DR. SUESS ON PCS

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 you 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 risk, 
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.

Copyright © Gene Ziegler

Email: Gene_Ziegler@Cornell.edu

In the Garden of Eden lay Adam,
Complacently stroking his madam,
And loud was his mirth
For on all of the earth
There were only two balls---and he had 'em.

               A team playing baseball in Dallas 
               Called the umpire a shit out of malice. 
                    While this worthy had fits 
                    The team made eight hits 
               And a girl in the bleachers named Alice. 

                                  Boot It
                                      
                          (to the tune of Beat It)
     
   
    You're processing some words when your keyboard goes dead,
    Ten pages in the buffer, should have gone to bed,
    The system just crashed, but don't lose your head,
    Just BOOT IT, just BOOT IT.

    Better think fast, better do what you can,
    Read the manual or call your system man,
    Don't want to fall behind in the race with Japan,
    So BOOT IT,

    Get the system manager to
    BOOT IT,     BOOT IT,
    Even though you'd rather shoot it.
    Don't be upset, it's only some glitch.
    All that you do is flip a little switch.
    BOOT IT,     BOOT IT,
    Get right down and restitute it.
    Don't get excited, all is not lost.
    CP/M, UNIX or MS/DOS
    Just BOOT IT, boot it, boot it, boot it...

    You gotta have your printout for the meeting at two,
    The system says your jobs at the head of the queue,
    Right then the thing dies but you know what to do,
    BOOT IT.

    You always get so worried when the system runs slow,
    And when it finally crashes, man you feel so low,
    But computers make mistakes (they're only human you know)
    So BOOT IT,

    Call the local guru to
    BOOT IT,     BOOT IT,
    Go ahead re-institute it.
    If you're not lucky, get the book off the shelf,
    But if you are, it'll do it itself.
    BOOT IT,     BOOT IT,
    Then go find the guy who screwed it!
    Operating systems are built to bounce back,
    Whether it's a Cray or a Radio Shack.

    BOOT IT!     BOOT IT!
  

Twas the night before christmas and all through the house,

everybody was stoned, even a mouse.

The stockings were stuffed with pretzels and beer,

and a big rubber dick for my brother the queer.

The children were wrestling quietly in bed,

with sexy visions of masterbating in their heads.

All of sudden there came such a clatter,

I jumped off my wife's back to see what was the matter.

He came down the chimney like a bat out of hell, 

from the sound of the crash i knew the fat motherfucker fell.

He snapped to his feet in a sudden flash,

he forgot to cover the crack of his ass.

He showed me the bird from his stubby little hands,

then he whipped out his box of sex toys and giant rubber bands.

All were thrown on the Tree at the same time,

He jumped with the fucking clock chimed.

He flew up the chimney just as fast as he came down,

I could tell he was some kind of professional clown.

He whipped dasher, dancer, and prancer, and vixon,

He kicked comit, cupid, donder and blitzen.

He shrieked loudly into the pale midnight,

Piss on all of you, and have a hell of a night!


Sent by Rob