User
(To the tune of Beck’s “Loser”)

In the day of sysop nerds I was a flunkie
Jolt in my brains and body feeling chunky
With the plastic mouse balls spray paint the Commodore
System install with the hard drive on the floor

Kill the process and put it in /dev/null
Email flaming with the user hitting D-control
Shell’s called Reno and it’s written in C
Got a couple of xterms, keys set to repeat

Root came sayin’ I’m insane to complain
About an online wedding and a stain on my screen
Don’t believe everything that you make(1)
You get a cracker from Europe and a login that’s fake

So write your code in Perl in the dark
Saving all your hacks for working at a tech park
Yo – punch it

So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?
(Double dense floppy)
So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?

Forces of evil in a MUD/MOO nightmare
Ban all the members in a phony #chat channel ’cause
One’s got a handle and the other’s got a .plan
One online spammed the other and ran

With the FTP and the insane print job
The daytime crap of the alt.test slob
He hung himself with a call to ping
Twenty milliseconds and it’s spitting out another string

RTFM if you can’t relate
Trade the Sun for a car and the Web for a date
And MIME is a nifty hack for mailing to a newbie
That’s choking on my MPEGs

So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?
(Get crazy with the caps lock)
So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?
(Drive-by BIFF post)

…
Yo, bring it on down
…
I’m a hacker, I’m a winner
Program’s gonna work, I can feel it

So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?
(I can’t retrieve you)
So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?
(NULL)

So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?
(Sprecken sie DOS, eh, baby)
So – dumping core
I’m a user, baby, so why don’t you kill(1) me?
(Know what I’m typin’?)

14 Signs Your Online Relationship Isn’t Working Out

14) You discover that “Chesty McBust” isn’t her real name, and she’s dialing in from Langley, VA.

13) You: Large, hairy man. Your online girlfriend: Large, hairy man.

12) Her postmaster rejects your e-mail not as “undeliverable” but as “unlikely to get you anywhere.”

11) After months of shared experiences and emotional investments, she attacks you in the Mines of Quarn with a Vorpal Sword when she learns you’re worth 45,000 points.

10) “Returned mail: User unknown and never wants to hear from you again.”

9) Your cyberlover is just too busy editing that silly little Top 5 List.

Getting perhaps a bit too comfortable, she lets a reference to cutting her chin shaving slip by.

7) You discover that she has been cutting and pasting her orgasms.

6) You can barely make out your SO’s face in the JPEG she sent because she’s obscured by her 25 cats.

5) He claims to be the richest man in the world, but his GIF looks like some geek who works for a software company.

4) Since her first e-mail, [email protected] has become cold and distant.

3) She’s suddenly changed her address to [email protected]

2) Ken Starr launches an investigation into your relationship with the mysterious “[email protected]”

1) In an ironic twist of fate, you discover that the object of your affection is a curvaceous 18 year old, rather than the geeky 14 year old boy she’d pretended to be.

Night before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Net,
There were hacker’s a surfing. Nerds? Yeah, you bet.
The e-mails were stacked by the modem with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens,
While visions of Java danced in their dreams.
My wife on the sofa and me with a snack,
We just settled down at my rig (it’s a Mac).
When out in the Web there arose such a clatter,
I jumped to the site to see what was the matter.
To a new page my Mac flew like a flash,
Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!!
I gasped at the thought and started to grouse,
Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
My Mac jumped to a page that wasn’t quite clear.
When the image resolved, so bright and so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came,
Then Nick glanced toward my screen, my Mac called them by name;
“Now Compaq! Now Acer!”, my speaker did reel;
“On Apple! On Gateway!” Santa started to squeal!
“Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip!
Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!”
The screen gave a flicker, he was into my RAM,
Then into my room rose a full hologram!
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes,
Which were black (the white socks he really should lose).
He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack.
Santa looked like a dude who was rarin’ to hack!
His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno!
This ain’t the same Santa that I used to know!
With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke,
And accessed my C drive with only a stroke.
He defragged my hard drive, and added a DIMM,
Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim!
He worked without noise, his fingers they flew!
He distorted some pictures with Kai’s Power Goo!
He updated Office, Excel and Quicken,
Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken!
My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape,
As he added the latest version of Netscape.
The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased,
St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased.
Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose,
Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros!
He flew back into my screen and through my uplink,
Back into the net with barely a blink.
But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight,
“Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!”

The AOL car would have a TOP speed of 40 MPH yet have a 200 MPH speedometer.

The AOL car would come equipped with a NEW and fantastic 8-Track tape player.

The car would often refuse to start and owners would just expect this and try again later.

The windshield would have an extra dark tint to protect the driver from seeing better cars.

AOL would sell the same model car year after year and claim it’s the NEW model.

Every now and then the brakes on the AOL car would just “lock-up” for no apparent reason.

The AOL car would have a very plain body style but would have lots’a pretty colors and lights.

The AOL car would have only one door but it would have 5 extra seats for family members.

Anyone dissatisfied could return the car but must continue to make payments for 6 months.

If an AOL car owner received 3 parking tickets AOL would take the car off of them.

The AOL car would have an AOL Cell phone that can only place calls to other AOL car cell phones.

AOL would pass a new car law forbidding AOL car owners from driving near other car dealerships.

AOL car mechanics would have no experience in car repair.

Younger AOL car drivers would be able to make other peoples AOL cars stall just for fun.

It would not be possible to upgrade your AOL car stereo.

AOL cars would be forced to use AOL gas that cost 20% more and gave worse mileage.

Anytime an AOL car owner saw another AOL car owner he would wonder, M/F/age?

It would be common for AOL car owners to divorce just to marry another AOL car owner.

AOL car owners would always claim to be older or younger than they really are.

AOL cars would come with a steering wheel and AOL would claim no other cars have them.

Every time you close the door on the AOL car it would say, “Good-Bye.”

Top nine reasons computers must be male:

They have a lot of data but are still clueless.
A better model is always just around the corner.
They look nice and shiny until you bring them home.
It is always necessary to have a backup.
They’ll do whatever you say if you push the right buttons.
The best part of having either one is the games you can play.
The lights are on but nobody’s home.
Big power surges knock them out for the night.
Size does matter

Top nine reasons computers must be female:

Picky, picky, picky.
They hear what you say, but not what you mean.
Beauty is only shell deep.
When you ask what’s wrong, they say “nothing”.
Can produce incorrect results with alarming speed.
Always turning simple statements into big productions.
Smalltalk is important.
You do the same thing for years, and suddenly it’s wrong.
They make you take the garbage out.