Bill Gates Jokes

Bill Gates Jokes

I heard that Bill Gates's wedding night will be less than blissful for 
his new bride.  She will find out why his company is named Microsoft.

  For the first time in, oh, a decade, I think, something from 
Microsoft shipped on time: Jennifer Katharine Gates, weighed 
8 pounds 6 ounces when she was downloaded, er, born on Friday, 
April 26 at 6:11 p.m. 
  And what do Baby Gates and Daddy's products have in common?
Neither can stand on its own two feet without a LOT of third 
party support.

Both barf all over themselves _regularly_.

Regardless of the problem, calling Microsoft Tech Support won't help.

As they mature, we pray that they will be better than that which
preceeded them.

At first release they're relatively compact, but they seem to grow 
and grow and grow with each passing year.

Although announced with great fanfare, pretty much anyone could have
produced one.

They arrive in shaky condition with inadequate documentation.

No matter what, it takes several months between the announcement and 
the actual release.

Bill gets the credit, but someone else did most of the work.

For at least the next year, they'll suck.


Listed occupation as "Most Beneficent Boss/Chieftain/Emperor-for-Life
and Overlord of the Democracy"

Has nasty habit of rounding down to nearest 100 million 

Wrote off $10 spent at Supercuts as professional expense 

Charitable contribution: $150 million to the "Save Steve Jobs's 
Job Foundation"

Claimed some guy named "Bob" as a dependent 

Filing for an extension--lost tax return when MS Money crashed

Itemized travel deduction: $1.75 to replace tie ruined by 
cream pie incident

Real first name: Darth 

Taxpayer ID contains three 6s in a row. Coincidence?

Tax on one day's capital gains is more than your annual salary

Dear Mr. Dvorak:
  Ann Landers wouldn't print this.  I have nowhere else to 
turn.  I have to get the word out. Warn other parents.  I 
must be rambling on. Let me try and explain.  It's about 
my son, Billy.  He's always been a good, normal ten year 
old boy.  Well, last spring we sat down after dinner to 
select a summer camp for Billy.  We sorted through the 
camp brochures.  There were the usual camps with swimming, 
canoeing, games, singing by the campfire -- you know.
There were sports camps and specialty camps for weight 
reduction, music, military camps and camps that specialized 
in Tibetan knot tying.  I tried to talk him into Camp 
Winnepoopoo.  It's where he went last year. (He made an
adorable picture out of painted pinto beans and macaroni).  
Billy would have none of it. Billy pulled a brochure out 
of his pocket.  It was for a COMPUTER CAMP!  We should have 
put our foot down right there, if only we had known. He left
three weeks ago.  I don't know what's happened.  He's changed.
I can't explain it. See for yourself. These are some of my 
little Billy's letters.

Dear Mom,
  The kids are dorky nerds. The food stinks. The computers 
are the only good part.  We're learning how to program.  
Late at night is the best time to program, so they let us 
stay up.
                   Love, Billy.

Dear Mom,
  Camp is O.K. Last night we had pizza in the middle of the 
night. We all get to choose what we want to drink. I drink 
Classic Coke. By the way, can you make Szechuan food?  I'm 
getting used to it now. Gotta go, it's time for the 
flowchart class.
                   Love, Billy.

P.S. This is written on a wordprocessor. Pretty swell, huh? 
 It's spellchecked too.

Dear Mom,
  Don't worry. We do regular camp stuff. We told ghost stories 
by the glow of the green computer screens.  It was real neat.  
I don't have much of a tan 'cause we don't go outside very 
often.  You can't see the computer screen in the sunlight 
anyway.  That wimp camp I went to last year fed us weird 
food too. Lay off, Mom. I'm okay, really.
                    Love, Billy.

Dear Mom,
  I'm fine. I'm sleeping enough. I'm eating enough.  This is 
the best camp ever.  We scared the counselor with some phony 
worm code.  It was real funny. He got mad and yelled.  
Frederick says it's okay. Can you send more money?  I
spent mine on a pocket protector and a box of blank diskettes.  
I've got to chip in on the phone bill.  Did you know that you 
can talk to people on a computer?  Give my regards to Dad.
                    Love, Billy.

Dear Mother,
  Forget the money for the telephone. We've got a way to not 
pay.  Sorry I haven't written. I've been learning a lot. I'm 
real good at getting onto any computer in the country.  It's 
really easy! I got into the university's in less than fifteen 
minutes.  Frederick did it in five, he's going to show me how. 
Frederick is my bunk partner.  He's really smart.  He says 
that I shouldn't call myself Billy anymore.  So, I'm not.
                    Signed, William.

Dear Mother,
  How nice of you to come up on Parents Day.  Why'd you get 
so upset? I haven't gained that much weight.  The glasses 
aren't real. Everybody wears them. I was trying to fit in.  
Believe me, the tape on them is cool. I thought that you'd 
be proud of my program. After all, I've made some money on 
it.  A publisher is sending a check for $30,000. Anyway, 
I've paid for the next six weeks of camp.  I won't be home 
until late August.
                    Regards, William.

  Stop treating me like a child.  True -- physically I am 
only ten years old. It was silly of you to try to kidnap 
me.  Do not try again. Remember, I can make your life 
miserable (i.e. - the bank, credit bureau, and government 
computers). I am not kidding.  O.K.?  I won't write again 
and this is your only warning. The emotions of this 
interpersonal communication drain me.
                    Sincerely, William.

 See what I mean? It's been two weeks since I've heard from 
my little boy. What can I do, Mr.Dvorak?  I know that it's 
probably too late to save my little Billy.  But, if by 
printing these letters you can save JUST ONE CHILD from a 
life of programming, please, I beg of you to do so.  Thank 
you very much.
                    Sally Gates, Concerned Parent

Mr. Dvorak inadequately replied:
 Come on, Sally, boys will be boys.

Al Gore, Rush Limbaugh and Bill Gates are on an airplane together
and crash. They've just gone through the gates of Heaven, and God 
is sitting on a great white throne.  God addresses Al Gore first.
  "Al, what do you believe in?"
  Al replies, "Well, I believe that the combustion engine is evil and
that we need to save the world from CFC's and that if any more freon 
is used, the whole earth will become a greenhouse and we'll all die." 
  God thinks for a second and says, "Okay, I can live with that. Come 
and sit at my left."
  God then addresses Rush Limbaugh. "Rush, what do you believe in?"
  Rush Limbaugh replies, "Well, I believe in the free enterprise
system, I believe that our leaders should be people of high moral
character, and I believe that any philanderer who raises our taxes 
should rot and burn in hell."  
  God thinks for a second and says, "Okay, fine.  Come and sit at 
my right."
  God then addresses Bill Gates.
  "Bill, what do you believe?"
  Bill Gates says, "I believe you're in my chair."

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