Ethnic Cultural Jokes

What’s six miles long and moves four miles an hour?

A Mexican funeral with only one set of jumper cables…

Q. Where does an Irish family go on vacation?

A. A different bar

The CIA loses track of one of its operatives, and so calls in one of their top spy hunters.

The CIA boss says, “All I can tell you is that his name is Murphy and that he’s somewhere in Ireland. If you think you’ve located him, tell him the code words, ‘The weather forecast calls for mist in the morning.’ If it’s really him, he’ll answer, ‘Yes, and for mist at noon as well.’”

So the spy hunter goes to Ireland and stops in a bar in one of the small towns. He says to the bartender, “Maybe you can help me. I’m looking for a guy named Murphy.”

The bartender replies, “You’re going to have to be more specific because, around here, there are lots of guys named Murphy. There’s Murphy the Baker, who runs the pastry shop on the next block. There’s Murphy the Banker, who’s president of our local savings bank. There’s Murphy the Blacksmith, who works at the stables. And, as a matter of fact, my name is Murphy, too.”

Hearing this, the spy hunter figures he might as well try the code words on the bartender, so he says, “The weather forecast calls for mist in the morning.”

The bartender replies, “Oh, you’re looking for Murphy the Spy. He lives right down the street.”

When Charles deGaulle decided to retire from public life, the American Ambassador to France threw a gala dinner party at the Embassy in his honor. At the dinner table, the Ambassador’s wife was chatting with Madame deGaulle.

“Madame,” she began, “Your husband has been such a prominent figure in the world for so long, first as a great General, then as President of the Republic, now as a statesman, what are you most looking forward to in your retirement years?”

A hush fell over the room to hear her response. “Oh, cherie, I look forward to peace, quiet, but most of all……. a penis.”

A shocked silence followed her reply until Le Grand Charles stood and addressed his wife, “Darling, I believe zee Americans pronounce zat word ‘appiness.”

This is a story we know real well
About a young hooker named Snookery Smell.
Ever since she was twenty the men always knew,
Where to find a cheap trick or a Snookery screw.

They came night and day to her house in wazoo,
For the wonderful feeling of a boping bam boo.
She could move up and down with the greatest of ease,
And she spent lots of time turning tricks on her knees.

But in twenty years time things started to fizz,
Her boom booms where sagging and that hurt her biz.
But if you ask but if you ask an old man in the town of wazoo,
He will say go and get you a snookery screw!