They think that I should cook and clean.
And be a model wife
I tell them its more interesting
To know of grandpa's life.
They simply will not understand
Why I never go to bed...
I'm busy living my own life,
And two hundred other years instead.
Why waste the time we have on earth
Snoring and asleep?
When we can fight off Indians and
sail upon the deep?
We've preachers and lawmen,
Soldiers, more than a few...
And yes, a few old scoundrels
And a bootlegger or two.
How can a person find this life
An awful drudge or bore?
When they can live the lives of all
Those kinfolks who came before?
A hundred years from now
And no one will ever know
Whether I did the laundry...
But they'll see our Tree and glow...
Knowing their dear old granny
Left for prosperity
Not clean hankies and weeded flower beds
But a completed Family Tree!
So let the bills go unpaid,
I've better things to do...
And forgetting will make the records
And provide a descendent with a clue,
To the way their old great great granny
Grasped the branches with glee
And let the bills go hang
while she hung upon the Tree!
|*||You wake up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom and stop to check your e-mail on your way back to bed.|
|*||You get a tatoo that reads: "This body best viewed with Netscape Navigator 2.0 or higher."|
|*||You name your children Eudora, Mozillia, and Dotcom.|
|*||You spend half of the plane trip with your laptop on your lap, and your child in the overhead compartment.|
|*||You decide to stay in college for an additional year or two, just for the free internet access.|
|*||You start using smileys in your snail mail.|
|*||Your hard drive crashes. You haven't logged in for two hours. You start to twitch. You pick up the phone and manually dial your ISP's access number. You try to hum to communicate to the modem.|
|*||You start introducing yourself as "John Doe at AOL dot com.|
|*||Your cat (or dog) has it's own home page.|
|*||You can't call your mother....she doesn't have a modem.|
|*||You check your mail. It says "no new messages". So you check it again.|
|*||You don't know what sex three of your closest friends are, because they have neutral nicknames and you never bothered to ask.|
|*||You find yourself typing "com" after every period when using a word processor.com|
|*||You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like you just pulled the plug on a loved one.|
|*||Your start introducing yourself as "Jon at I-I-Net dot com"|
|*||Your wife drapes a blond wig over your monitor to remind you of what she looks like.|
|*||All of your friends have an @ in their name.|
|*||You can't call your mother..... she doesn't have a modem.|
|*||Your phone bill comes to your doorstep in a box.|
|*||You laugh at people with 2400 modems.|
|*||You move into a new house and decide to Netscape before you landscape.|
|*||You refer to going to the bathroom as downloading.|
|*||You tell the cab driver you live at:|
and you have a mirror address at:
|*||You actually try that "123.elm.street" address.|
|*||Your spouse makes a new rule: "The computer cannot come to bed."|
|*||You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in front of your computer with a commode.|
|*||You start tilting your head sideways to smile. :)|
|*||You turn on your computer and turn off your spouse.|
|*||Your spouse says communication is important in a marriage..... so you buy another computer and install a second phone line so the two of you can chat.|
|*||You begin to wonder how on earth your service provider is allowed to call 200 hours per month "unlimited."|
|*||You take a vacation, but only after buying a cellular modem and a laptop.|
|*||You turn on your intercom when leaving the room so you can hear if new e-mail arrives.|
|*||You have to have at least two Internet Service Providers, just in case one goes out....|
|*||When it takes you two days of sending unsubscribe and nomail messages just so you can go out of town for the weekend....|
|*||Your bookmark takes 15 minutes to scroll from top to bottom.|
|*||You realize there is not a sound in the house and you have no idea where your children are.|
|*||You never have to deal with busy signals when calling your ISP...because you never log off.|
|*||Batteries in the TV remote now last for months.|
|*||When you can't find your local shopping mall without downloading the map and directions from Map It...|
|*||When you'd rather shop at your local mall through their web pages rather than getting into your car and go looking...|
The day finally arrived: Forest Gump dies and goes to Heaven. He is met at the Pearly Gates by Saint Peter himself. The gates are closed, however, and Forest approaches the gatekeeper.
Saint Peter says, "Well, Forest, it's certainly good to see you. We have heard a lot about you. I must inform you that the place is filling up fast, and we've been administering an entrance examination for everyone. The tests are fairly short, but you need to pass before you can get into Heaven."
Forest responds, "It shore is good to be here Saint Peter. I was looking forward to this. Nobody ever told me about any entrance exams. Shore hope the test ain't too hard; life was a big enough test as it was."
Saint Peter goes on, "Yes, I know Forest." "But, the test I have for you is only three questions. Here is the first:
What days of the week begin with the letter 'T'?"
"Second, how many seconds are there in a year?"
"Third, what is God's first name?"
Forest goes away to think the questions over. He returns the next day and goes up to Saint Peter to try to answer the exam questions.
Saint Peter waves him up and asks, "Now that you have had a chance to think the questions over, tell me your answers."
Forest says, "Well, the first one, - how many days of the week begin with the letter 'T'? Shucks, that one's easy; that'd be Today and Tomorrow!"
The saint's eyes open wide and he exclaims, "Forest! That's not what I was thinking, but ... you do have a point though, and I guess I didn't specify, so I give you credit for that answer."
"How about the next one" says Saint Peter, "how many seconds in a year?"
"Now that one's harder," says Forest. "But, I thunk and thunk about that, and I guess the only answer can be twelve."
Astounded, Saint Peter says, "Twelve!" "Twelve!" "Forest, how in Heaven's name could you come up with twelve seconds in a year?"
Forest says, "Shucks, there gotta be twelve: January second, February second, March second....."
"Hold it," interrupts Saint Peter. "I see where you're going with it. And I guess I see your point, though that wasn't quite what I had in mind. I'll give you credit for that one too."
"Let's go on with the next and final question," says Saint Peter, "Can you tell me God's first name?"
Forest says, "Well shore, I know God's first name.
Everbody probly knows it. It's Howard."
"Howard?" asks Saint Peter. "What makes you think it's 'Howard'?"
Forest answers, "It's in the prayer."
"The prayer?" asks Saint Peter, "Which prayer?"
"The Lord's Prayer," responds Forest: "Our Father, Howard be thy name...."
|*||Home is where you hang your @|
|*||The E-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail.|
|*||A journey of a thousand sites begins with a single click.|
|*||You can't teach a new mouse old clicks.|
|*||Great groups from little icons grow.|
|*||Speak softly and carry a cellular phone.|
|*||C:\ is the root of all directories.|
|*||Don't put all your hypes in one home page.|
|*||Pentium wise; pen and paper foolish.|
|*||The modem is the message.|
|*||Too many clicks spoil the browse.|
|*||The geek shall inherit the earth.|
|*||A chat has nine lives.|
|*||Don't byte off more than you can view.|
|*||Fax is stranger than fiction.|
|*||What boots up must come down.|
|*||Windows will never cease.|
|*||In Gates we trust (and our tender is legal).|
|*||Virtual reality is its own reward.|
|*||Modulation in all things.|
|*||A user and his leisure time are soon parted.|
|*||There's no place like http://www.home.com|
|*||Know what to expect before you connect.|
|*||Oh, what a tangled website we weave when first we practice.|
|*||Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach him to use the Net and he won't bother you for weeks.|
E-mail contributions to Rob Nelson.
Nov 1, 2001