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InterNet NutWorks compiled humour file 14 of 25
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Electronic Humor Magazine.
Issue014, (Volume III, Number 2). December, 1986
NutWorks is published semi-monthly-ish by
Brent C.J. Britton, <Brent@Maine.BITNET>
We attempt to procure or produce original humorous articles for
publication. We apologize if any articles appearing herein are
not credited to the original author(s). Really, we do...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'd like to solve the puzzle, Pat."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
NewsWorks
=========
In what he called "my worst surge of procrastination since I put off
changing my underwear for 3 years as a child," the editor of NutWorks
magazine said today that he halted publication of the electronic humor
magazine for the entire month of November because, "it seemed like a
pretty good thing to do at the time, what with all the snow and rain
and final exams coming up you know, I just didn't feel much like coming
in to the office all month so I pretty much didn't..."
The NutWorks editor said that he enjoyed his sabattical so much that
he figured more folks should try it sometime, so he has advised President
Reagan to officially declare the month of November a legal holiday.
When asked for comment, the President had this to say: "Well..."
In response to allegations that he spent the month of November
entrenched deeply in the American sale of Arms to Iran, the NutWorks
editor said, "Ummm... upon the advice of counsel, I respectfully drink
a fifth..."
And now a word from our sponsor.
------------
Music: There's no slowin' down at the Silver Bullet toni-ight...
Actor1: Gee, this is a pretty neat tavern.
Actor2: Yep...
Actor1: Are we supposed to be trying to sell Coors Light Beer?
Actor2: Indirectly.
Actor1: Whatd'ya' mean?
Actor2: We're supposed to say funny things and show a lot of happy
people so people will think that drinking Coors will make them
popular and attractive.
Actor1: Oh. I see.
Actor2: We're also trying to make people associate us with another
renowned drinking establishment.
Norm: Hello everybody...
Everybody: NORM!
Norm: Oops, wrong bar...
Actor2: See?
Actor1: I get it!
Music: There's no slowin' down at the Silver Bullet toni-ight!
------------
And now, back to the news.
Announcing the NutWorks Call for Song Parodies! Got a little of
"Weird Al" in you? The staff of NutWorks plans to dedicate a future
issue solely to the publication of song parodies. If have written a
song parody, and would like to have it published in the special Song
Parody Issue, send it to [email protected] as soon as possible. We
request that each submission contain some hint as to which song it is
a parody of, preferably in the form: "Sung to the tune of..."
The special Song Parody Issue will only be published if enough original
song parodies are received by February 1, 1987.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nuts & Bolts
==============
by Brent C.J. Britton
Well folks, it's that time of the Terran rotation again. And don't
act like you weren't expecting it! You there, in the back. Yes you!
Stop pretending to study for those final exams and get with it! It's
time again! It's time to go into the attic and get the tree out from
under the summer clothes. It's time to sit down for a few hours with a
pair of pliers and a cigarette lighter trying to untangle your seven
strings of blinking, multi-colored lights. It's time to open that sacred
box of decorations only find that the cat has shredded the tinsel,
squashed the bulbs, and pooped on the garland. Dammit, it's time to
spike the nog!
That's right friends, Christmas is upon us.
Yes, I said Christmas.
Right here in River City. With a capital "C" and that doesn't rhyme
with "X" but that spells "Xmas" too. And friends, it's time again for
each and every one of us to postpone our pressing engagements in favor
of getting some of that festive yuletide cheer hammered squarely down
our throats. Why? It's tradition. In fact, it's been a tradition since
about the year n A.D., where "n" is a very small positive integer.
You see, roughly two thousand years ago, it is said, a child was
given birth by a virgin. (An event in itself worthy of yearly celebra-
tion, in my humble opinion.) So rare was a Divine conception in those
days that The Birth was attended by several leading dignitaries who
brought gifts for the child and his mother. "Hark," said they, for the
Herald Angels were singing.
Anyhow, the child grew up to become a big supporter of peace on Earth
and goodwill toward men, and for this He was crucified by some people who
just didn't have their shit together at all.
