Perkins And Malts
So Kamran, Erin and I went to Perkins for some tasty malts.
And we received some stares in the place, seeing an man of arab descent, a Goth, and a non-descript chubby northern minnesotan all sitting togeter.
It started off a funny joke:
A goth, a Philosophy student, and a Lutheran walk into Perkins…
turns out that Satan is their waiter. He says to the goth:”Hey, I know you’re here for food…how about you sell me your soul? Anything you want!”
The Goth answers, “No thank you, the black has swallowed my soul in the tears of the darkened moon…”
Satan says “Damn! How about you, mr. Philosophy student?”
“Well, Satan, I’d sell my soul if I could first prove its existence, but since I cannot and since I follow the ethics lain down in philosophy I can’t rightly sell you something that doesn’t exist and take advantage of you.” The philosophy student postulated.
“Damn! I’m in a tight spot! How about you, Lutheran? What’ll it take to get your soul?”
The lutheran looks up from the menu. “What? I’ll take a strawberry malt!”
A better start to a joke would be
A Goth, a Lutheran, and an Iranian American walk into Perkins…
But we couldn’t think of any good stereotypes for Iranian Americans.
Oh well.
The malts were tasty. Note to Natasha: Cheer up! If you’re reading this, you’re done with work for another week!