DOS Beer -- Requires you to use your own can opener, and requires you to read the directions carefully before opening the can. Originally only came in an 8-oz. can, but now comes in a 16-oz. can. However, the can is divided into 8 compartments of 2 oz. each, which have to be accessed separately. Soon to be discontinued, although a lot of people are going to keep drinking it after it's no longer available.

You have been online for 46 minutes. Do you want to stay
on-line? Please respond within 10 minutes or you will be logged
off.

You have been online for 92 minutes? Do you still want to stay
online? Please respond within 10 minutes or you will be logged
off.

You have been online for 135 minutes? Not to put pressure on
you, but there are other people in the world who would like to
sign on.

You DO realize that you have been online for 184 minutes, right?
When was the last time that you were outside?

OK, this is getting ridiculous! You have been online for 240
minutes. Frankly, you are beginning to piss us off. If you sign
off now, we will bring back your buddy list, OK?

You have now been online for 360 minutes. We promised you
unlimited time, we know, but can't you just finish up now and go
read a good book?

You have been online for 467 minutes. Do you remember your
family members' names?

You have been online 513 minutes. Your spouse has left you and
your dog is starving. Do you wish to remain online?

You have been online 724 minutes. Steve Case is coming over to
personally kick your ass.

You have been online for 852 minutes. Do you have ANY idea how
many HOURS that is?

You have been online for 921 minutes. Do you realize that
American Online averages 921 complaints per hour regarding busy
phone lines. That is because of YOU, you loser! Now log off and
go to bed!

You have been online for 1000 minutes. When AOL went unlimited,
we didn't think you would take us literally. Now hang up!

You have been online since yesterday. If you don't log off, we
are coming over to your house and pulling the damn phone out of
the wall!

Thank You.

Online computer users may engage in what is affectionately known as "cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared through internet phone lines get pretty raunchy However, as you'll see below, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of cyber sex. Then again, maybe he does.................

Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?

Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like?

Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from WalMart. I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner... it smells funny.

Sweetheart: I want you. Would you like to screw me?

Wellhung: OK...sure.

Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo, and there are candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.

Wellhung: I'm gulping. I'm beginning to sweat.

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest. Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling. Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.

Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.

Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.

Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry.

Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.

Wellhung: I'll pay for it.

Sweetheart: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breathe harder and harder.

Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?

Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly. I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.

Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.

Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.

Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know...breasts. They're neat!

Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.

Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.

Sweetheart: What??

Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.

Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.

Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.

Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.

Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold!! Yeeeee!!!

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Taking off my panties.

Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on your...ummm..... wait a minute.

Sweetheart: What's the matter?

Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.

Sweetheart: Are you OK ?

Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.

Sweetheart: Can I help?

Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?

Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.

Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.

Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.

Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you.

Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now, I'm putting it back in the cabinet, and now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?

Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.

Wellhung: I found it.

Sweetheart: I'm tugging off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so = badly.

Wellhung: Me too.

Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately - our naked = bodies pressing against each other

Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.

Sweetheart: Why don't you take off your glasses?

Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table

Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby !

Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.

Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.

Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet, I lift the lid.

Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.

Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!!

Sweetheart: What's the matter now ?

Wellhung: I've just realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.

Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.

Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my.... you know... thing...in your...you know... woman's thing.

Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!!

Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I have a little trouble here.

Sweetheart: I'm moving my butt back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!!

Wellhung: I'm flaccid.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.

Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face.

Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.

Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet, nasty blouse.

Wellhung: No, wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.

Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.

Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of your candles fell on the curtain. The curtain in on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.

Sweetheart: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!

Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire. Oh noooooo!!

Bill Gates dies in a car accident. He finds himself in purgatory, being sized up by St. Peter.
"Well, Bill, I'm really confused on this call; I'm not sure whether to send you to Heaven or Hell. After all, you enormously helped society by putting a computer in almost every home in America, yet you also created that ghastly Windows '95. I'm going to do something I've never done before in your case; I'm going to let you decide where you want to go."

Bill replied, "well, what's the difference between the two?"

St. Peter said, "I'm willing to let you visit both places briefly, if it will help your decision."

"Fine, but where should I go first?"

"I'll leave that up to you."

"Okay then," said Bill, "Let's try Hell first."

So Bill went to Hell. It was a beautiful, clean, sandy beach with clear waters and lots of bikini-clad women running around, playing in the water, laughing and frolicking about.The sun was shining; the temperature perfect. He was very pleased.

"This is great!" he told St. Peter. "If this is hell, I REALLY want to see heaven!"

"Fine," said St. Peter, and off they went.

Heaven was a place high in the clouds, with angels drifting about, playing harps and singing. It was nice, but not as enticing as Hell.

Bill thought for a quick minute, and rendered his decision.

"Hmmm. I think I'd prefer Hell," he told St. Peter.

"Fine," retorted St. Peter, "as you desire."

So Bill Gates went to Hell.

Two weeks later, St. Peter decided to check on the late billionaire to see how he was doing in Hell. When he got there, he found Bill, shackled to a wall, screaming amongst hot flames in dark caves, being burned and tortured by demons.

"How's everything going?" he asked Bill.

Bill responded, with his voice filled with anguish and disappointment, "This is awful! This is nothing like the Hell I visited two weeks ago! I can't believe this is happening! What happened to that other place, with the beautiful beaches, the scantily-clad women playing in the water?!???

"That was a demo," replied St. Peter.

Do you know, when you have been sitting in front of a computer for too
long?

- When you start to double klick in elevators and on other buttons

Richard Nixon virus: Also known as the "Tricky Dick Virus", you can wipe it out but it always makes a comeback.

Three women are sitting in a bar talking about their love lives.

The first one says, "My husband is an architect. When we make love it has power, it has form, it has function. It's incredible!"

The second one says, "My husband is an artist. When we make love it has passion, it has emotion, it has vision. It's wonderful!"

The third woman sighs and sips her margarita, then says, "My husband works for Microsoft. When we make love, he just sits at the end of the bed and tells me how great it's going to be when it gets here."

AMISH VIRUS:

You have just received the Amish Virus. Since we do not have electricity nor computers, you are on the honor system. Please delete all of your files.

Thank thee.