It is in honor of this man that we celebrate Christmas.
(Note: The above story has been somewhat abbreviated, for the sake
of space. For the complete details, see the second half of the large,
black book normally found in the top drawer of the night stand in most
hotel rooms.)
It is certainly no suprise, (considering the natural human tendency
to completely miss the point of anything more meaningful than a Certz
commercial), that Christmas, being a birthday party of massive propor-
tions, is commonly referred to as "The Holiday Gift Buying Season." To
many people, the "meaning of Christmas" is closely tied to the act of
trading enormous sums of cash in exchange for retail goods. These items
are then wrapped and bound in multicolored paper, ribbons and bows,
(preferably by a member of that elite group of people who posseses the
dexterity to "do the ends"), and then handed over as gifts to friends
and family. The gift recipients, in turn, mutilate said wrapping, brief-
ly admire said item, and then trade it back to the retailer in exchange
for the abovementioned cash. It's a bookkeeper's nightmare.
But, it's a child's dream! After all, Christmas *is* for the child-
ren, right? Little Johnny wants a set of Ultra-Destructo-Man toy weapons
which can be set on "stun," "kill," or "liquify" and with which he can
shred the table-cloth, for example, or decapitate the dog. Little Susie
wants a doll which she can cause to urinate on demand, she hopes, upon
Little Johnny. If either of these toys aren't found under the tree on
Christmas morning, the children will only stop long enough to wish a pox
on Mommy and Daddy before running away.
So friends, let's deck the halls with gobs of holly, toss another
Kingsford Quik-Lite Yule Log into the fireplace, kill an evergreen or
two, devour a Canadian water fowl, lift our glasses high in celebration
of Christmas, and be mirthful in the knowledge that the broken bones
sustained in last year's Race for the Cabbage Patch Dolls are nearly
healed. Merry Christmas.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi, I'm Sam Kennyson and when I'm not doing my stand up comedy routine,
I like to read NutWorks Humor Magazine. It's The BEST THING THAT'S
HAPPENED TO ME SINCE MY FIFTH DIVORCE!!! AAUUGHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGHHHH!!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Twas the Night Before Implementation
====================================
Submitted by Wildebeest <33000003@UNFVM>
'Twas the night before implementation and all through the house,
Not a program was working not even a browse.
The programmers hung by their tubes of despair,
with hope that a miracle would soon be there.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of inquires danced in their heads.
When out of the machine room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a super programmer, (with a six-pack of beer).
His resume glowed with experience so rare,
he turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair.
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
and he cursed and muttered and called them by name.
On update! on add! on inquiry! on delete!
on batch jobs! on closing! on functions complete!
His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,
from weekends and nights in front of the screen.
A wink of his eye, and a twitch of his head,
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
turning spec's into code; then turned with a jerk;
And laying his finger upon the "ENTER" key,
the system came up and worked perfectly.
The updates updated, the deletes, they deleted;
the inquiries inquired, and closings completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell
with nary an abend, and all had gone well.
The system was finished, the tests were concluded.
the user's last changes were even included.
And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
"It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Dr. Diag:
=============
Note: Dr. Diag will attempt to answer questions on any subject, if he
can. If he can't, he'll make you feel stupid for asking. Send
your questions to "Dr. Diag" c/o Brent@Maine.BITNET.
>Dear Dr. Diag,
> I have a lot of trouble understanding the principle of Recursion.
>My final exam is next week! Can you help me?
> Signed, Shallow.
Dear Shallow,
Recursion is best explained by the following anecdote:
A theoretical mathemetician is suprised one day to find his desk on
fire. He runs to the extinguisher and douses the flames.
The next day he looks up from his book to see that his wastepaper
basket is on fire. Quickly he takes the basket and empties it onto his
desk which begins to burn.
Having thus reduced the problem to one he has already solved, he goes
back to his reading.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Owner's Manual
==================
CONGRATULATIONS ON BUYING YOUR NEW PULENBERE FRASHNED
READ THIS FIRST!
