The Ultimate Computer stood at the end of the Ultimate Computer Company's production line. At which point the guided tour eventually arrived.
The salesman stepped forward to give his prepared demo. 'This,' he said, 'is the Ultimate Computer. It will give an intelligent answer to any question you may care to ask it.'
A smart-aleck who ran a humor mailing list stepped forward and asked, 'Where is my father?'
There was the soft hum of powerful electronic gear going to the task. Panel lights lit and blinked, and within a couple of seconds the laser printer printed out a piece of paper: 'Fishing off Florida.'
The smart-aleck laughed, 'Actually, my father is dead! It was a trick question.'
The salesman, quickly thinking on his feet, replied that he was sorry the answer was unsatisfactory, but as the Ultimate Computer was precise, perhaps a rewording of the question might work better.
The smart-aleck said to the Ultimate Computer, 'Where is my mother's husband?' Again, the hum of the powerful electronic brain filled the room.
After a moment, the laser printer whirred to life. The paper said, 'Dead. But your father is still fishing off Florida.'
A female secretary was helping her new boss set up his computer and asked him what word he would like to use as a password to log in with.
Wanting to embarrass his new secretary a bit and let her know where they stood, he smugly told her to enter 'penis.'
Without blinking or saying a word, she entered the password. She then almost died laughing at the computer's response:
PASSWORD REJECTED. NOT LONG ENOUGH!
Yesterday I came back to my office from Court. There was a new secretary (a very attractive blonde, of course?) in the office down the hall from me. She flagged me down and asked for help. "My floppy drive won't work, can you help me ?" she asked.
I told her I'd take a look and proceeded over to her machine, where I found shredded up clear plastic Baggie-like stuff hanging out of her 3.5" floppy drive. While I spent the next 20 minutes getting out her disk and digging out the plastic, I noticed two guys, John and Dave, in the hall trying awfully hard to keep straight faces. Suspecting some mischief, I asked her how the plastic got into the drive.
"Oh, you mean the condom!", she said.
"Condom???", I asked.
"Yes, John & Dave over there told me to always put a condom on my disk before inserting it, to prevent catching viruses."
By this point, John & Dave were roaring, and it was all I could do to keep from joining them. The "condom" turned out to be a standard 3.5" plastic sleeve. I delicately explained to her that a practical joke had been played, and she shouldn't do that anymore, when she asked (as serious as one could be):
"Does that mean I don't have to stroke it ten times or blow on it either???"
