The year is 1978. A little angel is dent down from heaven to check out things down on Earth. He comes back and tells God: "A Pole has been elected pope" and God replies: 'JA WIEM!'
Why are Polish jokes so short? - So the idiots that tell them can remember them.
A Pole, Frenchman and Jew walking through the woods spot a skunk a running into a cave. The Pole says 'I'll catch him', enters the cave but soon re-emerges holding his nose and gasping for air. The Frenchman does the some. Finally the Jew gives it a go, but this time the skunk re-emerges holding its nose and gasping for air. (NB: any nationalities may be subsituted -- Lusatians, Albanians, Samogitians, Slavonians, etc.).
At a Polish-Soviet border crossing one dark, cold night the Soviet border guard saw that his Polish counterpart had dozed off ( probably nursing a hangover), slumped over the border post and his had rolled over to the Soviet side. The Russky’s duty was ending so he decided to play a trick on the Pole and crapped into his hat. Several weeks passed before the same two soldiers were on guard duty at the same time again, but neither said a word. It so happened, that this time it was the Soviet soldier that dozed off. When he woke up in his cap was a bottle of Winiak and Starka, a box of Wedel chocolates, a Krakus tinned ham and a carton of high-class Carmen cigarettes. Next time the two duties coincided, the Russian was greatly embarrassed and profusely apologized that he had played such a nasty trick and the Pole had given him such luxury delicacies. To which the Pole replied: “Co kto ma to daje!” (You can only give what you’ve got).
The leader of the London-based Polish Government in Exile challenged the Polish Communist leader (in actuality the Soviet puppet) Bolesław Bierut to a foot race. The émigré leader being younger and in better shape easily won. Next day Trybuna Ludu (Polish Communist party organ) ran big, bold headlines across its front page:
COMRADE BIERUT CAPTURES COVETED SECOND PLACE Reactionary émigré politician is last but one (or: second to last)
There are countless Góral (highlander) jokes. Here's one:
A highlander was in court on charges of killing a tourist who was found with multiple stab wounds. Asked to explain, the highlander said: Well, you see, it was like this, Your Worship.
I was sitting on a stump whittling away when this ceper* came round and tripped so unfortunately that he impaled himself on my whittling knife. And he did so a total of 17 times.
* Ceper (pronounced tsepper rhyming with the American pronunciation of pepper) is Góralese for an outsider, tourist, holidaymaker, cityslicker, etc.
A ceper is trekking through the mountains and comes across a Góral stretched out in a mountain clearing, puffing his pearwood pipe. The ceper asks the time, whereupon the Górał jiggles the gonads of a goat grazing at his side and says: It's half past 10. Several hours later the same ceper is returning from his hike and again asks the Góral for the time. The Góral again jiggles the goat's testicles and says. It's 1.27. The bewildered tourist asks how is it that you can tell the time by fiddling with the goat's testicles. Very simple, says the Góral. Our church just below us gas got a clock tower and the goat’s balls obstruct it from view. When I push them aside I can see the time.
A Góral woman is all in tears and tells her crony that he’d put her hubby’s favourite moccasins on the stove to dry and they got burnt and he will kill her when he finds out. The crony tells her what to do. When you two are in bed and he is just about to achieve his highpoint, you should try to tear yourself away. When he asks what’s wrong, tell him: Your moccasins are on the stove drying and I don’t want them to burn. So she did as suggested and the frenzied, revved-up Góral pulled her back into bed and said: LET ‘EM BURN!
How many Poles does it take to change the world? Two -- An electrician from Gdańsk and a former cardinal from Kraków.
The head of an artifical insemination station is surprised to see a small 5-year-old boy leading a cow by a rope who says: 'I've brought our cow to see a bull.' 'Shouldn't your father have done it?' asks the man. 'No, it has to be a bull,' replies the lad.
What with the EU's Schengen Treaty, Europeans are now zippnig across the continent without worrying about border controls. In that connection Germans say 'You know you're in Poland becuasd of the potholed, washboard roads...' and Poles reply: 'You know youi're in Germany, becuase the cows are better-looking than the women!'
Not all Polish jokes contain the word 'Polish' nor necessarily speak of a German, Russian and Pole. Most are based on situational humor and often run in series. Here are some Pan Hrabia jokes:
Children see Pan Hrabia (the local squire) taking a stroll and ask him whether a monster lives in his manor house. He replies: 'No, my mother-in-law died last year!'
Pan Hrabia returned compeltely p*ssed from a banquet. Next morning he asks his butler. 'Jan, how many pull-chains are on our toilet?' 'One, sir.' 'Bloody hell, I've crapped beneath the hall clock again!'
Its true there are many type of Polish jokes. Real Polish jokes told by Poles generally don't insult Polish people like the 1960's-70's Hollywood/TV media pushed subhuman intelligence jokes did against Polish people. You have the Pierogi and Kielbasa Polish jokes which exaggerate how Poles like these foods and you also have jokes told by Poles in Poland (1945-1990) showing the hypocracies of the Soviet system they were forced to live under, that the Soviets thought was so great.
