Dr. Seuss as Technical Writer
Dr. Seuss as Technical Writer
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
Quickly turn off the computer and be sure to tell your mom!
It’s wise to remember how easily email can be misused, sometimes unintentionally, with serious consequences. Consider the case of the Illinois man who left the snow-filled streets of Chicago for a vacation in Florida. His wife was on a business trip and was planning to meet him there the next day. When he reached his hotel, he decided to send his wife a quick email.
Unfortunately, when typing her address, he missed one letter, and his note was directed instead to an elderly preacher’s wife whose husband had passed away only the day before. When the grieving widow checked her email, she took one look at the monitor, let out a piercing scream, and fell to the floor in a dead faint.
At the sound, her family rushed into the room and saw this note on the screen:
Dearest Wife, Just got checked in. Everything prepared for your arrival tomorrow.
P.S. Sure is hot down here.
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.