Cedarville University

Like I said in my last blog, being a blonde female philosophy major/future lawyer, there are lots of jokes I hear about all four of those categories. I’m going to relay some of them to you now, because they really are rather humorous and though some have an element of truth to them, they are mostly harmless fun.

Blonde jokes are just clearly ridiculous; there is no way blondes are any less smart than the rest of the population. I do get a little irritated with jokes insulting females, though, because I think sexism is still an issue for a lot of people, so out of respect for my fellow women, I’ll not be posting those.  Philosopher jokes, fortunately, don’t really faze us philosophers, since we tend to just laugh them off as evidence of the struggles people experience when they don’t understand all we do, and because it is rather true that philosophers are limited in the careers they can pursue. (But fortunately we don’t approach education/learning with a utilitarian attitude… wow I’m, clearly feeling a little defensive. Maye I do take these more seriously than I thought.)  Lawyer jokes are probably the closest to true, since there are a lot of unethical practices in law, but since I’m not planning on engaging in unethical practices, I don’t take them personally.

So, some jokes:

Why shouldn’t blondes have coffee breaks? It takes too long to retrain them.

What do smart blondes and UFOs have in common? You always hear about them, but never meet them.

How can you tell when a lawyer is lying? Her lips are moving.

A lawyer’s dog, running around town unleashed, heads for a butcher shop and steals a roast. The butcher goes to the lawyer’s office and asks, “if a dog running unleashed steals a piece of meat from my store, do I have a right to demand payment for the meat from the dog’s owner?” The lawyer answers, “Absolutely.” “Then you owe me $8.50. Your dog was loose and stole a roast from me today.” The lawyer, without a word, writes the butcher a check for $8.50. The butcher, having a feeling of satisfaction, leaves.
Three days later, the butcher finds a bill from the lawyer: $100 due for a consultation.

How do you get a philosopher off your porch? Pay him for the pizza.

What question do philosophers ask most frequently after graduation? Would you like fries with that?

What’s the difference between a philosopher and an engineer? About 50,000 a year.

Hope you enjoyed

Being a blonde female philosophy major planning on attending law school, I am frequently the victim of a variety of jokes.  Jokes about blondes, women, philosophers, and lawyers abound, and nobody reminds me more of this than my loving and supportive grandpa.  I’m not being sardonic when I refer to him as loving and supportive – he truly is – but he also has a teasing sense of humor (I probably inherited some aspect of that, actually) and enjoys sending jokes, particularly lawyer jokes, to me via email.  I’ve discovered a way to get even with him, though, and the following is the email I just sent him in response to his latest attack:

Dear Gramps,
I’ve been giving a lot of serious, soul-searching thought to this email and what it represents.  Considering the number of “lawyer jokes” out there, it appears it would behoove me to avoid being classified with that kind of dishonest, rather unintelligent, and otherwise despicable characters.  So I’ve decided to pursue another field. After careful consideration of my aptitudes, I’ve arrived at the following options:
1. writer,
2. actress,
3. philosopher,
4. dolphin trainer, or
5. hairdresser.
Which do you think would be the best fit for me?

Please let me know what you think, and thank you for encouraging me to give up my lifelong dream of studying and practicing law.

Your loving granddaughter,

Olivia

The truth is, I have actually entertained notions of 1, 3, and 4, even within the past week, but I’m pretty sure law is what God has me prepped for, and I really am most excited about doing that. I just wish I could see the look on Gramps’ face when he reads this

Well, the pomegranate-eating adventure was a relative success, insofar as I managed to avoid staining any clothing, but I didn’t actually enjoy the seeds all that much. My roommate ended up eating the second half of it for me.  I liked them, but they were just too stinking much work for a little flavor. And though the flavor was good, it was nothing terribly exceptional, I thought. I like mangoes and guavas and pineapples and kiwis and bing cherries and peaches and strawberries more, probably. Anyway, just thought I’d follow up on that, let you know how it all went. I’m really glad I tried it, though – I have been wanting to eat a pomegranate ever since I read about Persephone.