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17. "Totally Gone With The Wind"
16. "Lift and Separate"
15. "Boys on the Side -- Of My Barn"
14. "Summer Film So Full of Special Effects We Couldn't
Fit in the Plot"
13. "The Weather Channel: The Movie"
12. "Schindler's Twist"
11. "Field of Debris"
10. "Dead Man Flying"
9. "I, Cumulus"
8. "One House Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest"
7. "The Splintered Bridges of Madison County"
6. "Wizard of Oz II: The Search For Toto"
5. "Killer Genuine Draft"
4. "Four Weddings & A Funnel"
3. "Indiana Jones and the Trailer Park of Doom"
2. "A Funnel Thing Happened On The Way To The Farm" and
the
Number 1 Rejected Title for the Movie "Twister"......
1. "Roofless in Seattle"
A Russian, a Cuban, an American and a lawyer
are in a train.
The Russian takes a bootle of the best Russian Vodka out of his
pack. He pours some into a glass, sips it lovingly, and says: "In
Russia, we have the best vodka of the world. Nowhere in the world
you can find Vodka as good as the one we produce in Ukraine. And
we have so much of it, that we can just throw it away!" Upon saying
this, he opens the window and throws the rest of the bottle out
the window. The other three are quite impressed.
The Cuban takes a box of Havana cigars, takes one of them, lights
it and begins to smoke it, saying: "In Cuba, we have the best cigars
in the world: Havanas. Nowhere in the world are there so many and
such good cigars and we have so many of them, that we can just throw
THEM away!".
Saying that, he throws the box of Havanas out the window. Once
again, everybody is quite impressed.
At this time, the American just stands up, opens the window, and
throws the lawyer through it...
IRS letter:
-Editor's Note: Sometimes a story comes to our attention that
needs no
polishing or enhancement to make it a good Block tax story. This
is one of those. It is a real letter submitted to the IRS in the
midst of last year's weird and bizarre denial of dependents, exemptions,
and credits. We believe the letter speaks for itself.
Dear Sirs:
I am responding to your letter denying the deduction for two of
the three dependents I claimed on my 1994 Federal Tax return. Thank
you. I have questioned whether these are my children or not for
years. They are evil and expensive.
It's only fair that since they are minors and not my responsibility
that the government (who evidently is taxing me more to care for
these waifs) knows something about them and what to expect over
the next year. You may apply next year to reassign them to me and
reinstate the deduction.
This year they are yours!
The oldest, Kristen, is now 17. She is brilliant. Ask her! I suggest
you put her to work in your office where she can answer people's
questions about their returns. While she has no formal training,
it has not seemed to hamper her knowledge of any other subject you
can name.
Taxes should be a breeze; Next year she is going to college. I
think it's wonderful that you will now be responsible for that little
expense. While you mull that over keep in mind that she has a truck.
It doesn't run at the moment so you have the immediate decision
of appropriating some Department of Defense funds to fix the vehicle
or getting up early to drive her to school.
Kristen also has a boyfriend. Oh joy. While she possesses all
of the wisdom of the universe, her alleged mother and I have felt
it best to occasionally remind her of the virtues of abstinence,
and in the face of overwhelming passion, safe sex. This is always
uncomfortable and I am quite relieved you will be handling this
in the future. May I suggest that you reinstate Joycelyn Elders,
who had a rather good handle on the problem.
Patrick is 14. I've had my suspicions about this one. His eyes
are a little close together for normal people. He may be a tax examiner
himself one day if you do not incarcerate him first. In February
I was awakened at three in the morning by a police officer who was
bringing Pat home. He and his friends were TP'ing houses. In the
future would you like him delivered to the local IRS office or to
Ogden, UT? Kids at 14 will do almost anything on a dare. His hair
is purple. Permanent dye, temporary dye, what's the big deal? Learn
to deal with it.
You'll have plenty of time as he is sitting out a few days of
school after instigating a food fight. I'll take care of filing
your phone number with the vice principal. Oh yes, he and all of
his friends have raging hormones. This is the house of testosterone
and it will be much more peaceful when he lives in your home. DO
NOT leave any of them unsupervised with girls,explosives, inflammables,
inflatables, vehicles, or telephones. (I'm sure that you will find
telephones a source of unimaginable amusement, and be sure to lock
out the 900 and 976 numbers!)
Heather is an alien. She slid through a time warp and appeared
quite by magic one year. I'm sure this one is yours. She is 10 going
on 21. She came from a bad trip in the sixties. She wears tie-dyed
clothes, beads, sandals, and hair that looks like Tiny Tim's. Fortunately
you will be raising my taxes to help offset the pinch of her remedial
reading courses. Hooked On Phonics is expensive so the schools dropped
it. Good news! You can buy it yourself for half the amount of the
deduction that you are denying!