Congratulations! You have purchased an extremely fine device that would
give you thousands of years of trouble-free service, except that you
will undoubtly destroy it via some typical bonehead consumer maneuver.
Which is why we ask you to PLEASE FOR GOD'S SAKE READ THIS
OWNER'S MANUAL CAREFULLY BEFORE YOU UNPACK THE DEVICE. YOU ALREADY
UNPACKED IT, DIDN'T YOU? YOU UNPACKED IT AND PLUGGED IT IN AND TURNED
IT ON AND FIDDLED WITH THE KNOBS, AND NOW YOUR CHILD, THE SAME CHILD
WHO ONCE SHOVED A POLISH SAUSAGE INTO YOUR VIDEOCASSETTE RECORDER AND
SET IT ON "FAST FORWARD", THIS CHILD ALSO IS FIDDLING WITH THE KNOBS,
RIGHT? WE MIGHT AS WELL JUST BREAK THESE DEVICES RIGHT AT THE FACTORY
BEFORE WE SHIP THEM OUT, YOU KNOW THAT?
We're sorry. We just get a little crazy sometimes because we're always
getting back "defective" merchandise where it turns out that the
consumer inadvertently bathed the device in acid for six days. So, in
writing these instructions, we naturally tend to assume that your skull
is filled with dead insects, but we mean nothing by it. OK? Now let's
talk about:
1. UNPACKING THE DEVICE. The device is encased in foam to protect it
from the Shipping People, who like nothing more than to jab spears
into outgoing boxes. PLEASE INSPECT THE CONTENTS CAREFULLY FOR GASHES
OR IDA MAE BARKER'S ENGAGEMENT RING, WHICH SHE LOST LAST WEEK, AND
SHE THINKS MAYBE IT WAS WHILE SHE WAS PACKING DEVICES. Ida Mae really
wants that ring back, because it is her only proof of engagement, and
her fiancee, Stuart, is now seriously considering backing out on the
whole thing inasmuch as he had consumed most of a bottle of Jim Beam
in Quality Control when he decided to pop the question. You see, it is
not without irony that Ida Mae's last name is "Barker", if you get our
drift.
WARNING: DO NOT EVER AS LONG AS YOU LIVE THROW AWAY THE BOX OR ANY
OF THE PIECES OF STYROFOAM, EVEN THE LITTLE ONES SHAPED LIKE PEANUTS.
If you attempt to return the device to the store, and you are missing
one single peanut, the store personnel will laugh in the chilling
manner exhibited by Joseph Stalin just after he enslaved Eastern
Europe.
Besides the device, the box should contain:
* Eight little rectangular snippets of paper that say "WARNING"
* A little plastic packet containing four 5/17 inch pilfer grommets
and two club-ended 6/93 inch boxcar prawns.
YOU WILL NEED TO SUPPLY: a matrix wrench and 60,000 feet of tram cable.
IF ANYTHING IS DAMAGED OR MISSING: You IMMEDIATELY should turn to your
spouse and say "Margaret, you know why this country can't make a car
that can get all the way through the drive-through at Burger King without
a major transmission overhaul? Because nobody cares, that's why."
WARNING: This is assuming your spouse's name is Margaret.
2. PLUGGING IN THE DEVICE: The plug on this device represents the latest
thinking of the electrical industry's Plug Mutation Group, which, in a
continuing effort to prevent consumers from causing hazardous electrical
current to flow through their appliances, developed the Three-Pronged
Plug, then the Plug Where One Prong is Bigger Than the Other. Your
device is equipped with the revolutionary new Plug Whose Prongs Consist
of Six Small Religious Figurines Made of Chocolate.
DO NOT TRY TO PLUG IT IN!
Lay it gently on the floor near an outlet, but out of direct sunlight,
and clean it weekly with a damp handkerchief.
WARNING: WHEN YOU ARE LAYING THE PLUG ON THE FLOOR, DO NOT HOLD A SHARP
OBJECT IN YOUR OTHER HAND AND TRIP OVER THE CORD AND POKE YOUR EYE OUT,
AS THIS COULD VOID THE WARRANTY.
