Networking night before Christmas

Sparkle

"Techno Nocturnal Christmas Blues"


"Twas the night before Christmas" I thought with a frown,
I was stuck at the office. The network was down.
The routers were hung in the closet. All crashed.
Their tables had holes in their data. All trashed.
Remote distribution, it seems, just for fun,
Had erased DLLs Windows need to run
On 84 desktops way down in accounting.
I sat stunned at my desk, my blood pressure mounting.
When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter,
I saw that a server had something the matter.
There was smoke coming out from the main hard disk drive.
"No Problem," I thought. "I'm set up with RAID 5."
But I found out the system I thought was unstoppable
Had disk drives that turned out completely unswappable!
"No problem," I thought, "I've tape backup to thank."
And then I discovered my backups were blank.
The UPS burped, and lights all went out.
I started to scream, I started to shout
But nobody heard as I vented my rage.
My gurus were all on vacation those days.
And nobody's tech support answered the phone.
I was nose deep in trouble, completely alone.
When out at reception, I heard a soft knock.
As the hands just touched midnight on my desktop clock...
"What's you problem?" he asked.
"Never mind, friend, I know.
I checked out your network five hours ago.
I did some proactive analysis, so
I knew this time bomb was going to blow."
Who was this guy? Who did he think he was?
He was dressed in red coveralls, white beard, black gloves.
His eyes had the twinkle of technical genius.
His smile cut down personal distance between us.
He spread out his tools, and went straight to his work.
"Whoever configured this network's a jerk,"
He said with a :-)> as he quickly rebooted,
Uploaded some software, and smoothly rerouted
The LAN to a WAN that he quickly supplied
With a bandwidth at least 20 gigabits wide
That went via wireless, I think, LEO,
To tech support elves waiting at the North Pole.
"Now bridging, now routing, now Ethernet hubs!"
He chanted as each piece of hardware he rubbed.
"Cheer up, my good friend! Lose that mind set so tragic!
Technology often looks just like some magic
To people who don't understand what we do.
Now a switch, emulation, now middleware glue!
Look at the protocols, check one or two,
Debug a bit, test a bit, presto! We're through!"
My data was back! Every system checked out!
Tears of joy wet my face as I wandered about.
"How can I thank you? You must be Saint Nick!"
He said, "Really, my friend, it's not such a great trick,
If you don't give up hope, focus on what you're doing,
And read all your issues of NETWORK COMPUTING."
And I heard him exclaim, as his reindeer were coursing,
"Merry Christmas to all! And consider outsourcing!"

~Author Unknown

EdBanger

WOW:)

Capt'n Midnight

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the shop,
The computers were whirring; they never do stop.
The power was on and the temperature right,
In hopes that the input would feed back that night.

The system was ready, the program was coded,
And memory drums had been carefully loaded;
While adding a Christmasy glow to the scene,
The lights on the console, flashed red, white and green.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
The programmer ran to see what was the matter.
Away to the hallway he flew like a flash,
Forgetting his key in his curious dash.
He stood in the hallway and looked all about,
When the door slammed behind him, and he was locked out.

Then, in the computer room what should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer;
And a little old man, who with scarcely a pause,
Chuckled: "My name is Santa...the last name is Claus."

The computer was startled, confused by the name,
Then it buzzed as it heard the old fellow exclaim:
"This is Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
And Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen."

With all these odd names, it was puzzled anew;
It hummed and it clanked, and a main circuit blew.
It searched in its memory core, trying to "think";
Then the multi-line printer went out on the blink.

Unable to do its electronic job,
It said in a voice that was almost a sob:
"Your eyes - how they twinkle - your dimples so merry,
Your cheeks so like roses, your nose like a cherry,

Your smile - all these things, I've been programmed to know,
And at data-recall, I am more than so-so;
But your name and your address (computers can't lie),
Are things that I just cannot identify.

You've a jolly old face and a little round belly,
That shakes when you laugh like a bowlful of jelly;
My scanners can see you, but still I insist,
Since you're not in my program, you cannot exist!"

Old Santa just chuckled a merry "ho, ho",
And sat down to type out a quick word or so.
The keyboard clack-clattered, its sound sharp and clean,
As Santa fed this "data" to the machine:

"Kids everywhere know me; I come every year;
The presents I bring add to everyone's cheer;
But you won't get anything - that's plain to see;
Too bad your programmers forgot about me."

Then he faced the machine and said with a shrug,
"Merry Christmas to All," as he pulled out its plug!
(author unknown)

Capt'n Midnight

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a peripheral was stirring, not even a mouse.
The modem was plugged to the phone line with care
In hopes that a download soon would be there.

Our pirates were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of unprotects danced in their heads.
And Mama in her kerchief, and I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When up on the hard drive there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the monitor I flew like a flash,
Sat down at the keyboard, gave the spacebar a mash.

The sight on the screen, all a'flicker with snow,
Gave the luster of power surge to the menu below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an autoexec.bat that seemed rather queer.

With a little print driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I had seen a new trick.
More rapid than eagles the cursors they came;
My MIDI whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Format, now Rename, now Copy, and Enter!
On Num Lock, on Caps Lock, on Scroll Lock, and Printer!
"To the top of the page, to the top of the doc,
Now tab it and bold it and merge it and block!"

As utilities that build up the CPU speed
Clash with just the programs I need,
So up to the screen top the cursors they flew,
With a RAM full of memory and an expansion board too.

