Why did the chicken cross the Möbius strip?
To get to the other . . . eh? Hang on . . .
A statistician is someone who tells you, when you’ve got your head in the fridge and your feet in the oven, that you’re – on average – very comfortable.
At a party for functions, ex is at the bar looking despondent. The barman says: “Why don’t you go and integrate?” To which ex replies: “It would not make any difference.”
The floods had subsided, and Noah had safely landed his ark on Mount Sinai. “Go forth and multiply!” he told the animals, and so off they went two by two, and within a few weeks Noah heard the chatter of tiny monkeys, the snarl of tiny tigers and the stomp of baby elephants. Then he heard something he didn’t recognize . . . a loud, revving buzz coming from the woods. He went in to find out what strange animal’s offspring was making this noise, and discovered a pair of snakes wielding a chainsaw.
“What on earth are you doing?” he cried. “You’re destroying the trees!”
“Well Noah,” the snakes replied, “we tried to multiply as you bade us, but we’re adders… so we have to use logs.”
A statistician gave birth to twins, but only had one of them baptised. She kept the other as a control.