
and successfully architecting and implementing an enterprise-wide
value framework across the continuum of poultry cross-median
processes. The meeting was held in a park like setting enabling
and creating an impactful environment which was strategically
based, industry-focused, and built upon a consistent, clear, and
unified market message and aligned with the chicken's mission,
vision, and core values. This was conducive towards the creation
of a total business integration solution. Andersen Consulting
helped the chicken change to become more successful.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 14 Nov 1996 12:05:01 -0500 (EST)
From: Keith Bostic <bostic@bsdi.com>
Subject: Working definitions...
To: /dev/null@mongoose.bostic.com
Forwarded-by: Carl Staelin <staelin@hplms2.hpl.hp.com>
Forwarded-by: "J. Stuart Read" <sread@diba.com>
Leadership: Getting the animals to board Noah's Ark.
Management: Making sure that the elephants don't get to see what the
rabbits are doing.
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 18 Nov 1996 16:29:06 +0000
From: Duncan McAlpine <mcalpin@eskimo.com>
Subject: Your 'Have A Nice Day' Laugh (fwd)
To: yucks
Duncan McAlpine wrote:
>
> >
> > College Seniors vs. Freshmen
> >
> > Freshmen: Are never in bed past noon.
> > Seniors: Are never out of bed before noon.
> >
> > Freshmen: Read the syllabus to find out what classes they can cut.
> > Seniors: Read the syllabus to find out what classes they need to attend.
> >
> > Freshmen: Brings a can of soda into a lecture hall.
> > Seniors: Brings a jumbo hoagie and six-pack of Mtn. Dew into a
> > recitation class.
> >
> > Freshmen: Calls the professor "Professor."
> > Seniors: Calls the professor "Bob."
> >
> > Freshmen: Would walk ten miles to get to class.
> > Seniors: Drives to class if it's further than three blocks away.
> >
> > Freshmen: Memorizes the course material to get a good grade.
> > Seniors: Memorizes the professor's habits to get a good grade.
> >
> > Freshmen: Knows a book-full of useless trivia about the university.
> > Seniors: Knows where the next class is. Maybe...
> >
> > Freshmen: Shows up at a morning exam clean, perky, and fed.
> > Seniors: Shows up at a morning exam in sweats with a cap on and a box
> > of pop tarts in hand.
> >
> > Freshmen: Have to ask where the computer labs are.
> > Seniors: Has 'own' personal workstation.
> >
> > Freshmen: Use the campus buses to go everywhere.
> > Seniors: Use the campus buses to run block while crossing the street.
> >
> > Freshmen: Worry about the last freshman composition essay.
> > Seniors: Worry about the last GRE essay.
> >
> > Freshman: Lines up for an hour to buy his textbooks in the first week.
> > Senior: Starts to think about buying textbooks in October... maybe.
> >
> > Freshman: Looks forward to first classes of the year
> > Senior: Looks forward to first beer garden of the year
> >
> > Freshman: Is proud of his A+ on Calculus I midterm
> > Senior: Is proud of not _quite_ failing his Complex Analysis midterm
> >
> > Freshman: Calls his girlfriend back home every other night
> > Senior: Calls Domino's every other night
> >
> > Freshman: Is appalled at the class size and callousness of profs
> > Senior: Is appalled that the campus 'Subway' burned down over the summer
> >
> > Freshman: Conscienciously completes all homework, including optional
> > questions
> > Senior: Offers to 'tutor' conscientious frosh of opposite sex...
> >
> > Freshman: Goes on grocery shopping trip with Mom before moving onto campus
> > Senior: Has a beer with Mom before moving onto campus
> >
> > Freshman: Is excited about the world of possibilities that awaits him,
> > the unlimited vista of educational opportunities, the chance to
> > expand one's horizons and really make a contribution to society
> > Senior: Is excited about new dryers in laundry room
> >
> > Freshman: Takes meticulous four-color notes in class
> > Senior: Occasionally stays awake for all of class
[How very true. --spaf]
------------------------------
End of Yucks Digest
------------------------------