Music And Band Jokes Collection 2

Jack and Jill went up the hill to smoke some marajuana. Jack got high, pulled down his fly, and asked, "Jill do you wanna?" Jill said yes, pulled up her dress,you know what happened next? Stupid Jill forgot the pill, then they had a son named Bill.

For the first bug of Christmas, my manager said to me See if they can do it again. For the second bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the third bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the fourth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the fifth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the sixth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the seventh bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the eighth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the ninth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the tenth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Change the documentation Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the eleventh bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Say it's not supported Change the documentation Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again. For the twelfth bug of Christmas, my manager said to me Tell them it's a feature Say it's not supported Change the documentation Blame it on the hardware Find a way around it Say they need an upgrade Reinstall the software Ask for a dump Run with the debugger Try to reproduce it Ask them how they did it and See if they can do it again.

On the first day of Christmas, a user gave to me A problem with E.T. On the second day of Christmas, a user gave to me Two VendaCards and a problem with E.T. On the third day of Christmas, a user gave to me Three dead disks, Two venda cards, and a problem with E.T. On the fourth day of Christmas, a user gave to me Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the fifth day of Christmas, a user gave to me Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the sixth day of Christmas, a user gave to me Six servers crashing, Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the seventh day of Christmas, a user gave to me Seven files missing, six servers crashing, Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the eighth day of Christmas, a user gave to me Eight phones a-ringing, Seven files missing, six servers crashing, Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the ninth day of Chrsitmas, a user gave to me Nine printers jamming, eight phones a-ringing, Seven files missing, six servers crashing, Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the tenth day of Christmas, a user gave to me Ten ribbons fading, Nine printers jamming, eight phones a-ringing, Seven files missing, six servers crashing, Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the eleventh day of Christmas, a user gave to me Eleven system errors, ten ribbons fading, Nine printers jamming, eight phones a-ringing, Seven files missing, six servers crashing, Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T. On the twelfth day of Christmas, a user gave to me Twelve e-mail problems, Eleven system errors, ten ribbons fading, Nine printers jamming, eight phones a-ringing, Seven files missing, six servers crashing, Five Token Rings (*snap!*) Four virused files, three dead disks, Two VendaCards, and a problem with E.T.

Abort, Retry, Ignore? Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary, 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 be one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore, Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"