Friday, March 9, 2018

(to the tune of "Gilligan's Island," more or less)

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

Main memory was smaller then:
Hard disks were smaller, too.
"Four digits are extravagant,
So let's get by with two.
So let's get by with two."

"This works through 1999,"
The programmers did say.
"Unless we rewrite by then
It all will go away.
It all will go away.

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

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

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

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

(key change, big finish)

There's not much time,        
There's too much code.
(And Cobol-coders, few)
When the century is finished with
We may be finished, too.
We may be finished, too.

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


God created the mule, and told him: "You will be Mule, working constantly from dusk to dawn, carrying heavy loads on your back.  You will eat grass but you will lack intelligence.  You will live for 40 years."
The mule answered: "To live like this for 40 years is too much.  Please, give me no more than 20,"
And it was so.

Then God created the dog, and told him: "You will hold vigilance over the dwellings of Man, to whom you will be his greatest companion.  You will eat his table scraps and live for 25 years."
And the dog responded: "Lord, to live 25 years as a dog is too much.  Please, no more than 10 years."
And it was so.

God then created the monkey, and told him: "You are Monkey.
You will swing from tree to tree, acting like an idiot.  You will be funny, and you shall live for 20 years."
And the monkey responded: "Lord, to live 20 years as the clown of the world is too much.  Please, Lord, give me no more than 10 years."
And it was so.

Finally, God created Man and told him: "You are Man, the only rational being that walks the earth.  You will use your intelligence to have mastery over the creatures of the world.  You will dominate the earth and live for 20 years."
And the man responded: "Lord, to be Man for only 20 years is too little.  Please, Lord, give me the 20 years the mule refused, the 15 years the dog refused, and the ten years the monkey rejected."
And it was so.

And so God made Man to live 20 years as a man, then marry and live 20 years like a mule working and carrying heavy loads on his back.  Then, he is to have children and live
15 years as a dog, guarding his house and eating the leftovers after they empty the pantry; then, in his old age, to live 10 years as a monkey, acting like a fool to amuse his grandchildren.
And it was so. 


This is an actual job application submitted at a McDonald's fast-food establishment AND THEY HIRED HIM!  (editor's note: I would have hired him too!!)

NAME: Greg Bulmash DESIRED POSITION: Reclining.  HA.  But seriously, whatever's available.  If I was in a position to be picky, I wouldn't be applying here in the first place.

DESIRED SALARY: $185,000 a year plus stock options and a Michael Ovitz style severance package.  If that's not possible make an offer and we can haggle.


LAST POSITION HELD: Target for middle management hostility.

SALARY: Less than I'm worth.

MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT: My incredible collection of stolen pens and post-it notes.



PREFERRED HOURS: 1:30-3:30 p.m., Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.

DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?: Yes, but they're better suited to a more intimate environment.

MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: If I had one, would I be here?


DO YOU HAVE A CAR?: I think the more appropriate question here would be "Do you have a car that runs?"

I may already be a winner of the Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes.

DO YOU SMOKE?: Only when set on fire.

Living in the Bahamas with a fabulously wealthy super model who thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread.  Actually, I'd like to be doing that now.


SIGN HERE: Scorpio with Libra rising.


JUST HER SIZE  - by Dave Barry

I believe that, in general, women are saner than men.  For example: if you see people who have paid good money to stand in an outdoor stadium on a freezing December day wearing nothing on the upper halves of their bodies except paint, those people will be male.

    Without males, there would be no such sport as professional lawn mower racing.  Also, there would be a 100 percent decline in the annual number of deaths related to efforts to shoot beer cans off of heads.  Also, if women were in charge of all the world’s nations, there would be – I sincerely believe this – virtually no military conflicts, and if there was a military conflict, everybody involved would feel just awful, and there would soon be a high-level exchange of thoughtful notes, written on greeting cards with flowers on the front, followed by a Peach Luncheon (which would be salads, with the dressing on the side).

    So, I sincerely believe that women are wiser than men, with the exception of one key area, and that area is…clothing sizes.  In this particular area, women are insane.  When a man shops for clothes, his primary objective – follow me closely here – is to purchase clothes that fit on his particular body.  A man will try on a pair of pants, and if those pants are too small, he’ll try on a larger pair, and when he finds a pair that fits, he buys them.  Most men do not spend a lot of time fretting about the size of their pants.  Many men wear jeans with the size printed right on the back label, so that if you’re standing behind a man in a supermarket line, you can read his waist and inseam size.  A man could have, say, a 52-inch waist and a 30-inch inseam, and his label will proudly display this information, which is basically the same thing as having a sign that says, “Howdy!  My butt is the size of a Federal Express truck!”

