Category: Mothers

BAD CONNECTION

As part of her studies at the University, Rachel made a study-trip to Africa.

Upon arrival, she called her mother in Brooklyn to tell her that she had arrived safely and everything was fine.

The lines were bad, but she managed to get through, had her say and in exchange got some motherly advice, which ended with something like:

“.... and get yourself a nice ..itch... doctor!”

Rachel was an obedient girl and whenever possible followed her mother’s advice. Following a month’s stay, her airplane landed at Kennedy airport. Accompanying the girl down the gangway right on her heels, was a 6 ft tall black man, wearing a grass shirt, with a tiger pelt over his shoulders, his scarred face painted white, a bone in his nose and a big spear in his hand. The aghast mother took her daughter aside and whispered:

“Rachel, my dear, who is this scarecrow?”

“This is my husband, the witch doctor you told me to get.”

“What I told you was to get a rich doctor!”

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Category: Mothers

BAD CONNECTION

As part of her studies at the University, Rachel made a study-trip to Africa.
Upon arrival, she called her mother in Brooklyn to tell her that she had arrived safely and everything was fine.
The lines were bad, but she managed to get through, had her say and in exchange got some motherly advice, which ended with something like:
“.... and get yourself a nice ..itch... doctor!”
Rachel was an obedient girl and whenever possible followed her mother’s advice. Following a month’s stay, her airplane landed at Kennedy airport. Accompanying the girl down the gangway right on her heels, was a 6 ft tall black man, wearing a grass shirt, with a tiger pelt over his shoulders, his scarred face painted white, a bone in his nose and a big spear in his hand. The aghast mother took her daughter aside and whispered:
“Rachel, my dear, who is this scarecrow?”
“This is my husband, the witch doctor you told me to get.”
“What I told you was to get a rich doctor!”

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Category: On the Farm TRIBAL CUSTOM

An anthropologist arrived at an out-of-the-way tribe in Africa and was astonished to discover that solely men inhabited the village.

“Where are your wives?” - asked the researcher. “Do you live without women?”

“Not at all,”- answered one of the tribesmen, - “but as required by tradition, every six months our females take the cattle to the mountain pastures and return to the village only after another six months.”

“A very interesting habit,”- remarked the anthropologist politely, - “but tell me, how do you manage without female companionship so long?”

“We keep some sheep in a pen nearby and if somebody feels the urge, they always can accommodate him.”

The research at the tribe took longer than expected and after a few months without a female around, the anthropologist became restless. One evening, when it seemed that nobody was nearby, he sneaked into the pen and started copulating with one of the sheep. Suddenly he heard stifled laughter behind him. When he turned around, he saw that most of the tribes’ members were standing on the sidelines watching his performance and openly snickering.

“What is the matter?” - asked the embarrassed scientist. “Didn’t not you tell me, that when your wives are away you do it with the sheep?”

“Of course we do,” - answered one of the tribesmen, - “what we don’t understand is why you chose the ugliest ewe.”

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Category: Mothers BAD CONNECTION

As part of her studies at the University, Rachel made a study-trip to Africa.

Upon arrival, she called her mother in Brooklyn to tell her that she had arrived safely and everything was fine.

The lines were bad, but she managed to get through, had her say and in exchange got some motherly advice, which ended with something like:

“.... and get yourself a nice ..itch... doctor!”

Rachel was an obedient girl and whenever possible followed her mother’s advice. Following a month’s stay, her airplane landed at Kennedy airport. Accompanying the girl down the gangway right on her heels, was a 6 ft tall black man, wearing a grass shirt, with a tiger pelt over his shoulders, his scarred face painted white, a bone in his nose and a big spear in his hand. The aghast mother took her daughter aside and whispered:

“Rachel, my dear, who is this scarecrow?”

“This is my husband, the witch doctor you told me to get.”

“What I told you was to get a rich doctor!”

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Category: Ethnic Stories IRISH STEW

Paddy happened to be passing a shoe shop in Dublin one day and in the window he spotted a pair of shoes. He liked them, so he entered the shop and asked the shop assistant:

“How much are dem shoes in de window, fella?”

“Those are 500 pounds, sir,” - replied the assistant.

“Begorrah!” - exclaimed Paddy, - “dats an awful lot for a pair of shoes.”

“Well, sir, they are crocodile shoes, very rare,” - said the assistant.

Paddy certainly couldn't afford 500 pounds for a pair of shoes, so he left the shop and went home. He told his brother Mick about the shoes and Mick had a brilliant idea:

“Sure, Paddy and we should go to Africa and hunt crocodiles and we'd make ourselves a fortune, sure enough!”

Paddy was very impressed with this idea, so off they both went to Africa and hired a guide to show them the most crocodile-infested river. They made camp and Mick said to Paddy:

“Tell you what, Paddy, you start hunting the crocodiles, I'll go back to town to find us a truck.”

So off Mick went back to town with the guide, leaving Paddy to get on with the tricky task of hunting the crocodiles. A couple of weeks later, Mick had pretty much drained the town of all available bottles of Guinness and was running low on cash, so he decided to go back to the camp and see how his brother Paddy was getting on. As he pulled into the camp in the truck, he saw crocodiles everywhere, stacked in huge piles by the hut, stacked along the riverbank, hundreds and hundreds of crocodiles. He jumped out of the truck and went in search of Paddy and just then there was a commotion in the river, loads of splashing and Paddy came to the surface clinging onto a huge crocodile, which he wrestled to the shore, then clubbed to death.

“How's it going, there, Paddy?” - asked Mick.

“Terrible,” - replied Paddy, - “in fact I've caught about a tousand of dese tings and I've still not found one of dem wearing shoes!”

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