After I had a minor accident, the ER nurse asked my mother for my height and weight, and I blurted out, “Five-foot-eight, 125 pounds.”


While the nurse pondered over this information, my mother leaned over to me. “Sweetheart,” she gently chided, “this is not the Internet.”


What’s O. J. Simpson’s Internet address? Slash, slash, backslash, slash, slash, escape.


Can you show me how to use the Internet? I d better – otherwise you will just go round and round in circles.


Who’s the chief of the internet? E-ronimo!


Does your mum like shopping on the Internet? No, the trolley keeps rolling off the top of the computer.


Do you think we can make it a step more serious and disable network sharing? YouTube Myspace and I’ll Google your Yahoo


won’t stop bugging you until I get the address to your home page!
Roses are #FF0000, violets are #0000FF. All my base are belong to you.
Baby you know this shit isn’t’s firewire!
Do you like the internet? Cause I can put you on there if you come back to my place. Is your name google? (Why?) Because you have exactly what I’m looking for!


How’d you like to come to MySpace so I can Twitpic your Yahoo until you tweet my Tumblr and I Google all over your Facebook!


I wish you were DSL so I could get high speed access