How to be Annoying in the Computer Lab
• Log on, wait a sec, then get a frightened look on your face and scream, “Oh my God! They’ve found me!” and bolt.
• Laugh uncontrollably for about 3 minutes and then suddenly stop and look suspiciously at everyone who looks at you.
• When your computer is turned off, complain to the monitor on duty that you can’t get the darned thing to work.
• After he/she’s turned it on, wait 5 minutes, turn it off again, and repeat the process for a good half hour.
• Type frantically, often stopping to look at the person next to you evilly.
• Before anyone else is in the lab, connect each computer to a different screen than the one it’s set up with.
• Write a program that plays the “Pokemon” theme song and play it at the highest volume possible over and over again.
• Work normally for a while. Suddenly look amazingly startled by something on the screen and crawl underneath the desk.
• Ask the person next to you if they know how to tap into top-secret Pentagon files.
• Use AIM to make passes at people you don’t know.
• Make a small ritual sacrifice to the computer before you turn it on.
• Bring a chainsaw, but don’t use it. If anyone asks why you have it, say, “Just in case…” mysteriously.
• Type on VAX for awhile. Suddenly start cursing for 3 minutes about everything bad about your life. Then stop and continue typing.
• Enter the lab, undress, and start staring at other people as if they’re crazy while typing.
• Light candles in a pentagram around your terminal before starting.
• Ask around for a spare zip disk. Offer $1. Keep asking until someone agrees. Then, pull a disk out of your fly and say, “Oops. Forgot.”
• Every time you press return and there is processing time required, pray, “Ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease,” and scream “YES!” when it finishes.
• “Disk fight!”
• Start making out with the person at the terminal next to you, whether you know them or not.
• Put a straw in your mouth and put your hands in your pockets. Type by hitting the keys with the straw.
• If you’re sitting in a swivel chair, spin around singing “The Thong Song” whenever there is processing time required.
• Draw a picture of a woman (or man) on a piece of paper and tape it to your monitor. Try to seduce it. Act like it hates you and then complain loudly that women (men) are worthless.
• Try to stick a Nintendo cartridge in the disk drive. When it doesn’t work, get the supervisor.
• When you start up a PC, ask loudly where the smiling Apple face is.
• Print out the complete works of Shakespeare, then when it’s all done (two days later) say that all you wanted was a line or two.
• Sit and stare at the screen, chomping on your nails. After doing this for a while, spit them out at the feet of the person next to you.
• Stare at the screen, grind your teeth, stop, look at the person next to you. Repeat procedure, making sure you never provoke the person enough to let them blow up, as this releases tension, and it is • far more effective to let them linger.
• If you have long hair, take a typing break, look for split ends, cut them, and deposit them on your neighbor’s keyboard as you leave.
• Put a large, gold-framed portrait of the British royal family on your desk and loudly proclaim that it inspires you.
• Come to the lab wearing several layers of socks. Remove shoes and place them on top of the monitor. Remove socks layer by layer and drape them around the monitor. Exclaim sudden haiku about the aesthetic beauty of cotton on plastic.
• Take the keyboard and sit under the computer. Type up your paper like this. Then go to the lab supervisor and complain about the bad working conditions.
• Laugh hysterically, shout “You will all perish in a great flood” and continue working.
• Bring some dry ice and make it look like the computer is
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.
Computer Riddles
Why do programmers always get Christmas and Halloween mixed up? Because DEC 25 = OCT 31
Why don’t the British build computers? Because they can’t figure out how to make them leak oil!
What do you call a computer scientist? It doesn’t matter what you call him. He’s too involved with the computer to come anyway.
What do miniskirts and hard disks have in common? Access time.
What do Unix sysadmins do when they’re horny? Mount a filesystem.
Why is “256 Ways To Make Love” the most quoted book on the Internet? It’s in the Fucking Manual
Why do Computer Science majors smell so bad? So that blind students can hate them too. Computer Riddles Why do programmers always get Christmas and Halloween mixed up? Because DEC 25 = OCT 31
Why don’t the British build computers? Because they can’t figure out how to make them leak oil!
What do you call a computer scientist? It doesn’t matter what you call him. He’s too involved with the computer to come anyway.
What do miniskirts and hard disks have in common? Access time.
What do Unix sysadmins do when they’re horny? Mount a filesystem.
Why is “256 Ways To Make Love” the most quoted book on the Internet? It’s in the Fucking Manual
Why do Computer Science majors smell so bad? So that blind students can hate them too.
Computers
A blonde girl enters a store that sells curtains. She tells the salesman:
“I would like to buy a pink curtain in the size of my computerscreen.”
The surprised salesman replies: “But, madam, computers do not have curtains…. ”
And the blonde said: “Helloooo………….I’ve got Windows!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
What Gender is Your Computer
A language instructor was explaining to her class that French nouns, unlike their English counterparts, are grammatically designated as masculine or feminine. Things like ‘chalk’ or ‘pencil, ‘ she described, would have a gender association although in English these words were neutral. Puzzled, one student raised his hand and asked, ‘What gender is a computer?’
The teacher wasn’t certain which it was, and so divided the class into two groups and asked them to decide if a computer should be masculine or feminine. One group was made up of the women in the class, and the other, of men. Both groups were asked to give four reasons for their recommendation.
The group of women concluded that computers should be referred to in the masculine gender because:
1. In order to get their attention, you have to turn them on.
2. They have a lot of data but are still clueless.
3. They are supposed to help you solve your problems, but half the time they ARE the problem.
4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that, if you had waited a little longer, you might have had a better model.
The men, on the other hand, decided that computers should definitely be referred to in the feminine gender because:
1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic.
2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else.
3. Even your smallest mistakes are stored in long-term memory for later retrieval.
4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.
