A math joke, to celebrate the occasion of my pi quit!
A great Indian chief was fond of his many squaws and was renowned for his prolific offspring. One day, one of his fine squaws went into labor. As was his custom, he attended the birthing teepee with the midsquaw to witness the delivery. He emerged shortly thereafter, beaming with pride, and commanded that she be constructed a new teepee of deer hide for she had born unto him another boy, a fine young brave.
That very day yet another squaw went into labor. All day she labored and well into the night. The great chief emerged, beaming with pride, and commanded that she be constructed a new teepee of elk hide for she had born unto him another boy, a fine young brave.
Yet a third squaw went into labor. All day, into the night, and on into the next day she labored.
The great chief finally emerged, bathed in sweat and commanded that a huge teepee of hippopotamus hide be constructed for this squaw. The tribe gasped, ooed and ahhhed, “what great chief, what has she born you?!”
“She gave him twin boys!” proclaimed a young bespectacled brave named Pythagorus (it was an obscure tribe of Greek Indians from Queens, on the upper west side).
“You are correct – how did you know that?” asked the great chief.
“It’s simple” explained Pythagorus “the value of the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.”