A language teacher was explaining to her class that in French, nouns unlike their English counterparts, are grammatically designated as masculine or feminine. '"House" in French, is feminine - "la maison", while "pencil" in French is masculine - "le crayon."' One puzzled student asked, "What gender is a computer?" The teacher thought it would be a good exercise to have the students decide what they thought the gender should be. So she split the class into two groups appropriately enough, by gender and asked them to decide whether "computer" should be a masculine or a feminine noun. The men's group decided that computer should definitely be of the feminine gender ("la computer"), 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 the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later review. 4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you constantly find yourself spending more money on accessories for it. The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be masculine "le computer") because: 1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on. 2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves. 3. They are supposed to help you solve 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 could have gotten a better model!

One day, a Mechanical Engineer, Electrical Engineer, Chemical Engineer and Computer Engineer were driving down the street in the same car. All of a sudden, the car broke down. The Mechanical Engineer said, "I think a rod broke." The Chemical Engineer said, "The way it sputtered at the end, I don't think it's getting gas." The Electrical Engineer said, "I think there was a spark and something is wrong with the electrical system." All three turned to the computer engineer and said, "What do you think?" The Computer Engineer said, "I think we should all get out and get back in."

The First Text Message: 'Dear John, this is Alan next door. I am sorry buddy, but I have a confession to make to you. I've been riddled with guilt these past few months and have been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you to your face, but I am at least now telling you in text as I can’t live with myself a moment longer without you knowing. The truth is, I have been sharing your wife, day and night when you're not around. In fact, probably more than you. I haven’t been getting it at home recently, but that's no excuse I know. The temptation was just too much. I can no longer live with the guilt and I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies and forgive me. I promise that it won't happen again. Please come up with a fee for usage, and I'll pay you. Regards, Alan.' The Response: John, feeling insulted and betrayed, grabbed his gun, stomped next door and shot his neighbor dead. He returned home, poured himself a stiff drink and went out into the garden for some fresh air. He took out his phone where he saw he had a subsequent message from his neighbor. The Second Text Message: 'Hi John, This is Alan next door again. Sorry about the slight typo on my last text. I expect you worked it out anyway, but as I’m sure you noticed that my smart phone’s Autocorrect feature changed “Wi-Fi” to ˜Wife”. Technology hey?? Hope you saw the funny side of that. Regards, Alan.'

I am trying to make friends outside of Facebook while applying the same principles. Therefore, every day I walk down the street and tell passers-by what I have eaten, how I feel at the moment, what I had done the night before, what I will do later and with whom. I give them pictures of my family, my dog and of me gardening, taking things apart in the garage, watering the lawn, standing in front of landmarks, driving around town, having lunch and doing what anybody and everybody does everyday. I also listen to their conversations, give them the "thumbs up" and tell them I like them. And it works just like Facebook! I already have four people following me: Two police officers, a private investigator, and a psychiatrist.

A lady helps her husband to set up a new laptop. Once it is completed, she tells him to select a password, selecting a word that he'll always remember. As the computer asks him to enter it, he looks at his wife and with a macho gesture and a wink in his eye, he types "mypenis". As he hits "enter" to validate the selection, his wife collapses with laughter and rolls on the floor in hysterics. The laptop had replied: TOO SHORT - ACCESS DENIED!

Today I opened a new email account, I always use the same password: "cabbage". It's easy to remember. But it seems the computer had other plans... Please enter your new password: "cabbage" Sorry, the password must be more than 8 characters. "boiled cabbage" Sorry, the password must contain 1 numerical character. "1 boiled cabbage" Sorry, the password cannot have blank spaces. "50bloodyboiledcabbages" Sorry, the password must contain at least one upper case character. "50BLOODYboiledcabbages" Sorry, the password cannot use more than one upper case character consecutively. "50BloodyBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArse,IfYouDon'tGiveMeAccessnow” Sorry, the password cannot contain punctuation. “ReallyPissedOff50BloodyBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArseIfYouDontGiveMeAccessnow” Sorry, that password is already in use!

A lady was standing on a street corner waiting for a bus when she happened to notice a weight machine. She fumbled through her purse for a dime, and went over to the machine to insert the coin. Out came a card that said: "You weigh 126 pounds, and in 30 seconds you will pass gas". Sure enough, after 30 seconds, she broke wind. Astonished that the machine was correct, she found another dime and returned to the weight machine. After inserting the coin, out popped another card that read: "you still weigh 126 pounds and in 30 seconds, a really hot guy will show up and show interest in you." After another 30 seconds, a muscular blonde, blue-eyed guy emerged out of a nearby alley and beckoned her to go over to him. Seeing as her love life had been quiet for a while, she obliged. Once she was done being the center of attention, she fumbled through her purse and found another dime. Feeling like a supermodel closing the Versace show at Paris Fashion Week, she shimmied over to the machine and put it in. Again, a little card popped out that said: "You still weigh 126 pounds, and while you were farting and fooling around, you missed your bus."