Mexican Jokes

This fellow was sitting at the counter in a truck stop diner eating lunch. He was rather small in stature, bespectacled, and wearing a suit with a bow-tie.

On the stool next to him was his dog, an unusually-small, Mexican Chihuahua. He was surrounded by big rough-looking, rough-talking truck drivers, and he was catching a lot of ribbing about his tiny, little dog. He continued in silence eating his lunch. When he finished, he got off his stool, paid his bill, and he and his dog walked out of the diner.

A few moments later, the small man returns and timidly asks, “Does anyone in here own a Doberman?”

The roughest of the truck drivers rises and walks over to the little man and says, “Yeah, the Doberman’s mine. What about ‘im?”

The little guy replies, “I’m afraid my dog just killed your dog.”

The truck driver, bristling, bellows, “How could YOUR dog possibly have killed MY dog?”

The little man responds, “Well, your dog choked on him.”

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

A Mexican funeral with only one set of jumper cables…

One day at the border the border guards noticed a huge group of mexicans that were crossing the border in pairs.

The guards went down to investigate and asked one man what was going on here. The man said,” Well that sign says (NO TRESpassing)”

It was siesta time in the sleepy Mexican village. Pedro reclined on the sidewalk while his favorite ass, Pablo, stood nearby. An American tourist wandered by, stopped to click a few photos of Pedro and Pablo, then in jest, asked Pedro if he knew what time it was.

Pedro looked up at him, quietly reached over, hefted Pablo’s huge nuts, squinted at them, said “Two-fifteen, senor,” then went back to his siesta. When the tourist checked his watch, it said 2:15! Amazed by this, the tourist took a few photos of Pablo’s nuts, then left.

He told all the people on the tour bus about the man who could tell the time by lifting his asses’ nuts. Of course they didn’t believe it so they had to come see.

Ten minutes later there was a crowd of incredulous American tourists around Pedro. One obnoxious tour member asked Pedro, “Say fella, my friend says you can tell the time by lifting this here asses’ nuts. So, what time is it?” Pedro calmly reached over, hefted Pablo’s nuts, squinted a bit, then said “Two twenty five.” They all looked at their watches and sure enough, it was 2:25!

Then the bidding began for Pablo, the Wonder Ass. When it had reached one thousand twenty five dollars, Pedro accepted, took the money, handed Pablo over to the obnoxious tourist who wanted to know how this incredible time-telling asso worked. Pablo was happy to comply.

“Senor, please seet here.”
“OK.”
“Now, reech over and leeft the nuts.”
“Alright fella, but I still don’t know the time”
“Senor, bend down a leettle bit.”
“What for?”
“Just a little more senor.”
“What’s the deal here, buddy?”
“Now look carefully, senor.”
The tourist gazed intently at Pablo’s nuts.
“I don’t see a thing.”
“But senor is looking in the wrong place. See the clock tower behind the nuts?”

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.”