Mathematical Humor

A young Math PhD got a job at a research facility.  His boss took him on a tour of the facility.  Nearing lunchtime, he showed him to the cafeteria.  As they entered, his boss yelled out, “47!”  Everyone in the room laughed uproariously.  Minutes later, another man entered, and shouted, “13!”  Again, everyone laughed.

Curious, the newbie asked what was going on.  His boss explained that most of the staff had worked together so long, that they had reduced their jokes to numbers, to save time.  The next day, as he was entering the cafeteria, he bellowed, “Negative four.”  The room dissolved in hilarity.  He looked questioningly at his boss.  “I was just kidding.  Why all the mirth?”  The boss replied, “They’ve never heard that one before.”

***

On a chilly Halloween night, a woman goes to the door to find a single tween boy.  He doesn’t have much of a costume, just street clothes, and an odd hat.   She asks him what he is supposed to be. He replies that he is a pirate.  That explains the hat, but he’s alone, so she says, “Where are your buccaneers?”  He tells her, “Under my buckin’ hat.”

***

A Jewish grandmother is giving directions to her grown grandson who is coming to visit with his wife.

“You come to the front door of the apartment. I am in apartment 301.   There is a big panel at the front door. With your elbow, push button 301.  I will buzz you in. Come inside, the elevator is on the right.  Get in, and with your elbow, push 301. When you get out, I’m on the left. With your elbow, hit my doorbell.”

“Grandma, that sounds easy, but, why am I hitting all these buttons with my elbow?

………”What. …. .. You’re coming empty handed?”

***

Why Italian Fathers and Grandfathers pass their handguns down through the family.

An old Italian man is dying. He calls his grandson to his bedside, Guido,   I wan’ you lissina me. I wan’ you to take-a my chrome plated .38 revolver so you will always remember me.””But grandpa, I really don’t like guns… How about you leave me your Rolex watch instead?”

“You lissina me, boy. Somma day you gonna be runna da business, you gonna have a beautiful wife, lotsa money, a big-a home and maybe a couple   of bambinos. Somma day you gonna come-a home and maybe finda youa wife inna bed with another man.  Whatta you gonna do then? Pointa to you watch and say, ‘times up’ “?

***

An attractive blonde from Cork, Ireland, arrived at the casino. She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty thousand dollars in a single roll of the dice.

She said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I feel much luckier when I’m completely nude.”
With that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and with an Irish brogue yelled, “Come on, baby, Mama needs new clothes!”

As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed. “Yes! Yes! I won, I won!” She hugged each of the dealers, picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed.

The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded.

Finally, one of them asked, “What did she roll?”

The other answered, “I don’t know – I thought you were watching.”

MORAL OF THE STORY

Not all Irish are drunks, not all blondes are dumb,

…… but all men…are men!

***

COLONOSCOPY IN SAN FRANCISCO

Being nervous, and embarrassed about my up-coming colonoscopy, on a recommendation, I decided to have it done while visiting friends in San Francisco where the beautiful nurses are allegedly more gentle and accommodating.  As I lay naked on my side on the table, the gorgeous nurse began my procedure.

“Don’t worry, at this stage of the procedure it’s quite normal to get an erection,” the nurse told me.

“I haven’t got an erection,” I replied.

“I have,” replied the nurse.

Don’t get a colonoscopy in San Francisco

***

A young Arab boy asks his father, “What is that weird hat you are wearing?”

The father said, “Why, it’s a ‘chechia’ because in the desert it protects our heads from the intense heat of the sun.”
“And what is this type of clothing that you are wearing?” asked the young man.
“It’s a ‘djbellah’ because in the desert it is very hot and it protects the body,” said the father.
The son asked, “And what about those ugly shoes on your feet?”
His father replied, “These are ‘babouches’ which keep us from burning our feet from hot sand in the desert.”
“So tell me then,” added the boy.
“Yes, my son?”
“Why are you living in Dearborn Michigan and still wearing all this shit??!

***

’21 A To Z Challenge – I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, let me tell you about Ahab the Arab.  Or you could just click on that title, and let Crazy Ray Stevens tell the story.

Ahab claims that he snuck into Fatima’s tent, and….

There he saw Fatima layin’ on a zebra skin rug with Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes and a bone in her nose ho, ho.  There she was, friends, lyin’ there in all her radiant beauty, eating on a raisin, grape, apricot, pomegranate, bowl of chitterlin’s, two bananas, three Hershey bars, sipping on a RC co-cola listenin’ to her transistor, watchin’ the Grand Ole Opry on the tube, readin’ a Mad Magazine while she sung, “Does your chewing gum lose it’s flavor? “Ahab doesn’t mention me being there, but I was.  I was giving Fatima lessons in being

INDOLENT

Having or showing a disposition to avoid exertion; slothful:
inactive or relatively benign:
slow, inactive, sluggish, torpid.