3. OPERATION OF THE DEVICE. WARNING: WE MANUFACTURE ONLY THE ATTRACTIVE
DESIGNER CASE. THE ACTUAL WORKING CENTRAL PARTS OF THE DEVICE ARE
MANUFACTURED IN JAPAN. THE INSTRUCTIONS WERE TRANSLATED BY MRS. SHIRLEY
PELTWATER OF ACCOUNTS RECEIVABLE, WHO HAS NEVER ACTUALLY BEEN TO JAPAN
BUT DOES HAVE MOST OF "SHOGUN" ON TAPE.
INSTRUCTIONS: For results that can be the finest, it is our advising that
NEVER to hold these buttons two times!! Except the battery. Next taking
the earth section may cause a large occurrence! However. If this is not
a trouble, such rotation is a very maintainance action, as a kindly small
virepoint from Drawing B.
4. WARRANTY: Be it hereby known that this device, together with but not
excluding all those certain parts thereunto, shall be warrantied against
all defects, failures and malfunctions as shall occur between now and
Thursday afternoon shortly before 2, during which time the Manufacturer
will, at no charge to the Owner, send the device to our Service People,
who will emerge from their caves and engage in rituals designed to
cleanse it of evil spirits. This warranty does not cover the attractive
designer case.
WARNING: IT MAY BE A VIOLATION OF SOME LAW THAT MRS. SHIRLEY PELTWATER
HAS "SHOGUN" ON TAPE.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bad Day
=======
From Howie Kaye <Ui.Kaye@CU20B>
Background:
User is having problems with unlabeled tape, consultant calls operator
to mount tape...
Consultant: Hello, this is the consultant. There are two tapes waiting
to be mounted on the DEC20 machine. Could you mount them?
Operator: No dis is nod dee consultan. You have to call down-
Consultant: No, this is the consultant, can you mount the tapes...
Operator: (still speaking) No dis is nod dee consultan. You have to
call uh...
Consultant: No- wait, *I* am the consultant. You are an Operator.
there are two tapes to be mounted on-
Operator: Ohhhhh *you* are de consultan (revelation). Wha do you want?
Consultant: There are two tapes to be mounted on CU20A.
Operator: Tapes on CU20A... ok. (click)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Argument
============
A doctor, an architect, and a computer scientist were arguing
about whose profession was the oldest. In the course of their
arguments, they got all the way back to the Garden of Eden, whereupon
the doctor said, "The medical profession is clearly the oldest, because
Eve was made from Adam's rib, as the story goes, and that was a simply
incredible surgical feat."
The architect did not agree. He said, "But if you look at the
Garden itself, in the beginning there was chaos and void, and out of
that, the Garden and the world were created. So God must have been an
architect."
The computer scientist, who had listened to all of this said,
"Yes, but where do you think the chaos came from?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
A very popular attraction at the traveling circus was Great Zambini
The Firewalker, who strolled barefoot across a pile of burning wood to
the wonderment of paying circus-goers. Some of the local boys who got
in to see Great Zambini, being woodsmen, immediately recognized him to
be a fraud because he was walking across pine branches. And any woods-
man worth his salt knows that pine branches don't burn very hot, they
just smoke a lot, so it would be entirely possible for Zambini to make
it across a pile of burning pine branches with no pain whatsoever.
Well, these fellows didn't like the idea of Zambini getting away with
such fraudulence, so, in the wee hours of the night, they sneeked into
the circus and doused the Zambini's pines with gasoline.
The next day, when Great Zambini did his morning show, he made it
about half way over the pile of burning wood when the gas ignited.
"Yowee!" screamed Great Zambini as his feet began to fry, and he
jumped from the pines to safe ground.
"Umm... Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, stomping his feet to get the
last of the flames out, "I'm afraid I won't be able to continue my
performance this morning. You see, these are not my pines! In fact,
'These are pines that fry men's soles.'"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Issue014, (Volume III, Number 2). December, 1986
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