161 lines
4.1 KiB
Plaintext
161 lines
4.1 KiB
Plaintext
A UNIX saleslady, Lenore,
|
||
Enjoys work, but she likes the beach more.
|
||
She found a good way
|
||
To combine work and play:
|
||
She sells C shells by the seashore.
|
||
%
|
||
A computer, to print out a fact,
|
||
Will divide, multiply, and subtract.
|
||
But this output can be
|
||
No more than debris,
|
||
If the input was short of exact.
|
||
-- Gigo
|
||
%
|
||
A crusader's wife slipped from the garrison
|
||
And had an affair with a Saracen.
|
||
She was not oversexed,
|
||
Or jealous or vexed,
|
||
She just wanted to make a comparison.
|
||
%
|
||
A dozen, a gross, and a score,
|
||
Plus three times the square root of four,
|
||
Divided by seven,
|
||
Plus five times eleven,
|
||
Equals nine squared plus zero, no more.
|
||
%
|
||
A dreary young bank clerk named Fennis
|
||
Wished to foster an aura of menace;
|
||
To make people afraid
|
||
He wore gloves of grey suede
|
||
And white footgear intended for tennis.
|
||
-- Edward Gorey
|
||
%
|
||
A hacker who screwed a mag tape
|
||
Was caught and convicted of rape.
|
||
To jail he did go,
|
||
From which, to his woe
|
||
He couldn't get out with ESC.
|
||
%
|
||
A limerick packs laughs anatomical
|
||
Into space that is quite economical.
|
||
But the good ones I've seen
|
||
So seldom are clean,
|
||
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.
|
||
%
|
||
A linguist thought it a farce
|
||
That memory space was so sparse.
|
||
One day they increased it.
|
||
Said he as he seized it:
|
||
"At last! Enough core for the parse".
|
||
%
|
||
A new dramatist of the absurd
|
||
Has a voice that will shortly be heard.
|
||
I learn from my spies
|
||
He's about to devise
|
||
An unprintable three-letter word.
|
||
%
|
||
A progressive professor named Winners
|
||
Held classes each evening for sinners.
|
||
They were graded and spaced
|
||
So the vile and debased
|
||
Would not be held back by beginners.
|
||
%
|
||
A very intelligent turtle
|
||
Found programming UNIX a hurdle
|
||
The system, you see,
|
||
Ran as slow as did he,
|
||
And that's not saying much for the turtle.
|
||
%
|
||
A wonderful bird is the pelican.
|
||
His mouth can hold more than his belican.
|
||
He can take in his beak
|
||
Enough food for a week.
|
||
And I'm darned if I know how the helican.
|
||
%
|
||
Despising machines to a man,
|
||
The Luddites joined up with the Klan,
|
||
And ride out by night
|
||
In a sheeting of white
|
||
To lynch all the robots they can.
|
||
-- C. M. and G. A. Maxson
|
||
%
|
||
Flappity, floppity, flip
|
||
The mouse on the m"obius strip;
|
||
The strip revolved,
|
||
The mouse dissolved
|
||
In a chronodimensional skip.
|
||
%
|
||
If you stick a stock of liquor in your locker,
|
||
It is slick to stick a lock upon your stock.
|
||
Or some joker who is slicker,
|
||
Will trick you of your liquor,
|
||
If you fail to lock your liquor with a lock.
|
||
%
|
||
Limericks are art forms complex,
|
||
Their topics run chiefly to sex.
|
||
They usually have virgins,
|
||
And masculine urgin's,
|
||
And other erotic effects.
|
||
%
|
||
System/3! System/3!
|
||
See how it runs! See how it runs!
|
||
Its monitor loses so totally!
|
||
It runs all its programs in RPG!
|
||
It's made by our favorite monopoly!
|
||
System/3!
|
||
%
|
||
There once was a girl named Irene
|
||
Who lived on distilled kerosene
|
||
But she started absorbin'
|
||
A new hydrocarbon
|
||
And since then has never benzene.
|
||
%
|
||
There once was a member of Mensa
|
||
Who was a most excellent fencer.
|
||
The sword that he used
|
||
Was his -- (line is refused,
|
||
And has now been removed by the censor).
|
||
%
|
||
There once was an old man from Esser,
|
||
Who's knowledge grew lesser and lesser.
|
||
It at last grew so small,
|
||
He knew nothing at all,
|
||
And now he's a College Professor.
|
||
%
|
||
There was a young lady from Hyde
|
||
Who ate a green apple and died.
|
||
While her lover lamented
|
||
The apple fermented
|
||
And made cider inside her inside.
|
||
%
|
||
There was a young lady from Niger
|
||
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger;
|
||
They returned from the ride
|
||
With the lady inside,
|
||
And the smile on the face of the tiger.
|
||
%
|
||
There was a young man who said "God,
|
||
I find it exceedingly odd,
|
||
That the willow oak tree
|
||
Continues to be,
|
||
When there's no one about in the Quad."
|
||
|
||
"Dear Sir, your astonishment's odd,
|
||
For I'm always about in the Quad;
|
||
And that's why the tree,
|
||
Continues to be,"
|
||
Signed "Yours faithfully, God."
|
||
%
|
||
There was a young poet named Dan,
|
||
Whose poetry never would scan.
|
||
When told this was so,
|
||
He said, "Yes, I know.
|
||
It's because I try to put every possible syllable into that last line that I can."
|
||
%
|
||
A computer called Illiac4
|
||
Had a rather tough bug in its core.
|
||
It chewed up its cards
|
||
And spewed yards and yards
|
||
Of illegible tape on the floor.
|
||
%
|