Who was very rarely stable.
[Johnny Carson] I did not know that. Weird, wild, wacky shtuff [/Johnny Carson]
But I did know about Rene Descartes being a bloody fart who could drink you under the table.
G’day, Bruce.
Nietzsche was peachy, but Satre was smatre.
Several years of philosophy in college, and that’s all I remember.
Who’s the new Bruce, Bruce?
Meh. They got nuthin’ on poor Neitzsche. (Kierkegaard running a close second, I think).
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could think you under the table
Actually, no.
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart
“I drink, therefore I am”
Camus can do, but Immanuel Kant. (Psst. It’s usually spelled ‘pietzche.’ ;))
David Hume could out-consume Schopenhauer and Hegel,
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine who was just as schloshed as Schlegel.
(If this damn song’s still in my head an hour from now I’m setting this place on fire.)
Aristotle, Aristotle was a beggar for the bottle, Hobbes was fond of his dram;
and Rene Descarte was a drunken fart; “I drink therefore I am”.
There’s nothing Nietzsche couldn’t teach ya 'bout the raising of the wrist
(and I’ve heard that Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed).
No poofters!
Rule #1: NO POOFTERS!
Rule #2: No member of the faculty of to maltreat the Abbos in any way whatsoever… if there’s anyone watching.
Rule #3: NO POOFTERS!
Rule #4: I don’t want to catch anyone here NOT drinking in their room after lights out.
Rule #5: NO POOFTERS!
Rule #6: There is NO rule 6
Rule #7: NO POOFTERS!
That concludes the reading of the rules, Bruce.
Plato, they say, could stick it away, half a crate of whiskey every day.
Stranger
Descartes walked into a bar and sat down. The bartender came over and asked him if he wanted a beer. Descartes said, “I think not,” and disappeared.
“Frankly, we find your American beer is a little like making love in a conoe”
“Making love in a canoe?”
“It’s fucking close to water.”
:sings boisterously:
Aaaaaaaand Socrates himself is particularly missed…
Aaaaaa lovelylittlethinker but a bugger when he’s pissed!
G’day all.
John Stuart Mill, of his own free will, on half a pint of shandy was particularly ill. Or so I hear.
I snuck into my philosophy professor’s class one day and copied this song onto his chalkboard. He had no sense of humor; didn’t even crack a smile.
“Popeye” Descartes
“I yamm what I yamm”.
toot-toot!!!