    The situation is very different with women.  When a woman shops for clothes, her primary objective is NOT to find clothes that fit her particular body.  She would like for that to be the case, but her primary objective is to purchase clothes that are the size she wore when she was 19 years old.  This will be some arbitrary number, such as “8” or “10”.  Don’t as me “8” or “10” of what; that question has baffled scientists for centuries.  All I know is that if a woman was a size 8 at age 19, she wants to be a size 8 now, and if a size 8 outfit does not fit her, she will not move on to a larger size.  She can’t!  Her size is 8!  So she will keep trying on size 8 items, and unless they start fitting her, she will become extremely unhappy.  She may take this unhappiness out on her husband, who is waiting patiently in the mall, perhaps browsing in the Sharper Image store, trying to think of how he could justify purchasing a pair of night-vision binoculars.  “Hi!” he’ll say, when his wife finds him.  “You know how sometimes the electricity goes out at night,
and…”  “Am I fat?”  she’ll ask, cutting him off.  This is a very bad situation for the man, because if he answers, “yes,” she’ll be angry because he’s saying she’s fat, and if he answers, “no,” she’ll be angry because HE’S OBVIOUSLY LYING BECAUSE NONE OF THE SIZE 8’s FIT HER.  There is no escape for the husband.

    I think a lot of unexplained disappearances occur because guys in malls see their wives unsuccessfully trying on outfits, and they realize their lives will be easier if, before their wives come out and demand to know whether they’re fat, the guys just run off and join a UFO cult.  The other day my wife, Michelle, was in a terrific mood, and you know why?  Because she had successfully put on a size 6 outfit.  She said this made her feel wonderful.  She said, and this is a direct quote:  "“ wouldn't care if these pants were this big (here she held her arms far apart) as long as they have a “6” on them!”

    Here’s how you could get rich:  Start a women’s clothing store called “SIZE 2” in which al garments, including those that were originally intended to be restaurant awnings, had labels with the words “SIZE 2”.  I bet you’d sell clothes like crazy.  You’d probably get rich, and you could retire, maybe take up some philanthropic activity to benefit humanity.  I’m thinking here of professional lawn mower racing.


A Lawyer And A Blonde

A lawyer and a blonde are sitting next to each other on a long flight from LA to NY.

The lawyer leans over to her and asks if she would like to play a fun game. The blonde just wants to take a nap, so she politely declines and rolls over to the window to catch a few winks.

The lawyer persists and explains that the game is really easy and a of of fun. He explains......I ask you a question, and if you don't know the answer, you pay me $5, and visa-versa. Again, she politely declines and tries to get some sleep.

The lawyer, now somewhat agitated, says, Okay, if you don't know the answer you pay me $5, and if I don't know the answer, I will pay you $50! figuring that since she is a blonde that he will easily win the match.

This catches the blonde's attention and, figuring that there will
be no end to this torment unless she plays, agrees to the game.
The lawyer asks the first question. What's the distance from the
earth to the moon? The blonde doesn't say a word, reaches to her purse, pulls out a five-dollar bill and hands it to the lawyer.

Now, it's the blonde's turn. She asks the lawyer: What goes up a hill with three legs, and comes down with four? The lawyer looks at her with a puzzled look. He takes out his laptop computer and searches all his references. He taps into the Airphone with his modem and searches the Net and the Library of Congress.
Frustrated, he sends E-mails to all his co-workers and friends he knows. All to no avail. After over an hour, he wakes the blonde and hands her $50. The blonde politely takes the $50 and turns away to get back to sleep.

The lawyer, who is more than a little miffed, wakes the blonde and asks, Well, so what IS the answer!? Without a word, the blonde reaches into her purse, hands the lawyer $5, and goes back to sleep.


Another Dumb Blond Joke

A man was in his front yard mowing grass when his attractive
blond female neighbor came out of the house and went straight to the mail box.

She opened it then slammed it shut stormed back in the house.  A little later she came out of her house again went to the mail box and again opened it, slammed it shut again.  Angrily, back into the house she went.

As the man was getting ready to edge the lawn, here she came out again, marched to the mail box, opened it and then slammed it closed harder than ever.

Puzzled by her actions the man asked her, "Is something wrong?"

To which she replied,"There certainly is!"

(are you ready?)

My stupid computer keeps saying, "YOU'VE GOT MAIL."


The Corporate Lingo Directory "COMPETITIVE SALARY"
We remain competitive by paying less than our competitors.

We have no time to train you.

You'll be six months behind schedule on your first day.

Some time each night and some time each weekend.

Anyone in the office can boss you around.

Female Applicants must be childless (and remain that way).

If you're old, fat or ugly you'll be told the position has been filled.

We've filled the job; our call for resumes is just a legal formality.

You'll need it to replace three people who just left.

You'll have the responsibilities of a manager, without the pay or respect.

Management communicates, you listen, figure out what they want and do it.

I've used Microsoft Office.

I blame others for my mistakes.

