Signs Your Co-Worker Is a Hacker
– Everyone who ticks him or her off gets a $26,000 phone bill.
– Has won the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes three years running.
– When asked for their phone number, they give it in hex.
– Seems strangely calm whenever the office LAN goes down.
– Somehow gets HBO on their PC at work.
– Mumbled, “Oh, puh-leeeez!” 295 times during the movie “The Net.”
– Massive 401k contribution made in half-cent increments.
– Their video dating profile lists “public-key encryption” among turn-ons.
– Instead of the “Welcome” voice on AOL, you overhear, “Good Morning, Mr./Ms. President.”
– You hear them murmur, “Let’s see you use that VISA card now, Professor “I-Don’t-Give-A’s-In-Computer-Science!”
Not long enough!
A woman is helping her computer illiterate husband set up his computer. She instructs him to choose and enter a password he wants to use, when logging on.
The husband, in a rather amorous mood, figures he will try for a shock effect to bring his mood to his wife’s attention. So when the computer asks him to enter his password, he makes it plainly obvious to his wife that he is keying in the word, “PENIS”.
His wife nearly falls off the he chair from laughing so hard, when the computer replies:
**PASSWORD REJECTED. NOT LONG ENOUGH. ***
We Can Fix It
A computer engineer, a systems analyst, and a programmer are driving down a mountain road when the brakes fail. They scream down the mountain gaining speed every second and screeching around corners. Finally they manage to stop, more by luck than by judgment, mere inches from a thousand-foot drop to the jagged rocks on the valley floor. More than slightly shaken, they emerge from the car.
“I think I can fix it,” says the computer engineer.
The systems analyst says, “No, I think we should take it into town and have a specialist examine it.”
The programmer holds his chin between thumb and forefinger and says, “Okay, but first I think we ought to get back in and see if it does it again.”
If Your City Was Like AOL
You’d live in a place where no two people had the same name, and all were hot 17/f cheerleaders with a fetish for pierced gay Dobermans in spandex.
You’d only pay $19.95 a month to live there, but half the time you tried to leave your house, the door would be stuck.
Once you got outside, even if you were in a hurry, you’d be assaulted by slimy little door-to-door salescreeps offering you great AOL 14.4 modems for only $399.99
The commute to work is just a double-click away, but every time you try to leave your driveway, the flow of traffic knocks you back into your yard.
48 hours after moving in, your mailbox would be overflowing with special offers, promotions and discounts from www.getlaid.com
The local post office would tell your mother you’re not a known resident.
The local post office wouldn’t forward your mail to you when you move.
The administration would kick you out of town for cursing after one of those brutal toe stubs.
If you saw a crime and called 911, they’d reply a week later with a form letter saying how you “really are important to us.”
The administration would tell your boss to either pay up, or move his slack-ass company somewhere else.
Everyone on the street would have something to do with kiddy porn, and this business would account for 75% of all city revenue.
Every time you went to the mall, people would run up to you and violently scream M/F??!!, AGE/SEX?!?! Or g0t PH1SH d3wd?!11 while little kids called your cell phone saying “Wanna SCREW?”
Those that didn’t do that would call you and say “Hi, I’m j0e hax0r from the town council. We had a database crash and lost your tax records. Please give us your address and the key to your house or we will be forced to evict you and your family.”
Every time you went shopping, you’d be kicked out of the store by a bouncer screaming “WE’RE SORRY, THIS STORE IS TEMPORARILY UNAVAILABLE.”
Whenever you traveled to other cities, people would see your license tag and laugh behind your back.
Even your 3 year old son would know the intimate personal details of the town security expert.
You’d occasionally be sent home during the day by another bouncer telling you that the city has performed an illegal operation, but that it’s really the Earth’s fault.
The local McDonalds sign would be realistically changed to “McHax0r Wuz H3r3” and “Gr33tz 2 K}It0sawruz” almost daily. Police don’t investigate, but do show up with little scrubby tools, or just remove the sign altogether.
Half the kids in the daycare you use are thinly disguised, fat, hairy, drooling, diapered men holding sacks of candy.
Your daughter would disappear to the No-Tell Motel every night, and you’d foot the bill.
Putting up controversial art in your home would result in the police bashing in your door, throwing your ass on the floor, and kicking the crap out of you while saying “Ya got two chances left, dickface. ROFLMAO LOL!!”
You’d send your kids to school for history, math, and science, but they’d wind up studying ph1shing, one-handed typing, and annoying acronyms.
You’d not have any idea who your neighbors are, and most new arrivals would move in at night, stuff everyone’s mailbox with crap, and vacate before sun-up.
The administration would secretly sell off chunks of their personal land in the city, while buying up neighboring cities with imaginary funds.
The administration would build a huge, state- of- the- art park, and allow the kids to play there free, then suddenly demand money while ripping down the swings and beating the kids currently playing there.
Don’t forget the AOL playground, which is locked so that the kiddies can not get out “for safety reasons,” and then hordes of perverts & pedophiles are allowed in.
The police would work for free out of some sort of “duty” to the city, but would secretly only be doing it for the free food stamps.
Upon waking every morning, a voice from above would shout, “HEY! YOU DO WANT A GODDAMN AOL VISA, DON’T YOU?” To which you say “no.” The voice then replies, “OK, I’LL ASK YOU TOMMOROW.”
A trip to the local library would find you a few ancient doom 2 patches, commercial pix of Pamela Anderson Lee, and a viral copy of PkZip 2.04g
Community events would be periodically interrupted because of the speaker randomly flying out of the meeting hall and appearing several minutes later with some stupid comment about a Punt Monster.
Your neighbors would be called to leave on pilgrimages to a mystical land called USENET, where they would bleat the virtues of your fair city.
Somewhere in another city, David Cassel would be sitting with a telescope trained on City Hall, smiling contentedly.
Why E-Mail is Like a Penis
Those who have it would be devastated if it was ever cut off.
Those who have it think that those who don’t are somehow inferior.
Those who don’t have it may agree that it’s neat, but think it’s not worth the fuss that those who have it make about it.
Many of those who don’t have it would like to try it, a phenomenon psychologists call “E-Mail Envy.”
It’s more fun when it’s up, but this makes it hard to get any real work done.
In the distant past, its only purpose was to transmit information vital to the survival of the species.
Some people still think that’s the only thing it should be used for, but most folks today use it mostly for fun.
If you don’t take proper precautions, it can spread viruses.
If you use it too much, you’ll find it becomes more and more difficult to think coherently.
We attach an importance to it that is far greater than its actual size and influence warrant.
If you’re not careful what you do with it, it can get you into a lot of trouble.
If you play with it too much, you could go blind.