Maybe Ahab figured that I was a eunuch.  Perhaps he thought that I was just another overstuffed pillow.  It’s hard – literally – being indolent on a zebra-skin rug.  The sand underneath is very unforgiving, and it gets into some uncomfortable places.  I said to Fatima, right after she got back from giving the Sultan a lube job, that we were in Persia – try to get the Great Camel-Chaser to provide some softer Persian rugs.

There was a lot more fruit in that bowl before Fatima got back.  If I’m going to be obese, I’m going to do it the healthy way.  Chocolate is bad for my complexion, and R C Cola???!!….  They say that Coke can be used to remove rust from cars, but the government should stockpile    R C Cola in case some of the UFOs they are studying turn out to be extraterrestrial.  A high-velocity spray of that stuff can repulse aliens, and destroy their craft.

COVID shutdowns are finally being relaxed.  I’m not quite as relaxed about that, but Oktoberfest is on its way, and I’m practicing my impersonation of Roll Out The Barrel.  I’ll trundle back over and publish another fascinating post on Wednesday – right after I snitch another fig from that bowl.  😉

Once Upon A Time In The Mid-East

Once upon a time in the mid-east…. things haven’t really changed much, only gotten more so.

Many moons ago, I worked as a security guard.  One of my co-workers was a man even older than me.  As a young man, just after World War II, he had traveled to England to take advantage of the burgeoning British post-war economy, to get a job.  Instead, he enlisted in the British Army, and was attached to the British Palestine Peacekeeping Force.  Their job was to prevent violence, and protect the newly-minted state of Israel.

Many Jews had lived in what became Arab Territory.  Either voluntarily, or under political pressure, they were convinced to leave farms and lands that they had worked and lived on for generations, and move inside the imaginary boundary-line of Israel, into imaginary safety, and start all over again.

He said that, as they patrolled around in Palestine, it was easy to see who had occupied the properties.  Jewish farms were green and lush with fruit, grain and vegetables.  They had bright homes and barns, and greenhouses to get new crops started.  Arab homesteads were dusty and brown, with perhaps a scrawny goat wandering around.

Did the Muslims who were leaving Israel take possession of these ready-made sources of shelter, food and income??  They did not!!  Usually the homes and outbuildings were burned, the greenhouses torn down, all the glass smashed.  The patrol was supposed to be neutral, but he said that it was difficult not to have sympathy, and side with the people who tried to build things up, rather than the hooligans who just wanted to tear things down.

One day they were called out to a problem.  They were trucked to a nearby Arab village near the new border.  They debarked, and marched into the village square/market.  There they came upon a small clot of idlers, with more drifting in.  As in my StOp! Ed post, the local imam or mullah was working the mob up, to march to the nearest Jewish settlement and attack.  Knives, machetes, clubs, slings, rocks, and bottles were in evidence.

My co-worker recounted that, in English, and in his best brash British bluster, the Sergeant-Major commanding the squad, waved his hands as if shooing flies, and told them that ‘You chappies ought to just break this up now, and get on with your business somewhere else.’

He got back the equivalent of, ‘No speakee English, you Tommy Brit invaders.’, so he went to plan B, and literally read them the Riot Act.  For those of you who think that being read the Riot Act is just a euphemism for your Mom coming down on you, think again.  There is an actual British Riot Act.  The solemnity of having it read to potential rioters is supposed to make them think twice about causing trouble.

Our Sovereign Lord The King chargeth and commandeth all persons, being assembled, immediately to disperse themselves, and peaceably depart to their habitations, or to their lawful business, upon the pains contained in the Act made in the first year of King George the First for preventing tumults and riotous assemblies.

God Save The King

The rules state that it must be read three times, before any official violence is unleashed.  The SarMaj read the ponderous paragraph of it once in English.  Then, because some of the miscreants might be Jewish, he read it in Hebrew.  Then he read it in Arabic.  Then he circled around and read it again in all three languages.

All this time, the crowd is growing in size, and the mood is getting nastier.  Knives are waved at them, and small fake sorties are threatened.  Finally, he got the Act read three times in three languages, and ordered them in Arabic to disperse.

Wasn’t gonna happen, so he started giving the squad, orders.  Present arms!  The Arabs watched.  Insert cartridges!  They slapped magazines into their Lee-Enfield rifles. (They’d been unarmed all this time.)  The Arabs waited.  Charge weapons! Rifle bolts back, and then forward to cock. (Now they’re finally ready for action.) The Arabs wondered.  And, the SarMaj shouted, At the knees, aim!

He said that, by the time he got his rifle up to his shoulder, and his eyes on the sights, a single piece of paper, and dust, was settling to the ground.  The little plaza was empty.  Maybe some of them understood English, or just understood superior firepower.

