Category: Ethnic jokes

Q: What happens when a Polak doesn’t pay his garbage bill? A: They stop delivering.

Q: What’s delaying the Polish space program? A: Development of a working match.

Q: What’s the motto of the Polish Solidarity Union? A: Every man for himself.

An Arab diplomat visiting the U.S. for the first time was being wined and dined by the State Department. The Grand Emir was unused to the salt in American foods (french fries, cheeses, salami, anchovies etc.) and was constantly sending his manservant Abdul to fetch him a glass of water. Time and again, Abdul would scamper off and return with a glass of water, but then came the time when he returned empty-handed. Abdul, you son of an ugly camel, where is my water? demanded the Grand Emir. A thousand pardons, O Illustrious One, stammered the wretched Abdul, white man sit on well.

A Brit, a Frenchman and a Russian are viewing a painting of Adam and Eve frolicking in the Garden of Eden. “Look at their reserve, their calm,” muses the Brit. “They must be British.” “Nonsense,” the Frenchman disagrees. “They’re naked, and so beautiful. Clearly, they are French.” “No clothes, no shelter,” the Russian points out, “they have only an apple to eat, and they’re being told this is paradise. They are Russian.”

Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Shamus, were stumbling home late one night and found themselves on the road which led past the old graveyard. “Come have a look over here,” says Paddy, “It’s Michael O’Grady’s grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe old age of 87.” “That’s nothing,” says Sean, “here’s one named Patrick O’Toole. It says here that he was 95 when he died.” Just then, Shamus yells out, “But here’s a fella that died when he was 145 years old!” “What was his name?” asks Paddy. Shamus lights a match to see what else is written on the stone marker, and exclaims, “Miles, from Dublin.”

A long time ago, Britain and France were at war. During one battle, The French captured an English major. Taking the major to their headquarters, the French general began to question him. The French general asked, “Why do you English officers all wear red coats? Don’t you know the red material makes you easier targets for us to shoot at?” In his bland English way, the major informed the general that the reason English officers wear red coats is so that if they are shot, the blood won’t show and the men they are leading won’t panic. And that is why from that day to now, all French Army officers wear brown pants.

An Italian, a Scotsman, and a Chinese fellow are hired at a construction site. The foreman points to a huge pile of sand and says to the Italian guy, “You’re in charge of sweeping.” To the Scotsman, he says, “You’re in charge of shoveling.” And to the Chinese guy, “You’re in charge of supplies.” The foreman then shrugs his beefy shoulders and says, “Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you guys to make a good dent in that pile of sand by the time I get back.” A few hours later when the foreman returns, he sees that the pile of sand is still untouched. Pointing to the pile of sand, the forman says to the Italian, “Why didn’t you sweep any of it?” The Italian replies in a heavy accent, “I no gotta broom. You tella the Chinesea guy he inna charge of a supplies, but hea disappeara, and I coulda no finda him!” Then the foreman turns to the Scotsman and asks, ” Didn’t I tell you to shovel that sand?” The Scotsman replies in his heavy brogue, “Aye, ye did, laddie, but I couldna get meself a shovel. Ye left the Chinee in charge of supplies, but I couldna find him!” The foreman is really angry now and storms off toward the pile of sand, looking for the Chinese guy. Just then, the Chinese guy springs out from behind the pile of sand and yells, “SUPPLIES!”

An American, a Jew and a Canadian were in a terrible car accident. They were all brought to the same emergency room, but all three of them died before they arrived. Just as they were about to put the toe tag on the American, he stirred and opened his eyes. Astonished, the doctors and nurses present asked him what happened. “Well,” said the American, “I remember the crash, and then there was a beautiful light, and then the Canadian and the Jew and I were standing at the gates of heaven. St. Peter approached us and said that we were all too young to die, and that for a donation of $50, we could return to the earth. So, of course, I pulled out my wallet and gave him the $50, and the next thing I knew I was back here.” “That’s amazing!” said one of the doctors, “But what happened to the other two?” “Last I saw them,” replied the American, “the Jew was haggling over the price and the Canadian was waiting for the government to pay for his!”

Three guys are debating about which of their languages is the most pleasing to the ear. The Spaniard says, “Consider the word for ‘butterfly’. In Spanish, it is pronounced ‘Mariposa’, a beautiful sounding word.” The French man says, “True, but Papillion, the French word for butterfly, is even more beautiful.” “What’s wrong with Schmetterlink,” asks the German?