A Dublin lawyer died in poverty, and many people donated to a fund for his funeral. The Lord Chief Justice of Orbury was asked to donate a shilling. “Only a shilling?” said the Justice, “Only a shilling to bury an attorney? Here’s a guinea; go and bury twenty more of them.”

The ballad of Y2K
(sing to the tune of “Gilligan’s Island”)

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale
Of the doom that is our fate.
That started when programmers used
Two digits for a date
Two digits for a date

RAM memory was smaller then;
Hard drives were tiny, too.
“Four digits are extravagant,
So let’s get by with two.
So let’s get by with two.”

“This works through 1999,”
The programmers did say.
“Unless we write new code by then
The data goes away.
The data goes away.”

But management had not a clue;
“It works fine now, you bet!
Rewriting code cost money,
We won’t do it just yet.
We won’t do it just yet.”

Now when 2000 rolls around
It all goes straight to hell,
For zero less then ninety-nine,
As anyone can tell.
As anyone can tell.

The mail won’t bring your pension check;
It won’t be sent to you
When you’re no longer sixty-eight
But minus thirty-two.
But minus thirty-two.

The problems we’re about to face
Are frightening, for sure.
And reading every line of code’s
The only certain cure.
The only certain cure

[[ key change, the big finish coming]]
There’s not much time, there’s too much code,
And COBOL-coders, few.
When the century is finished,
We may be finished, too.
We may be finished, too.

There was a blonde in the middle of a field sitting in a row boat, when another blonde spots her. The blonde in the car gets out of her vehicle and yells to the other blonde “You know it’s blondes like you who give us a bad reputation. If I could swim I’d come out there and kick your ass!”