Here is how you make that Scottish delicacy, the deep fried Mars bar:-
The first word spoken on the moon was "okay". (Or not - see comments). Seoul, the South Korean capital, just means "the ca...
'Twas the night before finals,
And all through the college,
The students were praying
For last minute knowledge.
Most were quite sleepy,
But none touched their beds,
While visions of essays
Danced in their heads.
Out in the taverns,
A few were still drinking,
And hoping that liquor
Would get their brains thinking.
Shut in my apartment,
I was fretting and pacing,
That I soon would be facing.
My roommate was speechless,
His nose in his books,
And my comments to him
Drew unfriendly looks.
I drained all the coffee,
And brewed a new pot,
No longer caring
That my nerves were shot.
I stared at my notes,
But my thoughts were all muddy,
My eyes went a'blur,
I just couldn't study.
"Some pizza might help,"
I said with a shiver,
But each place I called
Refused to deliver.
I'd pretty much figured,
Life's unfair and cruel,
Since our futures depend
On grades made in school.
When all of a sudden,
The door opened wide,
And Patron Saint "Put-It-Off"
Her spirit was careless,
Her manner was mellow,
She looked at the mess
And started to bellow:
"Why should us students
Make such a fuss,
About what those teachers
Try to teach us?"
"On Cliff Notes! On Crib Notes!
On Last Year's Exams!
On Wingit and Slingit,
And Last Minute Crams!"
Her message delivered,
She vanished from sight,
But we all heard her laughing
Outside in the night.
"Your teachers won't flunk you,
So just do your best.
Happy Finals to All,
And to All, a good test."
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer,
I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.
Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
A pick up line is something someone says in the hope of forming an acquaintance with someone else, usually in anticipation of sexual relations.
A put down is something you say that's disparaging, belittling, or snubbing. The French have a phrase for it - l'Esprit d'escalier - 'the spirit that passes on the staircase'.
Here are some of the best put downs to some common pick up lines:-
He - Can I buy you a drink?
She - Actually I'd rather have the money.
He - Hi. Didn't we go on a date once? Or was it twice?
She - Must've been once. I never make the same mistake twice.
He - How did you get to be so beautiful?
She - I must have been given your share.
He - Your face must turn a few heads.
She - And your face must turn a few stomachs.
He - Go on, don't be shy. Ask me out.
She - Okay, get out.
He - What would you say if I asked you to marry me?
She - Nothing. I can't talk and laugh at the same time.
He - Can I have your name?
She - Why? Don't you already have one?
He - Hey baby, what's your sign?
She - Do not enter.
He - If I could see you naked, I'd die happy.
She - If I saw you naked, I'd probably die laughing.
He - Where have you been all my life?
She - Where I'll be the rest of your life - in your wildest dreams.
1. We are born naked, wet and hungry. Then things get worse.
2. 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.
3. Be nice to your kids. They'll choose your nursing home.
4. If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried.
5. I wonder how much deeper the ocean would be without sponges.
6. Eat right. Stay fit. Die anyway.
7. My mind is like a steel trap, rusty and illegal in 37 states.
8. Nothing is fool proof to a sufficiently talented fool.
9. On the other hand, you have different fingers.
10. I've only been wrong once, and that's when I thought I was wrong.