Whatever jokes

If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,
and the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,
and the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,
then the socket packet pocket has an error to report.

If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,
and the double-clicking icon puts your window in the trash,
and your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,
then your situation's hopeless and your system's gonna crash!

If the label on the cable on the table at your house,
says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,
but your packets want to tunnel on another protocol,
that's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall,
and your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss,
so your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,
then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,
'cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang!

When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,
And the microcode instructions cause unnecessary risc,
Then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM
Quicky turn off the computer and be sure to tell your mom!

"I'm so sorry!" the man said.

"Don't worry about it. Anyway, you caught me. I'm a leprechaun and you have managed to stop me. You get three wishes."

"Oh, no, I don't want the wishes. Just as long as you're okay." The leprechaun thought the man was so nice he decided to grant three wishes for him. He gave him unlimited money, terrific health, and a great sex life. The man came back to the golf course the next year and recognized that same leprechaun.

"How're you doing?" asked the leprechaun.

"Oh, terrific. Everytime I stick my hand in my pocket a 100 dollar bill comes out and I've eaten nothing but Snickers bars for a year and I'm at my ideal weight and can run a mile faster than anyone."

"How's your sex life?" asked the leprechaun.

"Fantastic! I'm up to twice a week now!"

"Twice a week? Why so little? I gave you a great sex life wish!"

"Hey, it's not bad for a priest!"

The campground owner wasn't old-fashioned at all and when he got the letter, he just couldn't figure out what the woman was talking about. That B.C. business really stumped him. After worrying about it for a while, he showed the letter to several campers, but they couldn't imagine what the lady meant either. So the campground owner, finally coming to the conclusion that the lady must be asking about the location of the local Baptist Church, sat down and wrote the following reply:

"Dear Madam: I regret very much for the delay in answering your letter. I now take the pleasure in informing you that a B.C. is located nine miles north of the campground and is capable of seating 250 people at one time. I admit it is quite a distance away if you are in the habit of going regularly, but no doubt you will be pleased to know that a great number of people usually take their lunches along and make a day of it. They usually arrive early and stay late.

The last time my wife and I went was six years ago and it was so crowded that we had to stand up the whole time we were there. It may interest you to know that right now, there is a supper being planned to raise money to buy more seats. They're going to hold it in the basement of the B.C. I would like to say it pains me very much not to be able to go more regularly but it is sure no lack of desire on my part. As we grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, particularly in cold weather.

If you do decide to come down to our campground, perhaps I could go with you the first time you go, sit with you, and introduce you to all the other folks. Remember, this is a friendly community."