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To: EddieMacG who wrote (1701)3/6/1999 4:43:00 PM
From: P.S.N.  Respond to of 2733
 
Muscle Memory

***********************************************************************

A man is walking down the street in Dublin when he hears a woman
screaming and detects a faint smell of burning in the air. He runs
down the street and around a corner and sees a huge group of people
standing watching a blazing building. On the tenth floor of the
building a woman, clutching a bundle to her chest, is leaning out of
a window screaming for someone to save her baby.

The man steps forward and calls up to the woman, "Throw down your
baby and I'll catch it!"

"No! No!" the woman shouts back. "You might miss or drop my baby
and she'll be killed!"

"No I won't!" shouts the man. "I am Alec Maguire. I'm the
goalkeeper for Ireland's national football [soccer] team. I've
never missed a match in ten years and in all that time I have never
let the ball into my net."

"What? Not once?" calls the woman.

"No!" shouts back the man. "Not once. Every football player in the
world agrees that I am the best goalkeeper there has ever been".

And with that he adopts the classic goalkeepers stance - legs apart
and slightly bent at the knees, body slightly bent forward at the
waist and with his arms stretched downwards at a slight angle away
from his body, with palms facing forward.

"OK!" screams the woman. "I'll trust you. I've no choice! Here
she comes!"

So, with the flames roaring all around her, the woman throws the
baby from the window. However, the edge of the baby's shawl catches
on the woman's watch with the result that the child goes spinning
off to one side, tumbling head over heels and with her little arms
and legs flailing. The woman screams and the crowd gasps, all sure
that the baby will perish because she will fall out of reach of the
man.

The man remains motionless as the child descends, spinning and
tumbling further and further away from him as she comes. Then when
the baby is only feet from hitting the ground the man dives a full
30 feet across the pavement [sidewalk], catches the baby in his
outstretched right hand, pulls her in towards his chest and shields
her body with his left hand and arm. He hits the ground heavily on
his right side and lies motionless on the pavement for a few
seconds. Then, slowly, he raises himself to his feet and turns to
face the crowd and everyone sees that the child is alive.

The crowd is awe-struck. Then the crowd erupts with cheers and the
woman, still in danger herself, nearly faints with relief. The man,
still clutching the child to his chest in his right arm, waves to
the crowd of onlookers to acknowledge their appreciation. Then,
slowly and gracefully, he turns away from them, bounces the baby
twice on the ground, and kicks her 60 yards down the road.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

PSN



To: EddieMacG who wrote (1701)3/6/1999 4:45:00 PM
From: P.S.N.  Respond to of 2733
 
The Bar Bet

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The local bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man
around that they offered a standing $1000 bet.
The bartender would squeeze a lemon until all the juice ran into a
glass, and hand the lemon to a patron. Anyone who could squeeze one
more drop of juice out would win the money.
Many people had tried over time ( weightlifters, longshoremen,
etc.) but nobody could do it.
One day this scrawny little man came in, wearing thick glasses and
a polyester suit, and said in a tiny, squeaky voice," I'd like to try
the bet."
After the laughter had died down, the bartender said OK, grabbed a
lemon, and squeezed away. Then he handed the wrinkled remains of the
rind to the little man.
But the crowd's laughter turned to total silence as the man
clenched his fist around the lemon and six drops fell into the glass.
As the crowd cheered, the bartender payed the $1000, and asked the
little man," what do you do for a living? Are you a lumberjack, a
weightlifter, or what?"
The man replied," I work for the IRS."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

PSN



To: EddieMacG who wrote (1701)3/6/1999 4:47:00 PM
From: P.S.N.  Respond to of 2733
 
Mystical Stuff

from

Swami River

astrologer from The NetEnquirer

Aquarius Jan 20-Feb 18. A phone call from Tony Randall indicates he is
willing to father your next child.

Pisces Feb 19-Mar 20. A relationship that is cooling off could turn hot
again when your ex hooks up your toilet seat to a Sears Diehard.

Aries Mar 21-Apr 19. Big financial rewards are yours when a disgruntled
waiter serves your soup in his sock.

Taurus April 20 - May 20. Work demands that you have a few tricks up your
sleeve -- although a .357 Magnum isn't what we had in mind.

