De Beers obviously wanted us to visualise a particular image when they came up with the famous ad campaign in the 1990's. Unfortunately for me, every time I hear Palladio, Karl Jenkin's musical accompaniment to those ads, I always associate it with this image:
It is 2:30am and I am unable to get to sleep due to the hot weather, so I am whiling away the night by listening to the radio. The presenter on Classic FM just read out a most amsuing (and possibly apocryphal) email from a listener in the USA (the power of streaming audio).
The listener wrote that the boycott of french goods is very much alive at the moment, and that someone they knew bought a case of french wine from the supermarket, took it home, and poured it down the sink. In an attempt to help boycott the french economy...
An unemployed man goes to apply for a job with Microsoft as a janitor. The manager there arranges for him to take an aptitude test (Section: Floors, sweeping and cleaning).
After the test, the manager says, "You will be employed at minimum wage, $5.15 an hour. Let me have your e-mail address, so that I can send you a form to complete and tell you where to report for work on your first day.
Taken aback, the man protests that he has neither a computer nor an e-mail address. To this the MS manager replies, "Well, then, that means that you virtually don't exist and can therefore hardly expect to be employed.
Stunned, the man leaves. Not knowing where to turn and having only $10 in his wallet, he decides to buy a 25-pound flat of tomatoes at the supermarket. Within less than 2 hours, he sells all the tomatoes individually at 100% profit. Repeating the process several times more that day, he ends up with almost $100 before going to sleep that night. And thus it dawns on him that he could quite easily make a living selling tomatoes. Getting up early every day and going to bed late, he multiplies his profits quickly.
After a short time he acquires a cart to transport several dozen boxes of tomatoes, only to have to trade it in again so that he can buy a pick-up truck to support his expanding business. By the end of the second year, he is the owner of a fleet of pick-up trucks and manages a staff of a hundred former unemployed people, all selling tomatoes.
Planning for the future of his wife and children, he decides to buy some life insurance. Consulting with an insurance adviser, he picks an insurance plan to fit his new circumstances. At the end of the telephone conversation, the adviser asks him for his e-mail address in order to send the final documents electronically.
When the man replies that he has no e-mail, the adviser is stunned, "What, you don't have e-mail? How on earth have you managed to amass such wealth without the Internet, e-mail and e-commerce? Just imagine where you would be now, if you had been connected to the Internet from the very start!" After a moment of thought, the tomato millionaire replied, "Why, of course! I would be a floor cleaner at Microsoft!"
Moral of this story:
1) The Internet, e-mail and e-commerce do not need to rule your life.
2) If you don't have e-mail, but work hard, you can still become a millionaire.
3) Seeing that you got this story via the internet, you're probably closer to becoming a janitor than you are to becoming a millionaire.
4) If you do have a computer and e-mail, you have already been taken to the cleaners by Microsoft
[ another one from the archives, and this is actually the one I meant to post the other day ]
Once upon a time, a perfect man and a perfect woman met. After a perfect courtship, they had a perfect wedding. Their life together was, of course, perfect.
One snowy, stormy Christmas Eve, this perfect couple were driving their perfect car (a Grand Caravan) along a winding road, when they noticed someone at the side of the road in distress. Being the perfect couple, they stopped to help.
There stood Santa Claus with a huge bundle of toys. Not wanting to disappoint any children on the eve of Christmas, the perfect couple loaded Santa and his
toys into their vehicle. Soon they were driving along delivering the toys.
Unfortunately, the driving conditions deteriorated and the perfect couple and
Santa Claus had an accident. Only one of them survived the accident.
Who was the survivor?
The perfect woman survived. She's the only one who really existed in the first
place. Everyone knows there is no Santa Claus and there is no such thing as a perfect man.
Women stop reading here, that is the end of the joke.
Men, please click on the link below...
Whilst searching for the joke for the previous entry, I came across this little gem, sent to me via email last summer:
A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village. An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.
"Not very long," answered the Mexican.
"Well, then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American.
The Mexican explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.
The American asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"
"I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, and sing a few songs... I have a full life."
The American interrupted, "I have an MBA from Harvard and I can help you.
You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat. With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers.
Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles, or even New York City! From there you can direct your huge enterprise."
"How long would that take?" asked the Mexican.
