Math Jokes

My Favourite Math Jokes

There are a LOT of math jokes out there, but I thought I'd like to collect my favourites together, if for nothing more than my own benefit. I am re-telling them as best as I can remember, but perhaps one day I will add sources (or speculation).

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BAR JOKES

Infinitely many mathematicians walk into a bar.

The first orders a beer; the second orders half a beer; the third, a quarter; an eighth... Before the next can even open her mouth, the bartender says, "You're all idiots!" and pours two beer.

Hidden joke: A good bartender always cuts you off before you reach your limit!

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Three mathematicians walk into a bar.

...

You'd think the second one would have ducked.

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STORIES
great for speaking aloud


The Really Shitty Hotel

For some reason, a Mathematician, a Physicist and an Engineer have to share a room for the night, but the only place available is a very shady hotel on the wrong side of town. But since there's nothing else, they bunk there.

It's a really shitty hotel. Partway through the night, a fire breaks out in a corner of the room, and for some reason, only the Engineer wakes up. She says, "Oh shit, a fire!" and looks about the room. She sees a garbage can, picks it up, dumps it out, fills it with water, dumps the water on the flame. Sure enough, the flame goes out. She then pours douses the ashes for good measure, and promptly goes back to sleep.

It's a really shitty hotel. A couple hours later, another fire breaks out in another corner of the room, and for some reason, only the Physicist wakes up. She says, "Oooh-hoo-hoo, a fire!" and takes out some instruments, a calculator and starts measuring the flame and garbage can and calculating. She fills the garbage can three-quarters (plus or minus a tenth) full of water and dumps it on the flame. Sure enough, the flame goes out, and she promptly goes back to sleep.

It's a really shitty hotel. A couple hours later, another fire breaks out in another corner of the room, and for some reason, only the Mathematician wakes up. She rubs her eyes and squints and says, "Ooh-hoo-hoo, a problem! Let's see now..." She looks around the room. "A-ha! A garbage can!" She picks it up and inspects it for holes. Finding none, she rushes to the bathroom. "Let's see, let's see." She turns on the faucet and water flows out. "A-ha!" she exclaims, "there exists a solution to the problem!" and promptly goes back to sleep.

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A mad scientist wanted to freshen his stock of brains, so he went to his local dealer. Lawyers' brains were on sale for $50/kg. Doctors' were $90/kg. Further down the aisle, he saw that Mathematicians' brains were an astounding $5000/kg.

He asked the clerk why this was.

The clerk replied, "Are you kidding me? Do you KNOW how many mathematicians it takes to get a kilo of brains??"

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Train Ride
(This one is great for telling aloud, just make sure to make the "knock-knock" gesture, too!)

There's this convention over in the next city, so a group of mathematicians and a group of engineers have to share a train together. And mathematicians and engineers don't get along very well. As they're all boarding, some mathematicians notice that, out of all the engineers, only one of them has a ticket. Of course, all the mathematicians have their tickets. And the mathematicians start laughing: "Those stupid engineers! They're going to get booted off the train!"

At this time, an engineer comes running down the train, shouting, "Guys, the guard's coming; he's coming to check our tickets!" All the engineers pile into one bathroom. The guard comes along and checks each mathematician's ticket: "Ticket please!" The guard goes up to the engineers' bathroom and knocks--knock, knock. "Ticket please!" One ticket comes out. The guard stamps it; it goes back in.

And the mathematicians' minds are totally blown--what a good idea! They decide to copy it for the ride home. So, on the way back, out of all the mathematicians, only one has a ticket. Out of all the engineers, not one of them has a ticket! And the mathematicians start laughing: "Those stupid engineers! They're going to get booted off the train!"

At this time, a mathematician comes running down the train, shouting, "Guys, the guard's coming; he's coming to check our tickets!" All the mathematicians pile into one bathroom--all the engineers pile into another bathroom. The last engineer, before going into the bathroom, goes over to the mathematicians' bathroom and knocks--knock, knock.

("Ticket please!")

---

Careers

Two young students, both very good at math, realise they don't know what they want to do when they grow up, so they decide to see a guidance counselor.

"We don't know what to do when we grow up, but we're very good at problem-solving!"

The guidance counselor happens to have the perfect test for them. The test consists of two parts.

The first student is brought into a room, and in the room is: a table, a kettle sitting on the table, and a stove. The problem is this: boil the water in the kettle. "Well that's stupid," the student says, but he picks up the kettle off the table, places it on the stove, turns the stove on, and in a few minutes, the water boils.

The second student performs the same test with the same results.

"Excellent," the guidance counselor says, "you both passed the first part. Now for the second."