Gemini May 21-June21. Warring factions in your family finally reach
agreement and begin to attack you.

Cancer June22-July22. This is a perfect time to begin that project because
when you fail, very few people are paying attention to you right now.

Leo July 23-Aug 22. Someone close to you is using your toothbrush to give
the hampster a bath.

Virgo Aug 23-Sept 22. This week, stay around the house and don't stand near
any windows.

Libra Sept 23 - Oct 23. In a surprise from the past, the school crossing
guard who had a thing for you back in elementary school shows up in a clown
suit..

Scorpio Oct 24-Nov 21. A stranger makes a significant change in your life
and as a result you wish you'd taken out renter's insurance.

Sagittarius Nov 22-Dec 21. Go ahead. Pull the plug on Grandma.

Capricorn Dec 22 - Jan 19. Think twice before telling your boss to gargle
with kerosene.

--------------------------------------------------------



To: EddieMacG who wrote (1701)3/6/1999 4:49:00 PM
From: P.S.N.  Respond to of 2733
 
Windows for Telepaths

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply.
Your question was:

> Oh wonderful and wise Oracle tell me how would one implement a version
> of Windows TP ...... windows for telepaths ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

You open the box labeled "Windows TP", carefully extracting the pouch
labeled "License Agreement". You examine the contents of the pouch,
finding an inflatable beanie bearing the Windows logo rather than the
familiar 3.5" diskette package. You inflate the beanie, insert two
"C"-size batteries (not included), and carefully place it on your head.

You press the Start button.

Immediately, the image of an hourglass comes to your mind. You find
yourself trapped; unable to move anything in your body save your eyes.

After an indeterminable delay, you regain control of your senses.
You are suddenly compelled to speak your name and business affiliation.
You then retrieve your Windows TP package and chant the Product-ID
number.

Suddenly you see the words "Windows is detecting new hardware" flash
before your eyes.

You crash to the floor, writhing in agony. You feel every muscle in
your body contract and retract in turn. Your mind is filled with
the image of a blue inchworm, creeping slowly across a grey field.
The creature finally reaches the edge of its domain, and your seizure
ceases. You take a moment to regain your composure, and you are
reminded of your high school anatomy course as a complete listing of
every organ in your body appears before your eyes. You browse the
list for a moment, and utter the phrase "OK". After a short delay,
you hear the sound of a trumpet echo through the recesses of your mind.

You find yourself in a large, barren space. You look around, and
discover images labeled "My Brain", "Recycle Bin, and "Set up the
Microsoft Network". You feel compelled to utter the word "Start",
after which a list of options floods your mind. Weary from the
detection phase, you utter the word "Shut down". You close your eyes,
and blackness surrounds you. You feel yourself start to drift into
sleep. Your peace is interrupted, however, as a bright orange light
invades your nothingness. "It's now safe to shut down your mind".

You drift into unconsciousness, and sleep for several hours.

When you awaken, you are frozen in place as you see clouds and blue
cycling colors. After a short eternity, the familiar "My Brain"
icon reappears in your mind. But something is terribly wrong;
you can feel it in your gut. Just outside the range of primary
vision, you can sense something lurking about you on all four sides.
You slowly look up, and see the word "Safe Mode" glaring back at you.
You back away slowly, swivel your head, and there it is, behind you
as well. Your heartbeat quickened and you are terrified as you turn
to your left and your right and it meets you there as well, its cold,
heartless glare filling your soul with despair. Quickly, you summon
Control Panel, System, Device Manager. You feel yourself frantically
gasping for air as you run through the list of installed devices.
You come upon "Respiratory System" and are horrified to see a black
exclamation point on a yellow field next to the entry "Lungs".
You close your eyes and utter the word "Properties". On the closed
curtains of your eyelids, you see your life flashing before your eyes.

You force yourself to concentrate on your situation, attempting to
discover which system devices are in conflict, when suddenly your
entire body seizes up in pain.

You lose all sense of reality. You are floating through the clouds as
you hear a voice echo through your mind: "This program has performed
an illegal operation and will be terminated." You start to black
out and suddenly you remember your situation. You stare in horror
at your blue extremities, knowing that, without oxygen, you will
not last much longer. With all the consciousness you can muster,
you force yourself...