And then, in a twinkling I heard on the speaker,
The grinding of the hard drive growing much weaker.
As I tried to reboot and turn it around,
The attributes changed from blue into brown.

I hit the control, the alt, and delete.
The screen message it gave me, I cannot repeat.
It asked me to Ignore, Retry, or Abort.
It told me the parallel had become the comm port.

Its lights how they twinkled; its pixels how merry,
Its prompts were all scrambled, like a bowl full of cherries.
It sounded just like it wanted to blow;
The screen was suddenly white as the snow.

It scrolled its directory before my eyes
With programs I didn't even recognize.
It wouldn't see , it wouldn't see E:;
I couldn't get out of B: into C:.

Norton's tried to read it, finally finding the FAT;
But alas! The disk was faulty, and couldn't reformat.
Away flew the DBase; away flew the DOS-es;
Away flew the WordStar; right out with the Windows.

The spreadsheets were spreading; the footers were headings;
What once had been memory was close to forgetting.
When the grinding was over and the smoke had all cleared,
I looked at the hard drive; it was just as I feared.

The 600 meg wonder had crashed in the night;
I'll never be able to block out that sight!
So tell everyone you know to avoid my plight;
Back up your files! Merry Christmas! Good Night!

Capt'n Midnight

'Twas the night before implementation and all
through the house,
Not a program was working, not even a browse.
The programmers hung by their tubes in dispair,
With hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of inquiries danced in there heads.

When out in the computer room there arose such
a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a super programmer (with a six pack of beer).

His resume glowed with experince so rare,
He turned out great code with bit-pusher flare.
More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
And he cursed and muttered and called them by
name:
On Update..on Add..on Inquiry..on delete..
On Batch Jobs..on Closing..on Functions Complete.

His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,
From weekends and nights in front of the screen.
A wink of his eye, and a twitch of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Turning specs into code, and then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger upon the ENTER key,
He brought it all up and it worked perfectly.

The updates updated, the deletes, they deleted,
The inquiries inquired, and all had gone well.
The system was finished, the tests were concluded,
The users' last changes were even included.
Yet the users exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
"IT'S JUST WHAT WE ASKED FOR, BUT NOT WHAT WE WANT!"

Capt'n Midnight

'Twas the night before Christmas, and throughout the net,
not a modem was chirping; (It wasn't mail-hour yet).

The peripherals down and backed up with care,
In hopes that St. Echo soon would be there.
The grad students home all snug in their beds,
with hi-res dreams abuzz in their heads.
We Sysops lounged by the terminal's glow,
With occasional bursts of RF snow.
When from the hard drives there came such a clatter,
To the consoles we sprang to see what was the matter.
The monitor cleared, then flashed red and green,

as we hunched in our chairs around the machine.
When what to our wondering eyes should appear,
but VGA graphics of a sleigh and reindeer,
with a bitmapped driver, a lively old fellow,
I knew right away it must be St. Echo.
Faster than mnp his packets they came,
and he whistled and shouted as he called them by name:
"Now, Arpa! now, Bitnet! now, Opus and D-Comm!
On, CC:Mail and Fido and SEAdog and TComm!
Over Watts and Pursuit, via long-distance call,
Now hack away, hack away, hack away all!
As fast as the switching that sends them about,
When they meet with a BUSY, change to "host route",
So onto the mailer, and protocol sync,
when the RD and SD lights ceased to blink.
There off the screen, I saw a reflection,
and turned 'round to look in the other direction.
Right there behind us, amidst the tech-toys,
Had appeared St. Echo, with not even a noise.
Wearing a grimy red jumpsuit from his feet to his beard,
None but a techie could look that weird.
Odd bits of surplus hung out of his sack,
that bulged at odd angles slung over his back.
His eyes did .twinkle, though somewhat bleary,
from staring at monitors, yet still quite merry.
the corners of his mouth were turned up in a ,
and a scraggly grey beard hung down from his chin.
A '486 portable in his left hand was held,
and a cellular modem was strapped to his belt.
I d to see him, this overweight gnome,
he settled down by the CP, as if it 'twere home.
A flip of the toggles, and a tug on his beard,

soon showed us that he was not to be feared.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
filled all empty sockets, then with a swift jerk,
replaced a few boards inside the machine,
turned it back on and checked it out clean.
The screen cleared once more, flashed green and red,
as he faded from sight he (wave)d and said;
"Keep the net singing, and I'll always be near,
Merry Christmas to all, and a Happy New Year!"

Sparkle

Kill Joy

SpankyFart

The first one is ace!

kmart6

So mant but all so good:D

Raphael

WHERE THE HELL DO ALL THESE COME FROM?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!




(they're good btw)

Spawn

!! Twas the night before christmas !!


'Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat
The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner and poor momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
With a fat little driver, half out of his sled,
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I'm speaking, he was as high as a kite.
And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right.
Whoa ****head, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee.
They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
I was donning my jacket to cover my ass,
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.
"That was some brothel," he said with a smile,
"The reindeer are pooped, and I'll just stay here awhile.

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find,
And a six pair of panties, the edible kind.
A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several other things that I shouldn't even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.
"This stuff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will ****,
So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split."

He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve.
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch,
Saying, "Take me home Rudolph, this night's been a bitch!"
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
"The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!"

Mutant_Fruit

geniouses, pure geniouses (don't expect that to be spellt right, or that!). Either that, or plagerists.

TomTom

all brillant, keep em coming.

Spawn

Roffles there all good Pld