Sadly, nowadays, little altercations like this happen much faster and more violently.  The Gentlemanly British rules of war have been replaced by Kill Or Be Killed.  Perhaps they were what Mr. Ed, the talking horse’s ass was thinking about.

Peace Through Stupidity

Some years ago, shortly after Kitchener built its new (third) City Hall, I had cause to be walking in front of it. On the sidewalk were two earnest-looking young men, with a folding plastic table covered with papers.  Curious to see what was attracting a small group of people, I ambled over.

They were looking for signators for a petition to the Federal Government of Canada, for “Unilateral Nuclear Weapons Disarmament.” The woman beside me grabbed a pen and quickly filled in name, address, phone number and signed it.  Then she stuck the pen in my face, and said, “Here, sign!  It’s a really good idea.”

“I don’t really think so.” “Why not?” she demanded.  “Well, first of all, while Canada has nuclear power plants, we do not have nuclear weapons, or heavy bombers or ICBMs to deliver them.  Also, I don’t think it’s a good idea for ‘us’ to give ours up, if ‘the other guy’ doesn’t give his up.”  She replied, “That’s what this is all about.”

“No, the petition is for UNILATERAL action.  That means that we do, but they don’t.”  Almost crying, she blurted, “That’s not right!”  “No, it isn’t, but that’s what you were in such a hurry to sign up for.” and I watched the crowd dwindle before walking away.

After an 18-month hiatus, caused by a poor choice of restaurant, I recently attended a relocated Free Thinkers’ Sunday brunch. Somehow, they were conned into allowing a World Peace representative to give a ‘little’ talk.  He promised that it would be just a 15-minute AV presentation, but maundered on for over half an hour, killing most of my chances to interact with the other attendees.

First he attacked NATO. Up until 1991, they were a defense against Russia, and the Communist Bloc.  When they lost their raison d’etre, they just became big bullies, and spread out all over the world.  Now they were in Africa, and Asia, invading countries.

Then he segued to the United States, another big bully. The American General who was the liaison to NATO was recalled to the Pentagon.  How our mumbler would know this, I don’t know, but he told the possibly apocryphal story that, on his first morning, NATO guy was approached by another, excited General, who asked if he’d heard “The Plan” yet.

It seems that there was a list of 7 countries that the US would invade over the following 5 years.  He couldn’t seem to keep his facts and/or accusations straight.  First he claimed that they were to be invaded for their oil, then it became just so that America could show its power, and control them.

It turned out that the US only went into 6 of the 7. I don’t know or care who produces oil, but I’m sure of one, and suspicious of another, that they don’t.  Of course, that still leaves him his ‘bully excuse.’

Then he turned on Israel. The US didn’t need to invade, because they already controlled it.  I was going to ask how much oil Israel had, but I remembered that, also about 1991, the Prime Minister of Israel complained, “The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years, and when Moses finally led them to their promised land, he picked the one spot in the region with no oil under it.”  And then, a couple of years later, a bit of oil was discovered offshore of their north-western tip.

If the Jews would just ignore those guys in the Gaza, who threw 18,000 rockets at them, and hid behind women and children, all would be peaceful. The Arabs pushed the Jews out of the region in a diaspora, centuries ago, but when the United Nations gave them back a little bit of territory, he felt sorry for the displaced Palestinians, and could support them in their frustration when they promised to use violence to push the Jews back into the sea.

It didn’t even surprise me when he became an apologist for North Korea, going through Libya and Iran to get there. Peter Paranoid Peacenik claimed that both Muammar Khadafy and Saddam Hussein had been threatened by the US, to give up their weapons of mass destruction.  They had given them up, and America had still invaded, and ruined both countries.  Kim Young Psychopath looks at this and sees what happens to countries that disarm, and decides to keep his nuclear weapons – strictly for peaceful protection.

Neither Khadafy nor Hussein, quietly, peacefully or obediently, gave up their weapons of mass destruction.  Libya didn’t even have them.  What they had, were training camps for terrorists, to spread death and mayhem among the Western, Christian countries.  Libya provided money, food, weapons, training and false documents, until a coalition of countries used bombers to convince Khadafy that it was not a good idea.

While Hussein didn’t have the WMDs that George W. was led to believe he had, he very un-peacefully used regular weapons to invade Kuwait, and set fire to hundreds of oil wells, before the United Nations-led coalition forced the Iranians out.

It’s difficult to understand how someone like this could acquire and justify these points of view. Is it ‘White Man’s Burden’, or is it just wishful thinking and terminal stupidity?  The pacifist, Neville Chamberlain returned to England from Berlin in 1938, claiming to have achieved “Peace for our time”, but instead, embroiled most of the Western World in 6 years of nasty war.

‘We,’ – our countries, our militaries, our politicians – are far from perfect (and Donald Trump is pushing the envelope), but I’d far sooner live with/under them, because I can live with them, and not be exterminated simply for having the wrong race, religion or skin color.  I’m not stupid.  🙄