Pen and I bought this book we have read during one of our stays in Anilao courtesy of Dr. Manlapaz - Surely You’re Joking Mr. Feynmann; Adventures of a Curious Character. The book is nothing but anectodes of this bugoy (as Dr. M would refer to him) scientist and his unique adventures in life. Richard Feynmann is a Nobel prize awardee in the field of Physics and one of the brains in the Atom Bomb.
His anecdotes are full of witty comebacks and intelligent adventures. Galing mag-isip. For sure, all my college blockmates will like this book. 
Here’s a snippet of the book.
I’ve found this on one site and pasted it here. Happy reading.
The first time I was in Brazil I was eating a noon meal at I don’t know what time — I was always in the restaurants at the wrong time — and I was the only customer in the place. I was eating rice with steak (which I loved), and there were about four waiters standing around.
A Japanese man came into the restaurant. I had seen him before, wandering around; he was trying to sell abacuses.
He started to talk to the waiters, and challenged them: He said he could add numbers faster than any of them could do.
The waiters didn’t want to lose face, so they said, “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you go over and challenge the customer over there?”
The man came over. I protested, “But I don’t speak Portuguese well!”
The waiters laughed. “The numbers are easy,” they said.
They brought me a pencil and paper.
The man asked a waiter to call out some numbers to add. He beat me hollow, because while I was writing the numbers down, he was already adding them as he went along.
I suggested that the waiter write down two identical lists of numbers and hand them to us at the same time. It didn’t make much difference. He still beat me by quite a bit.
However, the man got a little bit excited: he wanted to prove himself some more. “Multipliqao!” he said.
Somebody wrote down a problem. He beat me again, but not by much, because I’m pretty good at products.
The man then made a mistake: he proposed we go on to division. What he didn’t realize was, the harder the problem, the better chance I had.
We both did a long division problem. It was a tie.
This bothered the hell out of the Japanese man, because he was apparently very well trained on the abacus, and here he was almost beaten by this customer in a restaurant.
“Raios cubicos!” he says, with a vengeance. Cube roots! He wants to do cube roots by arithmetic! It’s hard to find a more difficult fundamental problem in arithmetic. It must have been his topnotch exercise in abacus-land.
He writes a number on some paper — any old number — and I still remember it: 1729.03. He starts working on it, mumbling and grumbling: “Mmmmmmagmmmmbrrr” — he’s working like a demon! He’s poring away, doing this cube root.
Meanwhile I’m just sitting there.
One of the waiters says, “What are you doing?”
I point to my head. “Thinking!” I say. I write down 12 on the paper. After a little while I’ve got 12.002.
The man with the abacus wipes the sweat off his foreÂhead: “Twelve!” he says.
“Oh, no!” I say. “More digits! More digits!” I know that in taking a cube root by arithmetic, each new digit is even more work than the one before. It’s a hard job.
He buries himself again, grunting, “Rrrrgrrrrmmmmmm. . .” while I add on two more digits. He finally lifts his head to say, “12.0!”
The waiters are all excited and happy. They tell the man, “Look! He does it only by thinking, and you need an abacus! He’s got more digits!”
He was completely washed out, and left, humiliated. The waiters congratulated each other.
How did the customer beat the abacus? The number was 1729.03. I happened to know that a cubic foot contains 1728 cubic inches, so the answer is a tiny bit more than 12. The excess, 1.03, is only one part in nearly 2000, and I had learned in calculus that for small fractions, the cube root’s excess is one-third of the number’s excess. So all I had to do is find the fraction 1/1728, and multiply by 4 (divide by 3 and multiply by 12). So I was able to pull out a whole lot of digits that way.
