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A Story About Sheep

November 2, 2005 By Glen Campbell Leave a Comment

A young teacher from Leeds had accepted a temporary job teaching aclass of four-year-olds out in one of the most isolated, rural parts of North Wales.

One of her first lessons involved teaching the letter S so she held up a big colour photo of a sheep and said “Now, who can tell me what this is?” No answer. Twenty blank and wordless faces looked back at her.

“Come on, who can tell me what this is?” she exclaimed, tapping the photo determinedly, unable to believe that the children were quite so ignorant.

The twenty faces became apprehensive and even fearful as she continued to question them with mounting frustration.

“Come on, doesn’t anyone know what this is?!!”

Eventually, one brave soul put up a tiny, reluctant hand. “Yes?”, the teacher cried, raising the photo aloft. “Tell me what you think it is”.

“Please, miss”, said the boy warily, “is it a three-year-old Border Leicester?”.

Filed Under: Children, Ethnic

Polish Sausage

October 27, 2005 By Glen Campbell Leave a Comment

A man goes into a store and tells the clerk, “I’d like some Polish sausage.”

The clerk looks at him and says, “Are you Polish?”

The guy, clearly offended, says, “Well, yes I am. But let me ask you something. If I had asked for Italian sausage would you ask me if I was Italian? Or if I had asked for German bratwurst, would you ask me if was German? Or if I asked for a kosher hot dog would you ask me if Iwas Jewish? Or if I had asked for a taco would you ask if I was Mexican?”

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Filed Under: Ethnic

Yellow, Pink, and Green

October 20, 2005 By Glen Campbell Leave a Comment

Mujibar was trying to get into the USA legally through Immigration.

The INS officer said, “Mujibar, you have passed all the tests, except there is one more test. Unless you pass it, you cannot enter the United States of America.”

Mujibar said, “I am ready.”

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Filed Under: Ethnic, Technology

When in London

July 20, 2005 By Glen Campbell Leave a Comment

AN AMERICAN tourist in London decides to skip his tour group and explore the city on his own. He wanders around, seeing the sights, and occasionally stopping at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture, chat with the lads, and have a pint of Guiness.

After a while, he finds himself in a very high-class area – big, stately residences, no pubs, no shops, no restaurants, and worst of all, NO PUBLIC TOILETS.  He really, really has to go, after all those pints of Guiness.

He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings and decides to use the wall to solve his problem.

As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London Bobbie, who says, “I say, sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know.”

“I’m very sorry, officer,” replies the American, “but I really, really HAVE TO GO, and I just can’t find a public toilet.”

“Ah, yes,” says the Bobbie, “just follow me.” He leads him to a back “delivery alley”, then along a wall to a gate, which he opens.

“In there,” points the Bobbie. “Whiz away Sir, anywhere you want.”

The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains, sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom. Since he has the cop’s blessing, he unburdens himself and is greatly relieved.

As he goes back through the gate, he says to the Bobbie, “That was really decent of you. Is that what you call British hospitality?”

“No sir,” replies the Bobbie, “that’s what we call the French Embassy.”

Filed Under: Ethnic, Regional