To reboot.

You awaken in a place that is dark, but familiar. A solitary white
prompt on a black field greets you. You look behind you and see the
wreckage of the operating system that nearly spelled your demise.
"Cannot find a file that may be needed to run Windows". You turn
around to face the prompt, and a wide grin comes across your face.
You take a deep breath and revel in the life-giving atmosphere.
You laugh as you utter the words,

"DELTREE WINDOWS".

Suddenly you find yourself on the floor of your home. You find
the charred remains of the Windows TP beanie littering the floor.
You carefully gather them up, stack them neatly on an altar, and burn
them, promising yourself never to risk your life with Microsoft again.
You bury the ashes, knowing that your life is again in order.

You owe the Oracle a copy of Windows TP and Bill Gates' home address.

--------------------------------------------------------------
PSN



To: EddieMacG who wrote (1701)3/6/1999 4:50:00 PM
From: P.S.N.  Respond to of 2733
 
CLINTON 'SUSPECT' IN A LOST BOOK SAGA
By Jeanne Jackson

Students have cooked up every excuse under the sun for not doing their
homework, but Karl Morris has one that outranks the rest: President
Clinton took his history book.

Morris, 17, a senior at Jackson Memorial High School asked the president
to sign his textbook at the rally in Freehold Tuesday but never got it
back. So, Morris says, he can't do his reading assignment and he can't
study for the upcoming quiz.

Plus, he fears he'll have to pay $58 to replace the 800 page book, "The
American Pageant" from his advanced placement course in American History.
Morris made his excuses yesterday to his history teacher, Robert Darton,
who was already aware of the mishap.

"I told him, 'I don't have my book today. The president stole it.'"

Darton quipped, "Those darn Democrats," Morris said.

Teachers at the high school telephoned the White House and the Clinton
campaign's New Jersey headquarters to try to recover the book, but were
not succesful, Morris said.

"We'll certainly try to track that down because we certainly would like
to get that book to them," said Jo Astrrid Glading, spokeswomen for the
Clinton-Gore campaign in New Jersey.

Clinton usually does his autographing after an event is over, and
campaign staffers who handle such requests are usually very good about
getting items back to owners, she said.

-------------------------------------------------------------------



To: EddieMacG who wrote (1701)3/6/1999 4:52:00 PM
From: P.S.N.  Read Replies (3) | Respond to of 2733
 
TRUE STORY

The following is a letter sent to Miller Brewing Company. Miller's
response is at the end.

Miller Brewing Company
Milwaukee, Wisconsin 53201

Dear Sir or Madam,

I have been a drinker of Miller beer's for many years (actually, ever
since that other company donated a big chunk of change to Handgun
Control Inc. back in the mid 80's).

Initially, my beer of choice was Lite, but some time in mid 1990 while
in Honduras, I switched to MGD smuggled up from Panama. Now, for
nearly six years, I have been a faithful drinker of MGD.

For these past years, I have come to expect certain things from Genuine
Draft. I expect that whenever I see that gold can of MGD, I am about
ready to enjoy a great, smooth brew.

But wait! Sometime around the first of the year, my beloved MGD
changed colors, so to speak. That familiar gold can was no longer
gold! Knowing that I am, by nature, somewhat resistant to change, I
forced myself to reserve judgment on the new can design.

Gradually, I grew to appreciate the new label (until about May of this
year). That was when I discovered (empirically) that I really didn't
like the new design. Further investigation of the cause of my distress
resulted in the following observations:

1. Your cans are made of aluminum.
2. Aluminum is a great conductor of energy.
3. Your beer is commonly consumed outside, and thus, the container may
be exposed to sunlight.
4. Sunlight striking the can causes radiant warming of the surface of
the can.
5. The resultant heat (energy) is transferred through the aluminum, by
conduction, to the contents of the can (the beer).
6. Warm beer sucks.

This is a process that can be observed in just about any beer.
However, this process is significantly accelerated in MGD because you
painted the damn can black!!!