The first student is brought back into the same room, only now, the kettle is sitting on the floor. "WTF?" the student says, but he picks up the kettle off the floor, places it on the stove, turns the stove on, and in a few minutes, the water boils.

The second student is then brought into the room. He stares at the kettle which is now sitting on the floor. "Hey," he says, "this looks familiar..." He walks around, viewing the kettle from a different angle; he's very obviously thinking hard. "Wait a second," he says. He picks the kettle up off the floor, places it on the *table* and exclaims, "Aha, a problem I have already solved!" He then picks the kettle up off the table, places it on the stove, turns the stove on, and in a few minutes, the water boils.

The two students report back to the counselor. "How'd we do?" they ask.

The counselor turns to the first student. "You can be an engineer," the counselor says proudly, "because, when faced with a new problem, you found a unique and practical solution!" The first student beams and goes away. "You, however," the counselor says to the second student, "will only be a mathematician, because you can only reduce problems to ones you've already solved."

---

Renee Descartes walks into his favourite bar and takes a seat. The bartender asks, "Will you have your usual today?" Renee Descartes ponders a moment.

"I think not," he replied--and promptly vanished.

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Talking to Mathematicians

Q: How can you tell when the person talking to you is a mathematician?
A: He looks at his shoes.

Q: How can you tell when the mathematician talking to you is an extrovert (ie: outgoing)?
A: He looks at *your* shoes.

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Theorem:
All positive numbers are interesting.

Proof:
Assume the contrary. Then there exists a lowest non-interesting positive number. But, hey, that's pretty interesting! (A contradiction.)

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I used u for
∫ e^x dx.
At the time, it felt right, but it was so wrong

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Q: What did the successful mathematician do when she got constipated?
A: She worked it out with a pencil.

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"Let epsilon be a large negative number..."

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MATH/ART/SCIENCE SLASH

"What're you doing?"
"Oh, just curve sketching..."
"... Are those nipples?"

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Said the portrait artist to the physicist, "What a coincidence! I'm studying black bodies, too!"

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NERD LOVE AND PICK-UP LINES

"I'd love to be one-to-one and onto you."

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"Come be my epsilon-neighbourhood!"
(give me a hug :3 )

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"Hey there, wanna find my points of inflection?"

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"Wanna hold my z constant?"

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"Can I take your derivative--cuz I'd love to lie tangent to your curves."

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"Let me be your secant, cuz I'd love to touch your two points."
ALTERNATIVELY
"Can I be your secant--I don't think I could just touch you once."

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"I bet I can fill your concavities."

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"I've got something you can integrate."

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"Baby, I can last all night, just let me do it once and once more."

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"Baby, I got the perfect gift for you, it just won't fit in the margin that's all!"

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"Hey, I got some great ideas for that Three Body Problem."

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"Hey, I gots a bit of a Sphere Packing problem here..."

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"Wanna see my tight closures?"


...more to follow as I think of them, will tag under "jokes".

Catching up

A lot has happened since my last post. For starters...

• finished my training in Kingston, ON
  
• broke up with JM, got back together, broke up, got back together, and finally in December 2009 broke up for the last time.
  
• met Olek in Calculus, started seeing each other casually, then as we got to know each other through the next few months, fell in love. It's a long and complicated story for me to tell. Maybe in another post. But together we're now the happiest we've ever been.
  
• got a job at a Tim Hortons working overnights, until I can go to Kingston again in July
  
• ...

post from 3 June 2010
Feet

Summer of 2009, I went to Kingston, Ontario for my Apprenticeship training as a Signals Operator. It was four months of good, hard work. Towards the beginning of the last month, we had a short navigation exercise in place of our usual ruck march. I had two teammates, JP from Alberta and PE from PEI (strangely). One person would be the Radio person, carrying the radio, making radio checks, that sort of thing. Another would be the Navigator, leading the rest of us. And the last person was deemed the Safety person, making sure everyone got water/shade.

The Radio person would carry the radio in their rucksack. To make things easier, we swapped rucksacks.

Now, PE is a pretty humble (maybe even simple) but strong/convicted person. If something makes sense to him, it's sort of absolute in his mind. If it doesn't make sense, it doesn't really matter, so long as he knows what to do. I think we decided to put the radio into JP's or my ruck. We had three rucks: Radio, EP's and Spare (either mine or JP's, I can't remember). To switch up the roles, we would just switch rucks.

For one branch, I carried EP's, and it was entirely too heavy. I know mine was just a hair under the requirement of, I think, 11kg. I can't guess how heavy his ruck was, but 11kg was just right for me, being a rather petite Chinese girl. His was too heavy for me, and that should have been the end of discussion right there. I should have demanded we switch the radio, but I didn't. However, partway through the route, I asked to take a break.