Pan Hrabia is attmepting to make love to Pani Hrabina (the countess) but, despite his efforts, can't seem to positon hismelf right and calls his butler Jan (Polish butelrs were traditonally addressed by only their first names). 'Jan, I need some light so hold up a candelarbra so I can see what I'm doing.' But despite the improved illumination, things still aren't working out, so he jumps up in exasperation, scolds Jan for holding the candelabra the wrong way, snatches it away from him and orders Jan to trade places. Jan plunges into things and has the job done in no time. 'I hope you now see how you're supposed to hold the candelabra!' exclaims Pan Hrabia triumphantly.
Pan Hrabia comes back home on an early morning after an intense night with Pani Hrabina (the countess). Jan, his servant, helps him undress and then assists him with the bath.
But sir! Exclaims Jan. Why does your penis have all those cuts? Oh, you knw the countess. She is so well mannered she wouldn't put anything into her mouth without fork and knife.
Indeed, those bluebloods sure know their etiquette!
** A devout Catholic Pole, who owned an off-licence, was surprised to see a nun from his parish asking for a bottle of whisky. ‘It’s for Mother Superior’s constipation,’ she explained. Walking home from work that day he passed the convent and through the window could see the same nun on a table doing the cancan, singing bawdy ballads at the top of her lungs, twirling her large rosary and quaffing the whisky straight from the bottle. Shocked and in disbelief he knocked on the door and said: ‘Sister, you lied to me! You said the whisky was for Mother Superior’s constipation.’ ‘But it is,’ she replied. ‘When she sees me like this she’ll sh*t!
** An eldelry Polish nun in a all-girls' Catholic lyceum was asking her maturzystki (prospective school-leavers) what they wanted to be in life. The answers were your stereotypical: stewardess, researcher, film star, chef, nurse, physician, businesswoman and housewife until one girl said 'Prostitute'.
The nun fainted at the sound of that word and was brought too with smelling salts. 'My daughter, what did you say? My old ears must be playing tricks on me.' 'I said I wanted to be a prostitute.' replied the girl. 'Oh, thank goodness,' said the nun with a sigh of relief. 'I thought you'd said "Protestant"!'
** A devout Catholic Pole, who owned an off-licence, was surprised to see a nun from his parish asking for a bottle of whisky. ‘It’s for Mother Superior’s constipation,’ she explained. Walking home from work that day he passed the convent and through the window could see the same nun on a table doing the cancan, singing bawdy ballads at the top of her lungs, twirling her large rosary and quaffing the whisky straight from the bottle. Shocked and in disbelief he knocked on the door and said: ‘Sister, you lied to me! You said the whisky was for Mother Superior’s constipation.’ ‘But it is,’ she replied. ‘When she sees me like this she’ll sh*t!
** A tourist at a small holiday hotel in Masuria had declined the house speciality, duckblood soup (czenina), proposed by the waiter. 'But you can have a small bowl free of charge', entreated the waiter to no avail. He called the dining-room manager who said: 'This is our specialité de la maison. People come from far and wide just to sample it and rave about it to no end.' But still the guest refused. Then the chef came out explaining this was a treasured, old heirloom recipe, a dish one of its kind, a gouremt treat nowhere else to be found, but the tourist adamantly refused to even try a single spoonful. That night he was fast asleep in his room when one of the other hotel guests got a severe gastric seizure and the hotel management had to call an ambulance. The ambulance crew barged into the soup-refuser's room by misatke (201 instead of 101) and over his protets two burly ambulance attendants held him down while the attending physician rammed an enema nozzle up his behind and give him a really good enema....
Next day, the shaken, bedraggled and ashen-faced tourist was sitting on the hotel terrace writing a post card to a friend: 'There's clean air and beautiful scenery all around this cosy little hotel on a nice lake for boating, swimming and fishing. But if you ever decide to visit the place, by all means be sure to order the duckblood soup. Beause they'll will get it in you one way or the other!'
But if you ever decide to visit the place, by all means be sure to order the duckblood soup. Beause they'll will get it in you one way or the other!'
With all that duck, I wonder if he stuck with a bill.
There were a few Polish jokes about Russian gangsters:
A Russian gangster goes to the dentist. The dentist looks in the gangster's mouth and is amazed to see he has gold teeth embossed with diamonds.
The dentist asks, "And just what do you expect me to do?"
Gangster replies, "Fit a burglar alarm!"
A few years ago there was a really dodgy bit of road renovation in Olsztyn, outside the town hall. Around that time I heard the following joke:
The president of Olsztyn holds a competition for tenders to do the road outside the town hall. 3 companies come forward, a Warsaw company, a local Olsztyn company and a small Ukrainian firm.
The president asks how much they charge: Warsaw says, "We can do the whole road for 20,000 euroes. The Ukarainian company says, "We can do it for 5000 euroes". The president asks the local guy, who says "25,000 euroes". The president is shocked, "But that is more than the warsaw company, how do you justify that price?" "The builder whispers, "10,000 for you, 10,000 for me... and we get the Ukrainians to do it!"
For example a Greek joke I heard recently. Juda goes to hell.Velzevul asks him:How much did you take to kiss Jesus?Juda:30 silver coins.Velzevul:How much do you want for a BJ?
