Nothing. That’s why the second half of Sartre’s book is so funny. (That’s what’s funnier – bad philosophy jokes. And maybe lightbulb jokes. This means the best joke ever would be a lightbulb and philosophy joke involving a pun.) Here’s one.

When I turned 18 I went away to college. My grandma gave me a going away present, a pet frog. I named her Rosie. What a lot of people don’t know, what my grandma didn’t know, and I didn’t know, is that frogs are long lived animals. They’re not like mice or something that just dies right away. They live a long time. And when you live with a pet a long time you get emotional. Let’s just say it really upset me when that frog croaked.

No, seriously, it upset me a lot. It would croak all night! I couldn’t get any sleep! I was so tired all the time, I couldn’t stay awake in my classes. I failed out of college. My grandma was very upset. She’d given me Rosie because Rosie reminded grandma of one of the happiest times in her life, when she worked in a factory during the second world war. She was a ribbeter.

Get it? A ribbeter? Rosie the ribbeter? Don’t you people know anything about history?

(This then segues into the Oppenheimer joke.)


EDIT: I got a copy of the Pretty Good Joke Book as a belated birthday gift yesterday. It’s awesome (making the title misleading) and has sparked a bit of joke writing.

Three off color jokes.

Why did the buttock try to move to a new place? Because his neighbor was an asshole.

What did one testicle say to the other? I like working with you, but the other guy is a dick.

What do you get if you breed a child with a dog? Prison sentence, if you get caught. You disgust me.

And one that’s not off color:

Why should you not go to a sheep for help with a problem? Because sheep give baaaad advice.