"I'm divorcing my wife. I've had enough, I'm going to leave her." "Why?" "She's out every night, going to the bars in town way past midnight and I'm fed up with it". "What's she doing?" "She's looking for me!"
A woman walks into a bar. He’s very inebriated, so she stumbles to the bartender.
‟I will have a whiskey schlour!” she slurs
‟I can’t serve you ma'am, you’ve had too much.” The barkeep informs her.
Looking disgruntled, she walks out the front door. A few minutes later she walks in through the side entrance.
‟Barkeep, give me Gin and Ginger.” she hiccups.
‟As I told you before, I can’t serve you, would you like me to get you a cab?” The bartender says patiently.
Looking quizzically at the bartender, she shakes his head and stumbles out. A few minutes later she walks in the front door again.
‟Give me Blue Motorcycle!” she demands.
‟Look ma'am’ the bartender says sternly, having lost his patience, ”if you do not let me call you a cab, I’m going to have to call the police.‟
She peers at him with red, blurry eyes and mumbles, ”How many friggin' bars do you work at??‟
A horse walks into a bar. The bartender asks the horse if it's an alcoholic considering all the bars he frequents, to which the horse replies "I think not!" POOF! The horse disappears.
This is the point in time when all the philosophy students in the audience begin to giggle, as they are familiar with the philosophical proposition of Cogito ergo sum, or I think, therefore, I am.
But to explain the concept beforehand would be putting Descartes before the horse.
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A woman walks into a bar. He’s very inebriated, so she stumbles to the bartender.
‟I will have a whiskey schlour!” she slurs
‟I can’t serve you ma'am, you’ve had too much.” The barkeep informs her.
Looking disgruntled, she walks out the front door. A few minutes later she walks in through the side entrance.
‟Barkeep, give me Gin and Ginger.” she hiccups.
‟As I told you before, I can’t serve you, would you like me to get you a cab?” The bartender says patiently.
Looking quizzically at the bartender, she shakes his head and stumbles out. A few minutes later she walks in the front door again.
‟Give me Blue Motorcycle!” she demands.
‟Look ma'am’ the bartender says sternly, having lost his patience, ”if you do not let me call you a cab, I’m going to have to call the police.‟
She peers at him with red, blurry eyes and mumbles, ”How many friggin' bars do you work at??‟
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