It's quite obvious that we were terrible parents (ask the other
two) so they have helped raise this one to a new level of terror.
She cannot speak English. Most people under twenty understand the
curious patois she fashioned out of valley girls/boys in the hood/reggae/yuppie/political
doublespeak. I don't. The school sends her to a speech pathologist
who has her roll her R's. It added a refreshing Mexican/Irish touch
to her voice.
She wears hats backwards, pants baggy and wants one of her ears
pierced four more times. There is a fascination with tattoos that
worries me but I am sure that you can handle it. Bring a truck when
you come to get her, as she sort of "nests" in her room and I think
that it would be easier to move the entire thing than find out what
it is really made of.
You denied two of the three exemptions so it is only fair you
get to pick which two you will take. I prefer that you take the
youngest, I still go bankrupt with Kristen's college but then I
am free! If you take the two oldest then I still have time for counseling
before Heather becomes a teenager. If you take the two girls then
I won't feel so bad about putting Patrick in a military academy.
Please let me know of your decision as soon as possible as I have
already increased the withholding on my W-4 to cover the $395 in
additional tax and to make a down payment on an airplane.
Yours Truly,
Bob
Note: The taxpayer in question added this caveat at a later date:
"Rats, they sent me the refund and allowed the deductions."
By Joel Garreau, as reported in his Cybersurfing column in the
Washington Post.
QUESTION: Where do the characters go when I use my backspace or
delete them on my PC?
ANSWER: The characters go to different places, depending on whom
you
ask:
* The Catholic Church's approach to characters: The nice characters
go to Heaven, where they are bathed in the light of happiness. The
naughty characters are punished for their sins. Naughty characters
are those involved in the creation of naughty words, such as "breast,"
"sex" and "contraception."
* The Buddhist explanation: If a character has lived rightly,
and its karma is good, then after it has been deleted it will be
reincarnated as a different, higher character. Those funny characters
above the numbers on your keyboard will become numbers, numbers
will become letters, and lower-case letters will become upper-case.
* The 20th-century bitter cynical nihilist explanation: Who cares?
It doesn't really matter if they're on the page, deleted, undeleted,underlined,
etc. It's all the same.
* The Mac user's explanation: All the characters written on a
PC and then deleted go to straight to PC hell. If you're using a
PC, you can probably see the deleted characters, because you're
in PC hell also.
* Stephen King's explanation: Every time you hit the (Del) key,
you unleash a tiny monster inside the cursor, who tears the poor
unsuspecting characters to shreds, drinks their blood, then eats
them, bones and all. Hah, hah, hah!
* Dave Barry's explanation: The deleted characters are shipped
to Battle Creek, Michigan, where they're made into Pop-Tart filling;
this explains why Pop-Tarts are so flammable, while cheap imitations
are not flammable. I'm not making this up.
* IBM's explanation: The characters are not real. They exist only
on the screen when they are needed, as concepts, so to delete them
is merely to de-conceptualize them. Get a life.
* PETA's (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) explanation:
You've been DELETING them??? Can't you hear them SCREAMING???
Why don't you go CLUB some BABY SEALS while wearing a MINK, you
pig!!!!
Reason #173 to
fear technology:
Mr. Ascii does the Macarena.
o o o o o o <o <o>
^|\ ^|^ v|^ v|v |/v |X| \| |
/\ >\ /< >\ /< >\ /< >\
o> o> o o o o o
\ \ x </ <|> </> <\>
/< /< >\ /< >\ /< >\
The local
bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man around
that they offered a standing $1000 bet.
The bartender would squeeze a lemon until all the juice
ran into a glass, and hand the lemon to a patron. Anyone who could
squeeze one more drop of juice out would win the money.
Many people had tried over time (weight-lifters, longshoremen,
etc.) but nobody could do it.
One day this scrawny little man came into the bar,
wearing thick glasses and a polyester suit, and said in a tiny squeaky
voice "I'd like to try the bet."
After the laughter had died down, the bartender said
OK, grabbed a lemon, and squeezed away. Then he handed the wrinkled
remains of the rind to the little man.
But the crowd's laughter turned to total silence as
the man clenched his fist around the lemon and six drops fell into
the glass.
As the crowd cheered, the bartender paid the $1000,
and asked the little man, "What do you do for a living? Are you
a lumberjack, a weight-lifter, what?"
The man replied, "I work for the IRS."
WHAT IF
DR. SEUSS WROTE TECH. MANUALS?
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 icons put your window in the
trash,
And the data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't
hash,
Then your situation's hopeless, and your system's gonna
crash!
If the label on your cable on the gable on your house,
Says the network is connected to the button on your
mouse,
But your packets want to tunnel to 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 suckers 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 your computer and be sure to tell
your Mom.
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