I think JP was navigating at the time. He said no, so that we could make good time. I then asked if we could walk slower. Again, he said no. And since I didn't draw the line earlier, I should have drawn it there. But there's something about the military attitude that tells you anything less is weakness and weakness doesn't belong.

I don't know why. Nobody takes me seriously. Maybe I trust too easily.

So we continued, and I fell behind. JP and PE would stop periodically and encourage me to hurry up.

After the navigation exercise was the Battle Fitness Test (13km ruck march in 2hr 26min wearing 24.5kg; then fireman-carry a soldier of similar height/weight for 100m in 60s; then shovel out a box of gravel into another box [roughly 2m by 1m and less than 1m deep] in 6min).

Aside
I just finished reading this blog entry about a navy PO doing a BFT.

"The pain to an extent, the mental discipline of ignoring the pain, the running, the walking, countering the increasing desire to quit, counting breaths, were all variable within my realm of control. Leg spasms and Charlie-horses, however, were outside of that realm of control and threatened to ruin everything."

That's something I can really appreciate. It's not just the physical exertion, but the mental exertion to block out the pain and keep going and refusing to quit. I've done two BFTs in my life so I can't tell you if it gets harder or easier.

And after the BFT was the 2-week field training exercise (FTX).

That was the hardest month of my life, physically. And I wasn't sure how my relationship with JM would survive. (There's another story for another day, the story of Andre, a man I met in Kingston. Thinking about him and how he'd impacted my life helped me through that month.)

I managed to get to the base hospital once after the FTX and spoke with a nurse of sorts. She told me I had a "metatarsal drop". Basically, there's an arch where our toes join our feet, sort of like the undersides of our knuckles on our hands. And that arch is what absorbs impact first when our feet touch the ground. But for my left foot, one of those toe bones had fallen out of the arch, so that now, all that impact would go on that one knuckle-joint. She asked how old I was, and then recommended I get out of the military. I wanted to scream.

Fortunately, she did give me some spongy cushions to put in my shoes. It might help, she said. Maybe.

Thankfully, they worked, though they were so awkward to use, that I only wore them every second day, and that worked out fine in Kingston.

After




post from 7 Feb 2010
Math

I feel like I'm going through a sort of second adolescence.

When I was a teenager growing up, I was trying to figure out who I was. Now, I have a clearer idea of who I am, but I'm not so sure where I will fit into society.

I guess this started a few days ago when I went to talk to a program advisor on campus. I thought I was taking the correct courses, but turns out I'm not. So I'll have to change my program, maybe. If I'm lucky, they'll let me use my current courses.

I talked to a Math Advisor, who happened to be my Multivariable Calc professor! I told him I'm not certain what I like to do with Math or where even I could be employed in the future.

(I must pause for a moment to address this: In my mind, it seems very clear that I'm going to marry Olek, he'll be an Actuary and I'll be--whatever I'll be--so he can ring in all that money and I could potentially be a career housewife. It's an interesting image to have so clear in my mind...)

As I was talking to my prof, I mentioned that I love Math but don't terribly enjoy working with numbers. He remarked that it wasn't so uncommon as those who love literature but dislike spelling. I said I might have been interested in going into either Academia or Pure Math, except that I'd need to be much better at it. And then he said something that sobered me up:

"If you're the kind of person who wakes up with a problem you came up with that night, and decides to spend all day solving it, and enjoy every moment of it, then maybe Academia is for you. But then you're competing with hundreds of people just like that, and you'll have to be the best of those. Then you move onto Graduate Studies, and you'll have to be the best of those. Then you go to find employment and--do you see where I'm going with this?"

I may have the love of math, but I don't have this competitiveness.

I've also had to come to terms with an unusual presupposition I've had. I've had to finally realise that I am, in fact, not a prodigy. I'm not specially gifted at any one thing. Instead, I am somewhat gifted in several areas.


Dad told me a Chinese fable. Here's what I recall from it:

One cannot look at two things and see both clearly.

One cannot listen to two things and hear both clearly.

In the animal kingdom, there is an animal [a lizard, I think] with no talents except one. He cannot run or jump or swim, but he can fly. Yet, in the animal kingdom, there is an animal with five talents. He thinks he is so smart, that when a predator comes, he can do any of these five things to get away. Yet when the predator comes, he cannot decide quickly enough and is eaten anyway. But the other animal, the one that is so dumb that he can only do one thing, when the predator comes for him, he does the one thing he knows how to do and flies away.

