From: Automatic digest processor [LISTSERV@LISTSERV.UGA.EDU] Sent: Monday, June 12, 2000 2:00 AM To: Recipients of HUMOR digests Subject: HUMOR Digest - 11 Jun 2000 to 12 Jun 2000 (#2000-164) There are 5 messages totalling 284 lines in this issue. Topics of the day: 1. Bar Room Translations 2. Useful Phrases 3. Grass 4. Real Programmers... 5. Urgently Required! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sun, 11 Jun 2000 09:09:12 -0400 From: Bill Stebbins Subject: Bar Room Translations 1.Haven't I Seen You Here Before? (Did I leave a pair of underwear at your house) 2. Do you want to dance? (I don't really give a damn, but want to get into your jeans by last round) 3. I'm personal friends with the bartender (I think I might be headed for AA) 4. I always leave big tips (I just like the sound of the bar-bell and watch all the 'chicks' turn their heads my way) 5. I like Motown. (I'm white, you're not---I want you now!) 6. I love The Grateful Dead (I think you're gay, but I'm just feeling you out) 7. I'm sending a drink to the one down at the end of the bar (That's the mark.....two hours til closing) 8. Lemme guy you a wink. (I mean, I did finish the DWI classes, but I just still slur a little) 9. Lead me to your master (OK....you know what I'm into...what are you going to be into....NOW) 10. I have a dog at home (If we leave together, we'll have to sneak into my place very, very quietly) http://www.people.cornell.edu/pages/bs16 ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 11 Jun 2000 11:13:00 -0400 From: Terry Galan Subject: Useful Phrases Useful English System conversions/units: * Ratio of an igloo's circumference to its diameter = Eskimo Pi * 2.4 statute miles of intravenous surgical tubing at Yale University Hospital = 1 I.V. League * 2000 pounds of Chinese soup = Won Ton * 1 millionth cup of mouthwash = 1 microscope * Speed of a tortoise breaking the sound barrier = Mach Turtle * Time it takes to sail 220 yards at 1 nautical mile per hour = knot-furlong * 365.25 days of drinking low-calorie beer because it's less filling = 1 light year * 16.5 feet in the Twilight Zone = 1 Rod Serling * 1/2 large intestine = 1 semicolon * 1000 aches = 1 megahertz * Weight an evangelist carries with God = 1 billigram * Basic unit of laryngitis = 1 hoarsepower * Shortest distance between two jokes = a straight line * Time between slipping on a peel and smacking the pavement = 1 bananosecond * 453.6 graham crackers = 1 pound cake * Given the old adage "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step," the first step of a one-mile journey = 1 Milwaukee ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 11 Jun 2000 18:14:25 -0700 From: Stan Kegel Subject: Grass "Winterize your lawn," the big sign outside the garden store commanded. I've fed it, watered it, mowed it, raked it and watched a lot of it die anyway. Now I'm supposed to winterize it? I hope it's too late. Grass lawns have to be the stupidest thing we've come up with outside of thong swimsuits! We constantly battle dandelions, Queen Anne's lace, thistle, violets, chicory and clover that thrive naturally, so we can grow grass that must be nursed through an annual four-step chemical dependency. Imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis about this: "Frank you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the Midwest? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles." "It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with grass." "Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?" "Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn." "The spring rains and cool weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy." "Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it - sometimes twice a week." "They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?" "Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags." "They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?" "No, sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away" "Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?" "Yes, sir." "These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work." "You aren't going believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it." "What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life." "You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and have them hauled away." "No! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and keep the soil moist and loose?" "After throwing away your leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves." "And where do they get this mulch?" "They cut down trees and grind them up." "Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?" "Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about..." "Never mind I think I just heard the whole story." ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 11 Jun 2000 21:50:58 -0500 From: Karen Schloss Subject: Real Programmers... Quite some time ago, an item was posted to this list about "Real Programmers..." I was not able to locate the list I had read in 1985, when I first saw it go around, but I did run across an exchange from the local bulletin board on which I was a conference operator at the time. It was in response to the piece that begins "Real Programmers Don't..." =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Real Programmers don't drink Perrier. They mainline caffiene (Coke or coffee.) You know you are on the trail of a real programmer by their spoor: various manuals (spiral bound and 3-ring), printout (greenbar, unburst),stubby pencils and leaky pens, empty Coke cans. This trail usually leads from the terminal to the counch they crashed on after the latest 30-hour stint. You know you have found a real programmer on the counch: s/he/it hasn't bathed, shaved, combed hair or changed clothes in four days. Also tends to use greenbar for a blanket and manual for a pillow. If they haven't finished their project yet, the easiest way to rouse them is to pick up the manual that's face down on the floor by their head. Beware of a true programmer that has been awakened in this manner! Real Programmers don't play with magnets (not the kind in the drive head.) Real Programmers don't watch AS MY STOMACH TURNS (or any other soap); they spend their time reprogramming the missle silos in Arizona or NASA. Real Programmers don't have jobs, they write programs and secretly (shhh!) take money out of their neighbors' bank account and put it into theirs. Try to move a project programmer like described above, and we will see you whenever the computer prints you out again. Real Programmers don't unless they absolutely have to. Real Programmers think MTV is a new microprocessor. In all actuality, real programmers don't worry or think about what real programmers do because they're too busy working to make their programs work. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- I don't think things have changed all that much since 1985! --karen ____________________________________________________________________ Karen Schloss Signpost Information Service kschloss@signpost.mwci.net (800)-365-7789 #105 337 [Pager] http://www.signpost.mwci.net/ _______________________________________________________________________ Solitude: A good place to visit, but a poor place to stay. --Josh Billings (1818-1885) _______________________________________________________________________ ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 12 Jun 2000 10:27:59 +0530 From: chaps Subject: Urgently Required! Uregently Required, Inside Information for your eyes only: If you think you're an expert on porn, the National Research Council needs your help! The esteemed scientific organization this week put out a call for volunteers to join a government advisory panel. The goal: to prepare a report on how to protect kids from smut "and other inappropriate Internet content." I have enlisted, join today! Chalapathi And His Four-Line Signature! :-) ------------------------------ End of HUMOR Digest - 11 Jun 2000 to 12 Jun 2000 (#2000-164) ************************************************************