Rules are for fools
I saw Nasreddin walking from Doherty to Hammerschlag by way of Flagstaff Hill. “Nasreddin,” I said, “That route’s way too long. You should just go through Wean.” “Exactly, everyone will be taking the shortcut.”
One day, Nasreddin saw a sign on the Cut: KEEP OFF GRASS. He picked it up and placed it on the sidewalk. Satisfied that all was right with the world, he continued with his day.
Nasreddin submitted an assignment to his professor. “This is blank?” “I didn’t know any of the answers.” “You should at least try.” “And risk introducing errors?”
Nasreddin stepped on Forbes without looking. A cyclist had to swerve around him, and yelled “Are you trying to get killed?” “No,” Nasreddin replied, “If I were trying, I would have looked first.”
It began raining as Nasreddin was crossing the Mall. Everyone sprinted for cover as he strolled casually. Someone shouted, “Aren’t you getting soaked?” “Yes.” “Then why don’t you run?” “Would the rain become slower?”
Nasreddin was with his kids at the zoo, and one of the employees ran over, yelling, “STOP! You can’t feed them that!” “Why not? They’re perfectly nutritious.” “I know. That’s why we don’t let visitors eat the penguins.”
One day, Nasreddin’s daughter got sick. His wife handed him a thermometer and said, “Take her temperature orally.” She left for a few minutes. Noticing the probe was still dry when she returned, “Why haven’t you used it yet?” “I did it orally. She said she feels about 98.”
Nasreddin entered the restaurant at 3:30. There was nobody at the desk, but a small brass sign read “PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED.” Soon, a waiter came out. “We’re closed.” “I know.” “Then why are you still here?” “I haven’t been seated.” The waiter considered this. “You’d better wait then.” Nasreddin thanked him. The restaurant reopened at 6:00 and he took his seat.