I get the point.

I think I'll go into education. It's a humble profession, but I'm not a terribly humble person. I always want to teach everything--I want to tell everyone everything... I always assume everyone wants to know the things I know. But that isn't always so, and I gotta learn that.

Though I might just work consultation... Or any odd-job, really...

"People who are good at math are often good problem-solvers. And some employers just look for that," my prof had said, "not just at the degree."

I wouldn't just be doing math at my job... My prof said that there's a shortage of science teachers... I wonder if I can fill that role...

For Education, I'd need two "teachable" subjects... Math and...?
Comp Sci (I already have some credits...)
Physics (that would be a BITCH to get a degree in...)
Art (if there's no one else)
Music (if there's no one else)
English (a degree I really don't want to have to get)



So, now to think who I'll be to the world...


It's so strange--I mean, I'm so young... And I've found someone whom I want to be in my life--the rest of my life... I want to make him waffles for breakfast, exchange kisses on our way to work, eat last night's leftovers for lunch, come home to each other, make dinner together, exchange stories about how our respective days went, eat together, maybe have a drink and relax and fall asleep together.

...post abandoned

Wax

My life has been ENTIRELY TOO INTERESTING lately, but I took a break today. And this is all I want to talk about:

Brazilian Wax

So, the first time I had a Brazilian wax was this summer while training in Kingston, ON. I went to an Aveda spa, can't remember which, and had this fantastic aesthetician work her magic on my twat (yeah, what is it about me and aestheticians?).

Then, this past October, I went to Calgary to visit friends and family. We wanted to go swimming, and I realised I'd been neglecting my kitty. I picked up some Parissa Hot Wax from the drugstore and took it to the place I was staying. Unfortunately, I was staying with my brothers, so I sneaked into the kitchen late at night, heated the wax over the stove, sneaked back to the bathroom, waxed myself, and when the wax would harden, I'd sneak back to the kitchen and repeat.

It was TERRIBLE. I guess this is why spas play relaxing music.

I had wanted to wax my armpits and give myself a full Brazilian... On my first application, I scalded my armpit skin, and applied the wax too thin, so it didn't come off entirely! It was terribly awkward!

Then I was brave or foolish enough to try my kitty. I didn't get very far. I tried maybe two applications before I couldn't bear the pain anymore. Unfortunately, I'd gotten some of the wax stuck in the other hairs, so had to pull those out by hand just so I didn't have green wax stuck to my pubes!

Overall, my first attempt with self- hot waxing was an utter failure.


However, anything that I'll try once, I'll usually try twice.

Today I felt rather adventurous, and attempted again. I had the kitchen all to myself, with no parents or siblings around. This time, I let the wax cool until about the consistency of honey before applying to my armpits. Worked like a charm. I completed both armpits with minimal resistance.

Then, I felt adventurous. I stripped further.

I guess I was more relaxed this time (and warmer, too!) so my bikini line went without much resistance, either. I felt more adventurous.

I'll admit, it felt weird putting a warm liquid substance on my twat and trying to convince myself it wasn't sexual. I did the whole procedure standing up, one leg on the kitchen counter, sometimes using one hand to pull on my butt or lips.

My labia were a little awkward. But, honestly, hot wax feels just.... Ooh, warm and wonderful on my twat. Just... Once when I was holding my lips apart, my grip slipped and my lips closed, the warm wax touching my clitoral hood. My reaction:
1. Oh, oh wow that feels nice;
2. Oh shit, that's going to hurt pulling off.

Fortunately, (and for WHATEVER REASON) the wax didn't stick, and came off easily. Yeah. Okay, enough of that.

Waxing my asscrack was a also awkward. I kept feeling around to make sure I'd gotten it all. I doubted myself once, and waxed the area again. Unfortunately, I slipped again, and my butt cheeks sandwiched the wax between them. That was difficult to remove.

At the very end, I still had maybe a half centimetre of wax left, so I decided to wax my legs, just to see what would happen (I've never waxed or shaved my legs, since the little hair I have there is also very fine). The wax was too thin sometimes and left little bits on my legs. Other than that, it would have been fine.


All in all, not a bad experience. For eight bucks, I waxed my armpits, my entire kitty, and patches of my legs. I'd definitely do this again.

Final note: if I ever decide to wax my face, I would DEFINITELY use a different wax. The popsicle-stick wooden applicators are just too clunky to get my eyebrows.

--Charlie

100

I've had some issues since this is the 100th post--I mean, I was hoping I'd have something brilliant to post, but I don't have anything particularly brilliant, and I've let that stop me for entirely too long now. So!

