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.
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
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.
Three men - an American, a Japanese and an Irishman - were sitting naked in a sauna.
Suddenly there was a beeping sound. The American pressed his forearm and the beep stopped. The others looked at him questioningly.
"That was my pager," he said. "I have a microchip under the skin of my arm."
A few minutes later a phone rang.
The Japanese fellow lifted his palm to his ear. When he finished, he explained, "That was my mobile phone. I have a microchip in my hand."
The Irishman felt decidedly low tech and, not wanting to be outdone, he decided he had to do something just as impressive. He stepped out of the sauna and went to the bathroom. He returned with a piece of toilet paper hanging from his behind.
The others raised their eyebrows and stared at him in bewilderment.
"It appears that you've got a bit a of a stuck paper problem there," pointed the amused American.
"Well, of course." The Irishman was quick to respond. "I must be getting a fax."