I’m taking a few days off from blogging because I’m busy so I will leave you, as always on such occasions, with one of PooterGeek’s famously hilarious repackaged jokes.

But first, this is perhaps a good time to link to one man’s account of his attempt to go without the Net for a week:

Day 2: Today went pretty well, except that at about noon I suddenly realized I didn’t know all the lyrics to the theme song to The Facts of Life. I spent a few seconds casting about for my laptop before I remembered my plan. I was forced to spend the afternoon humming “There’s a time you gotta go to show the crow you know the pro the slow plateau the FACTS OF LIFE!” This did not endear me to service workers and passersby.

Day 3: Woke up feeling kind of … itchy. Felt surly and resentful about having to go to the window to see what the weather was like. Someone, somewhere, could be reenacting Ladyhawke with Lego figurines and I’d never know it. Have the folks at Digg tracked down 14 tips for optimizing your FeedBurner experience? HAVE THEY?

And now the obligatory joke:

World War One: A British private arrives at the front and is told by his commanding officer that there is an acute shortage of weapons so he must improvise.
“Improvise?” asks Private Wilkins.
“Yes,” begins the officer, handing him the sawn-off end of a broomstick, “This evening you will be on sentry duty. If at any time you are forced to engage the enemy you must hold this piece of wood as though it is a rifle and shout: ‘Bangity Bang Bang!'”
“Lumme,” thinks Private Wilkins, “I’m in a spot of bothersome bother and no mistake. It’s either follow the mad orders of this toff or the firing squad for me.”
He props the broom-stump against his shoulder, salutes, and heads off for his trench.

In the middle of the night a German soldier approaches through the darkness. Wilkins does his best to stay hidden, but the German sees him and raises his weapon. As a last desperate act, Wilkins lifts the broom gun and shouts, “Bangity Bang Bang!”
To the private’s amazement, his target falls to the ground, clutching his bloody chest.

The next day Wilkins is being commended by the officer for his bravery and quick thinking. He asks if he might now be given a more powerful weapon. The officer replies, “Certainly!” and hands him a tightly rolled piece of paper and a ball of string. Wilkins raises an eyebrow. “This,” explains the officer, pointing at the paper, “is your improvised bayonet. Lash it to the end of your gun. In close-quarter combat you must stick it out ahead of you and shout: ‘Stabity Stab Stab!””

The next day Wilkins and his comrades go over the top. Emboldened by his previous experience he is one of the first into battle and, to his continuing surprise, everyone he points his broom gun at falls dead at the first “Bangity Bang Bang’. As he leaps screaming into the enemy trenches he takes on half-a-dozen German troops with his paper bayonet. Shouted within earshot, the phrase “Stabity Stab Stab” is enough to wound them all mortally.

Just beyond the trench, Wilkins hears a pair of heavy German boots crashing through the undergrowth, marching forward to reinforce the line. He raises his cut-off broom stick and shouts “Bangity Bang Bang!” but the German continues, apparently unharmed. Wilkins thinks for a moment and mimes reloading his broom gun. He lifts it and cries, “Bangity Bang Bang!” again.

Still the German advances.

As soon as they are within arm’s reach of each other, Wilkins attacks with his paper bayonet: “Stabity Stab Stab!”

Nothing happens.

And, as Wilkins is crushed to death under the German’s hefty soles, the last words he hears on this earth are: “Tankity Tank Tank!”