Another one:a guy goes to hell.Satan tells him:You won't regret.We have a wonderful time here.- Really?-Yes.Do you like narcotics?-Of course.- Well every Monday we do narcotics here.- Great.- Do you like playing cards?-Yo.-Well on Tuesday we play cards,all the games the whole day.Do you like hot women?-Do you ask?Of course I do.Man,you are lucky then.On Wednesday the hottest women come here.I suppose sometimes you take it up the ass as well.- I wouldn't say so.- Look man,we are together now,noone hears us,you are in hell,you can confess.You do get your ass taken sometimes.I mean they wear it on you.- I am sorry no.- Then I am afraid Friday will be a difficult day.
Thread attached on merging: German Politics Internet Forum
I wasn't sure where to put it (couldn't find "Comedy" section :)).
Here goes - German Politikforen...
politikforen.net/showthread.php?t=98976
...an extract from our dear friends and neighbours' discussion board:
Polen wissen, daß wir Deutschen wiederkommen müssen, da alles, worauf sie stolz sind, doch nur deutsche Kultur ist.
Wir Deutsche haben Polen katholisiert, zivilisiert, entsumpft, entheidet und erst zu dem gemacht was es heute sind.
Der ehrliche Pole dankt dem Deutschen für die Zivilisation, die er gebracht hat.
Hey - Hans, you can wiederkommen anytime you want, I have no problem with that. The catch is - your own eastern lands are depopulating and your population is shrinking every year (apart from immigrants). So maybe before you start wiederkomming to Poland, think of building up your own population growth :)
Oh - and you got it right - I am very stolz of my deutsche kultur (especially my favourite deutsche writers: Mickiewicz, Słowacki, Prus, Kraszewski, Dąbrowska, Herbert and others :)).
There's more of that on this extraordinary comic site! Those of you who can read German will enjoy a good laugh the comedians on politikforen give us.
*and who said Germans have no sense of humour??? :-))))*
An Englishman, Indian, Irishman, and Frenchman are having meal in a multicultural restaurant.
The Irishman orders some stew so the Englishman laughs at the “savage paddy”. The Frenchman orders some French food. Paddy Englishman laughs at the “frog bastard.” The Indian man has a curry and the Englishman calls it “Paki muck.” The Englishman drinks warm flat beer and eats his charred roast beef ( real fuggin’ food innit) and then tells Paddy jokes, Frog jokes and Paki jokes, before molesting the waitress (for a laugh), attempting to glass "the fackin' Paki" and ending his night by puking into the table and sleeping in his own vomit.
Are Wąchock jokes still enjoyed in today's Poland? There actually is such a place in the Świętokrzyski region.
Why do people go to church in Wąchock wearing protective helmets? Becuase the bell-rope broke and the sexton has to throw stones at the bell to ring it.
Why didn't he just get a new bell-rope? He did, but it was too long so he dug a three-metre-deep hole which he climbs down into to ring the bell.
Is it true there's a motorway in Wąchock? Indeed there is. They actually started buiilding a normal two-lane road at oppopsite ends of town but failed to link up.
The world's longest bridge is in Wąchock. It runs parallel to the river.
Merged: Name changing in the GG?
Back during the German occupation of Poland in the truncated General Gouvernement a man goes to the registrar's office wanting to change his name because it's demeaning and people are taking the p*ss.
Clerk: Well,what is your name? Man: Adolf Srajda. Clerk: Indeed, that is pretty demeaning. What would you like to change it to? Man: Tadeusz Srajda!
[Moved from]: The parable of the methyl alcohol - Bohdan Smolen's story
The weekly "Polityka" runs a nice story about Bohdan Smoleń, in Polish,
Those who do not read Polish at all may find few bio paragraphs here in English, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohdan_Smoleń And those who read Polish at least a bit will find more about him in Polish, here: pl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohdan_Smoleń
The following is a jocular story that punctuates the Polityka's article.
Translated: Bohdan Smoleń begins the story about why he helps children with disabilities: in Krakow there was a joke about two guys who ran out of vodka in the middle of the night...
Anyone sitting down to drink, knows pretty well that a bottle will ever get emptied, since this the inexorable law of physics. Yet these two panicked. It was a middle of the night, there were no 24-hours stores under socialism rule, all illegal dens were out of moonshine - well, "kurva", what a tragedy!
But drinkers' minds are ever creative because they constantly wonder about chances to get a next drink. Cunning - the purest form of intelligence, shows them the way. In the Smoleń's Krakowian joke about prematurely emptied bottle of vodka, one friend says: - There is a tank of methyl alcohol, at the main railway station, so let's take an empty bottle, go there and fill her up.
In this Krakow's joke of his youth, the two guys stay in front of the the tank of methyl alcohol and deliberate. If they drink it, they might get blind. - You know - one of them says, waving his hand - I have virtually seen everything already.
- And I have seen everything in life - Smoleń ends his story. - So I can now take care of disabled children.
The origin of such jokes is far older. They exist in most European countries about various groups. Poles are not exempt from criticism since these same jokes exist in Poland about other groups of people.
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