I give lots of unsolicited personal advice to co-workers.

I carry a Day-Timer.

I've changed jobs a lot.

I'm never at my desk.

The minute I find a better job I'm outta here.


Dear Tech Support:
I am writing this letter as a last resort.  Last year I upgraded
from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 and noticed that the new program began
unexpected child processing that took up a lot of space and valuable
resources. No mention of this phenomenon was included in the product

In addition, Wife 1.0 installs itself into all other programs and
launches during system initialization, where it monitors all
other system activity.

Applications such as Poker Night 10.3, Drunken Boys Night
2.5 and Saturday Football 5.0 no longer run,
crashing the system whenever selected.
I cannot seem to keep Wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to run
some of my other favourite applications.

I am thinking about going back to Girlfriend 7.0, but un-install
does not work on this program.

Can you help me, please!!!


Dear Frustrated

This is a very common problem that men complain about but it
is mostly due to a primary misconception. Many people upgrade from
Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 with the idea that Wife 1.0 is merely a
"UTILITIES & ENTERTAINMENT" program.  Wife 1.0 is an
OPERATING SYSTEM and designed by its creator to run everything.
It is unlikely you would be able to purge Wife 1.0 and still convert
back to Girlfriend 7.0. 

Hidden operating files within your system would cause
Girlfriend 7.0 to emulate Wife 1.0 so nothing is gained.

It is impossible to un-install, delete, or purge the program files
from the system once installed. You can not go back to Girlfriend 7.0
because Wife 1.0 is not designed to do this.

Some have tried to install Girlfriend 8.0 or Wife 2.0 but end up
with more problems than the original system.  Look in your manual under
Warnings - Alimony/Child Support."

I recommend you keep Wife 1.0 and just deal with the situation.
Having Wife 1.0 installed myself, I might also suggest you readthe
entire section regarding General Partnership Faults (GPFs).

You must assume all responsibility for faults and problems that
might occur, regardless of their cause. 

The best course of action will be to enter the command

In any case avoid excessive use of the "Esc" key because ultimately
you will have to give the APOLOGISE command before the
operating system will return to normal. 
The system will run smoothly as long as you take the
blame for all the GPFs. Wife 1.0 is a great program, but very high
maintenance. Consider buying additional software to improve the
performance of Wife 1.0. I recommend Flowers 2.1 and Chocolates 5.0.

Do not, under any circumstances, install Secretary With
Short Skirt 3.3.

This is not a supported application for Wife 1.0 and is likely to cause
irreversible damage to the operating system.

Best of luck.
Tech Support


Bears in Bars
 A bear walks into a bar in Billings, Montana and sits down.
 He bangs on the bar with his paw and demands a beer.  The
 bartender approaches and says, "We don't  serve beer to bears
 in bars in Billings."

 The bear, becoming angry, demands again that he be served a
 beer.  The  bartender tells him again, more forcefully, "We don't  serve beer to belligerent bears in  bars in Billings."

 The bear, very angry now, says, "If you don't serve me a
 beer, I'm going to eat that lady sitting at the end of the bar." 
 The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't  serve beer to belligerent,
 bully bears in bars in Billings."

 The bear goes to the end of the bar, and as promised, eats  the
 woman. He comes back to his seat and again demands a beer.  The bartender  states, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in  Billings who are on  drugs."

 The bear says, "I'm not on drugs."

 The bartender says, "You are now.  That was a  barbitchyouate."


First Sky Diving Jump

 A fellow gets ready to make his first jump. His jumpmaster sees he's nervous and says, "Don't worry. Just get out there, arch, count to ten, and pull your main ripcord.
 If there's a problem with the main, you know you have a reserve. When you land, the truck will pick you up and take you back to the loft."

 So the fellow exits, arches and pulls. Nothing happens. He pulls on his reserve ripcord.  Dirty laundry comes out of the reserve container. He's falling faster, close to terminal, and he looks at the ground and says, "Great. I bet the darn truck won't be there, either."


The lost Dr. Seuss book:


    I love my job, I love the pay!
    I love it more and more each day.
    I love my boss; he is the best!
    I love his boss and all the rest.

    I love my office and its location -
    I hate to have to go on vacation.
    I love my furniture, drab and gray,
    And the paper that piles up every day!

    I love my chair in my padded cell!
    There's nothing else I love so well.
    I love to work among my peers -
    I love their leers and jeers and sneers.

    I love my computer and all its software;
    I hug it often though it doesn't care...
    I love each program and every file,
    I try to understand once in a while!!

    I'm happy to be here, I am, I am;
    I'm the happiest slave of my uncle Sam.
    I love this work: I love these chores.
    I love the meetings with those deadly bores.

    I love my job - I'll say it again -
    I even love these friendly men -
    These men who've come to visit today
    In lovely white coats to take me away!

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