Ethnic Cultural Jokes

During world war 2 a Scottish general, an English general and an Irish general were captured by a German S.S. officer. They were all standing outside a concentration camp when the S.S. agent says,
“Before du go in to die concentration camp , I vill give each of you vone hundert lashes , but since you have vought bravely I vill give you one vish each.”

He then turns to the Scottish general and asks him,
“Vhat is your vish ? ”

And the scottish general replies, “I would like one of your wee S.S. jackets to put on me when you are whipping me ”

“Your vish is granted,” says the S.S. officer and he goes and gets a leather S.S. jacket to put on the Scottish general . Once he has it on , he gives him one hundred lashes with his whip and the Scottish general crawls into the concentration camp.

Next the S.S. officer goes to the English general and says, “Du have vought bravely also, Vhat ist your vish?”

The English general replies, “I would like a mattress to put across my back, old boy!”

The S.S. officer gets a mattress and puts it across the English general’s back and gives him one hundred lashes. The English general then crawls into the concentration camp.

Next the S.S. officer goes to the Irish general and says, “Du have also vought bravely , even more bravely than sie other two , for this I vill give du two vishes ”

Immediately the Irish general replies, “I would like two hundred lashes!”

The S.S. officer replies, “Are du sure?”

“Yes I am!” replies the Irish general.

The S.S. officer then says, “Fair enough, then vhat vould your second vish be??”

The Irish general then replies, “Put that english bastard on my back!!!”

You know you might be a redneck if you go to family reunions to pick up chicks

One day, an immigrant from Poland entered a New York City Police Precinct to report that his American wife was planning to kill him. The police officer on duty was intrigued by this and he asked, “How sure are ya that she is gonna kill ya? Did she threaten to kill ya?”

“No,” replied the nervous immigrant.

“Did ya hear her tell someone else that she’s gonna kill ya?”

“No.”

“Did someone tell ya that your wife is gonna kill ya?”

“No.”

“Then why in God’s name did ya think she’s gonna kill ya?” asked the exasperated police officer.

“Because I found bottle on dresser and I tink she gonna poison me!” He handed the police officer the suspect bottle.

The police officer took one look at the label on the bottle and started to laugh out loud. The immigrant became indignant and said, “What so funny? Can’t you see the label on bottle said ‘Polish Remover’?”

An American investment banker was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellow-fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Mexican replied, “Only a little while, Senor”.

The American then asked why didn’t he stay out longer and catch more fish?

The Mexican fisherman replied that he had enough to support his family’s needs.

The American then asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican fisherman said “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life.”

The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat, and with the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats, so instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the processor, and eventually open your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City…then LA, and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding empire.”

The Mexican fisherman asked “But, Senor, how long will all this take?”

“Fifteen to twenty years”, the American replied.

“And what then?”

The American smiled and said “That’s the best part. When the time is right, you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich…you would make millions.”

“Yes, and then what?”

The American said “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, and in the evenings stroll to the village where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”

When the new school year started, the history teacher was so excited because there were three little American Indian boys in her class. She was beside herself with excitement. So she asked the first little Indian boy to stand up and tell the class what tribe he was from and how he knew this.

The little boy stood up and proudly threw out his chest. Then he took his fist and hit it on his chest. He said in a booming voice, “I am a Cherokee. My father and I walked for many moons and one day my father said, ‘Son, you see all this land. This is Cherokee land. So, I know I am a Cherokee.”

“Wonderful,” the teacher said, and then asked the next little Indian boy to stand.

The little boy stood up and proudly threw out his chest. Then he took his fist and hit it on his chest. He said in a booming voice, “I am a Comanche. My father and I walked for many moons and one day my father aid, ‘Son, you see all this land. This is Comanche land.’ So, I know I am a Comanche.”

The teacher was growing more excited by the moment and asked the last little Indian boy to stand.

The little boy stood up and proudly threw out his chest. Then he took his fist and hit it on his chest. He said in a booming voice, “I am a Fuckawee.”

The teacher looked dumbfounded and said, “I don’t think there is any such tribe as the Fuckawee.”

The little boy said, “My father and I walked for many days and many nights. And many nights and many days. We ran out of water, but we kept walking. With no rest, we were getting weary. Finally, one day my father stopped and with his hand to shield the sun from his eyes, looked around. He said, ‘Hmmmm, where the Fuckawee…’”