I've been having these issues with [who I am] and [how that relates to JM]. Because.... He has issues with my short hair and being mistaken as a guy (and thusly, we look like a gay male couple).

"Girlfriend"

I feel myself freaking out again. It's the word "girlfriend" that does it to me, I think. I really don't know why! It's just a word! "Just" a word, huh.

"Boyfriend" bugs me, too. Lover, sweetheart, my boy, my man...

These just have...images associated with them, and I don't enjoy those images. "Girlfriends" have always been this decorative creature hanging about boys' necks who are very dependent and cute but not terribly self-sufficient. And I notice that I tend that way when I think of myself as a "girlfriend". I'll get over it eventually, but in the meanwhile, I just need to get away from becoming that.


Publicity

That's another thing we've got bugging us: publicity.

I have short hair. I look like a guy--I'd guess maybe 90% of people on the street who see me think I'm a guy without a second thought, and 5% think I'm a guy and bother with a second thought. Maaaybe 5% think I'm a girl. Maybe.

So when I'm in public with JM... well, in all honesty, we were only in public for maybe two days in total, but MAN what two days!

A few incidents happened on the bus: people giggling and pointing; an old man who was outright hostile to gays ("Are you gay? You're holding hands... Michael Jackson was gay... he died..."); general snickers and odd looks; a few turned-heads when we walked down the street (IN THE GAY VILLAGE, OF ALL PLACES, but there was an event going on, so maybe there were more "foreigners").

JM has expressed his discomfort at this. It bothers him. Moreso, it bothers him that it bothers him. He doesn't understand why it bothers him so much. He said to me that he wants to get to the level of comfort that he can say, "This is Charlie, I fucking love her and I don't give a shit what anyone thinks."
(dated 5 Jul 09)

Montreal

I went to Montreal this weekend. AB and I stayed in the gay village, there's this fantastic bed and breakfast in the heart of it all; gorgeous. (The only thing that might make it better: JM.)

We went to Unity, which is a huge gay nightclub--two levels indoors (or is it three) and a terrace-type bar/smoke pit on the roof. There were also a lot of men (AB wanted more girls, who could blame her). There were *also* a lot of gay male couples.


Charlie

I've mentioned before, I'm sure, but there's a part of me that's definitely, undeniably masculine, and I'm suspecting there may be part of me that's actually, well, male.

Aside: Coursemates

Two of the girl coursemates think it's so sad that, at the age of 20, I'm confused about who I am. I guess it is sad, but no sadder than anything else, I think. I just wanted to put this out there while it's on my mind, because one of those girls is not worth my time.

I remember when I first came to Kingston and JM and I would chat for hours and we were under the agreement that four months is a LONG time and whatever happens, well, happens. I remember thinking he ought to find a man while I'm gone, because a gay man could give him more pleasure than I could (well, even if I were physically with JM).

And I wonder... What if tomorrow I woke up and I had a penis? What if tomorrow I woke up and my body was male? What would change? Anything? ... Well. JM's already seen me naked, so I guess some things would change. Aside from freaking out and wanting to get medical attention and figure out wtf just happened, if I decided this was a gift from God and wanted to stay in that body... then what? Some things would be different (penetration for one thing) but I'd also be able to practice what I'd do to him, on myself.

Aside from sex, what would change? Image...


JM, again

He's such a sweetie. He's an intellectual--which is awesome!--and he's not shy/introverted--which is so rare, he's definitely a keeper--which balances my social shyness and awkwardness quite well. He has some traditional/classical views, he's chivalrous (he bought me a dozen red roses when I went Home to visit for a week), but he's very, very open and comfortable about his sexuality and can be very forward.


...post abandoned


post from 5 Jul 09
Dream

I had this dream last night, and I've had it at home, too.

I'm walking with a friend (AB last night, and someone else the other time) through downtown at night, and we're trying to find a place or go somewhere. We end up in a building, it's very tall with lots of glass windows, glass automatic doors and escalators. There's also a lot of security: cameras, sensors, that sort of thing, because it's got some classified stuff inside.

My friend asks something like, "Are we there yet?" or "Where is it?" so I take lead and start navigating through the escalators (we're usually going downward) and automatic doors, careful of the security. Suddenly, an alarm goes off, and I book it to the outside, ground level. The dream ends when I'm outdoors.


Interpretations?

I'm not sure! When I hear that alarm, I panic and just bolt. I've always thought it was my friend who accidentally set off the alarm and I just want to get away from him/her and any trouble. Were we not supposed to go through that building? I'm not sure! Maybe.

I'm actually really not sure.


...post abandoned