'Twas the Night Before Christmas (Programmer Style)

[LittleKing]

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 despair,
with hopes that a miracle soon would be there.
The users were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
When out in the machine room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
And what to wondering eyes should appear,
but a super programmer (with a six-pack of beer).
His resume glowed with experience so rare,
he turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair.
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 Closings! On Functions Complete!
His eyes were glased over, fingers nimble and lean,
from weekends and nights in front of a 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; thne turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger upon the "ENTER" key,
the system came up and workd perfectly.
The updated updated; the deletes, they deleted,
the inquiries inquired, the closings completed.
He tested each whistle, and tested each bell,
with nary a bomb, and all had gone well.
The system was finished, the tests were concluded,
the users' last changes were even included.
And the user exclaimed with snarl and a taunt,
"It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"

- Anonymous


found at http://www.citilink.com/~jgarrick/vbasic/humor/nightbeforechristmas.html


[This message has been edited by LittleKing (edited 12-08-1999).]

[Nathan]

LOL. Talk about a great dream.

That last line is more the truth than anything.

[LittleKing]

Here are a few other randitions I found:

Firefighters version: http://www.primenet.com/~kringle/firexmas.html

Gothic Version: http://www.deadlounge.com/xmas/1998/index3.html

The original: http://www.night.net/christmas/Twas-night01.html

[cyphen]

that's awesome!

Amyone out there have the computer version of the raven
something like

"longing for the warmth of bedsheets,
still i sat here doing spreadsheets"

and instead of "quoth the raven ... nevermore"
it was "abort retry, ignore"

it was hilarious, but alas i no longer have it...

[cyphen]

found it! same website

for anyone who cares- i know it's not seasonal, but it's still funny!

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets, Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line, I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command
and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed the choices as the disk made monstrous noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
From " Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With my fingers pale and trembling, Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee Timidly I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted, words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying."Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off-guard - I pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
then I tried in desperation, sev'ral random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, mocking, winking, flashing nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted; by my own machine accosted
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know The place to which lost data goes.
What demonic nether world is wrought where data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, in black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Author Unknown

[LittleKing]

I like it. LOL

LK

[jokostel]

not bad... could use some more "creative" language if ya know what i mean....hehe http://www.sysopt.com/forum/smile.gif