"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the American.
"And after that?"
"Afterwards? That's when it gets really interesting," answered American, laughing. "When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"
"Millions? Really? And after that?"
"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take siestas with your wife, and spend your evenings drinking and enjoying your friends."
So there I was over at journalspace, having a browse through the usual journals, and came across a joke in jewels9445's journal.
Well I think it's time for a few male friendly jokes, here is the first one:
Three girlfriends go on vacation together. In their travels, they see a six-story hotel with a large flashing sign that says, "FOR WOMEN ONLY."
Since they are without their boyfriends, they decide to go in. A very attractive man at the front desk greets them and says, "Well ladies, this is how this hotel works. We have five guest floors, each with its own speciality. Once you find what you're looking for, you can stay there. It's easy to decide - each floor has a sign right outside the elevator telling you what's inside."
So up they go. On the first floor the sign reads:
"All the men here are rotten lovers, but they are sensitive and kind."
The friends laugh and, without hesitation, move on to the next floor.
The sign there reads:
"All the men here are fantastic lovers, but they tend to treat women rather badly."
This won't do, so the girls move on to the third floor where they read:
"All the men here are great lovers and sensitive to the needs of women."
"Woo-ooh," says one woman "sounding good!". However, with two more floors to go, they can't resist going upwards.
On the fourth floor, the sign is perfect:
"All the men here have perfect bodies, are sensitive and attentive to women, are perfect lovers, and each one is single and very very rich."
"Come to mama!!" one cries, and they do hesitate for a moment, but decide that they just have to go up to the final floor.
As the door opens, they see a big flashing sign that reads:-
Can't wait until it is released? Try downloading this (2.5MB) mpeg spoof of the first matrix film:
I also have an "extended" 4min 30 sec version of this video, but it is about 25MB and not as funny. (IMO). Still let me know if you're interested in it.
Not the same as a haiku, but I like clerihews, and here is a selection of clerihews about rock stars, written with the fact that 50 of them made it to the Sunday Times Rich List this year.
[ Appeared in todays print edition of the Daily Telegraph and written by Craig Brown, I'm afraid I'm not this creative! ]
George Michael
Has no need to cycle.
If he wants to be seen he
Prefers the Lamborghini.
Charlie Watts
Earns pots and pots:
Thirty years of looking bored
Lets him live like a Lord.
Tom Jones
Has no need of loans
(Though nothing sounds viler
Than Why, Why, Why Delilah).
Jimmy Page
Earns a decent wage.
(He's been on a spree
Since Led Zeppelin 3.)
Van Morrison
Says, "Don't worry, son.
I made a lot of bread
From 'Jackie Wilson Said'."
Brian May
Is on reasonable pay
Though he still has to save
For his permanent wave.
Ringo Starr
Has gone very far
Since passing the test
Of not being Pete Best.
Roger Waters
Certainly taught us
How to make the tills chime
To "Money - it's a crime".
Engelbert Humperdink
Wears a fur jumper (mink).
I wish I had a share
In his facial hair.
Sir Tim Rice
Never looks at the price.
He says "You can tell they're mine
If the words nearly rhyme."
Madonna
Can outspend Des O'Connor
(But I still prefer to hum
Des's "Dick-a-dum-dum").
Mark Knopfler
Says, "I'm 26th from the top, sir -
Even though my fate's
To be in Dire Straits."
Sir Mick Jagger
Likes to strut and swagger
But if dinner costs too much
He'll suggest you go Dutch.
Barry Gibb
Likes to ad lib.
"I was born in the ghetto,"
He'll sing in falsetto.
Sir Paul McCartney
Says, "I'm dead smart, me -
I'll let nothing I own go
To Ms Yoko Ono."
Sir Elton John
Won't be outshone:
He'd spend an arm and a leg
On the ultimate boiled egg.
As counteraction to the May Day Reclaim the Streets Protests the following
is proposed:
INTERNATIONAL CITY DAY OF ACTION
Next Thursday will be the International City Day of Action. On this day, we ask you all to don your finest pinstripe, apply your monocles, glue mobile phone to ear and then head off down to Brighton to disrupt as many dredlocked soap dodging men and women with dogs on string as possible.
Plan of action:
Police advice to all crusties at present: "Get a job you scrounging bastards"