Who was the rocket scientist that designed the new graphics for the can
and implemented the change right before summer? Granted, this process
may not be real evident up there in Wisconsin, but down here in Texas
where the summers are both sunny and hot, this effect is quite a
problem. There's no telling what the folks in Oklahoma and Arizona
are having to put up with.

Knowing that you would probably not address this issue unless you had
firm evidence of a problem, I and several other subjects conducted
extensive experimentation. The results of these experiments are
listed below.

The experiments were conducted over two days on the deck next to my
pool. The study included seven different types of beer (leftovers from
a party the previous weekend) that were initially chilled to 38 (and
then left exposed to sunlight for different lengths of time. These
beers were sampled by the test subjects at different intervals. The
subjects, all normally MGD drinkers, were asked at each sampling
interval their impressions of the different beers. The length of time
between the initial exposure to sunlight and the point where the
subject determined the sample undrinkable (The *Suckpoint*) was
determined. The average ambient temperature for the trials was 95
degrees F.

Beer Type Average *Suckpoint* (min)
--------- -------------------------
Miller Lite (white can) 6.2
Bud (white can) 5.5
Bud Lite (silver can) 5.2
Ice House (blue and silver can) 4.4
Coors Lite (silver can) 4.1
Miller Genuine Draft (black can) 2.8
Coors (gold can) 0.1

It was evident that the color of the can directly correlates to the
average suckpoint, except for Coors which was pretty much determined
to suck at any point.

It is to be hoped that you will consider re-designing your MGD cans.
All beer drinkers that are not smart enough to keep their beer in the shade will thank you.

Sincerely,

Bradley Lee
Beer-drinker

==================================================================>

Dear Bradley Lee,

Thank you for your letter and your concern about the MGD can color as
it relates to premature warming of the contents. Like you, we at
Miller Beer take beer drinking very seriously. To that end, we have
taken your letter and subsequent experiment under serious consideration.
Outlined below are our findings and solution to your problem. May we add
that we have had similar letters from other loyal beer drinkers, mostly
from the Southern United States.

First, let us congratulate you on your findings. Our analysis tends to
agree with yours regarding Coors. It certainly does suck at about any
temperature.

Now, it was our intention when redesigning the MGD can to create better
brand identity and brand loyalty. Someone in marketing did some kind
of research and determined we needed to redesign the can. You will be
pleased to know, we have fired that idiot and he is now wreaking havoc
at a pro-gun control beer manufacturer. The design staffer working in
cahoots with the marketing idiot was also down-sized.

However, once we realized this mistake, to undo it would have been even
a bigger mistake. So, we took some other actions. From our market
research, we found a difference between Northern beer drinkers and
Southern beer drinkers.

Beer drinkers in the South tend to drink slower than beer drinkers in
the North. We are still researching why that is. Anyway, at Miller
Beer, it was never our intentions to have someone take more than 2.5
minutes to enjoy one of our beers. We pride ourselves in creating
fine, smooth, quick-drinking beers and leave the making of sissy,
slow-sipping beers to that Sam guy in Boston.

However, it is good to know that you feel our Miller Lite can last as
long as 6 minutes. However, may we suggest in the future you try
consuming at least two in that time frame.

From your letter, we had our design staff work 'round the clock to
come up with a solution that would help not just MGD but all our fine
Miller products. We hope you have recently noticed our solution to
your problem. We found that the hole in the top of the can was not
big enough for quick consumption. So, we have now introduced the new
"Wide Mouth" cans. We hope this will solve all your problems. Might
I also suggest that if you want to get the beer out of the can even
faster, you can poke a hole on the side near the bottom, hold your
finger over it, open the can, tip it to your mouth and then pull your
finger off the hole. This is a common way to drink beer at parties
and impress your friends. This technique is known as "shot-gunning".

You should like the name.

Again, thank you for your letter and bringing to our attention that here
might be other beer drinkers taking more that 2.5 minutes to drink our
beers. Let me assure you that I am haveing our advertising department
work on campaign to solve this problem, too.

Sincerely,

Tom B. Miller
Public Relations
Miller Brewing Co.

P.S. And remember, at Miller Beer we do favor gun control, too. So
please use two hands when firing.

PSN