Saint Peter is doing his thing, minding the Gates of Heaven, when he notices that the Gates are getting a bit shabby and shopworn and in need of repair. He goes outside to the line of people waiting to come "in" and asks "ARE THERE ANY CONTRACTORS HERE?" Three guys step forward......... A Black Man, an Italian, and a Jew. Peter asks the three to inspect the Gates and then give a price, with a breakdown. First, the Black guy goes over and looks at the Gates. "I think $900.00 should do it" he says. "That would be $300 for materials, $300 for labor, and $300 for me." "Great," says Peter. Next the Italian guy inspects the Gates. He takes a long time, pouring over every bit of what he surveys, then comes back to St. Peter and tells him that, "These are the most wonderful, beautiful Gates!! They were almost certainly constructed in Italy, probably Florence, in the Renaissance! Pure Works of Art! The price...$3,000. I'll need $1000 for materials, $1,000 for the finest Italian craftsmen and $1,000 for my profit." "OK, thanks," says Peter and now the Jew. He quickly surveys the Gates and returns to Peter. "The price is $2,900... That's $1,000 for you, $1,000 for me, and we hire the black guy!"
A bus stops and two Italian men get on. They seat themselves and engage in animated conversation. The lady sitting behind them ignores their conversation at first, but she listens in horror as one of the men says the following, "Emma come first. Den I come. Two asses, dey come together. I come again. Two asses, dey come together again. I come again and pee twice. Then I come once-a more." "You foul-mouthed swine," retorted the lady indignantly, "in this country we don't talk about our sex lives in public!" "Hey, coola down lady," said the man, "Imma just tellun my friend howa to spella Mississippi."
One day I go to Toronto and stay in a bigga hotel. I go down to eat soma breakfast. I tella the waitress I wanna two pissa toast. She bring me only one piss.I tella her I wanna two piss; she say, go to toilet - I say, you no understand, I wanna two piss on my plate. She say you betta no piss on plate, you sonna ma b*tch! I don't even know lady, she calla me somma ma b*tch.Then I go to pharmacia with a cougha. The man he give me candy an atell me fa cough! - I don't even know man ana he tella me FA COUGH! Later I got to eat soma lunch at Ricky's Place, the waitress she bring me spoon, a knife but no fock. I tella her I wanna fock - She tell me everybody wanna fock. I tella her, you no understand, I wanna fock on table. She say you betta not fock on table you sonnama b*tch - I not even know lady ana she call me sonna ma b*tch. So, I go back to my hotel room, an there's no sheet on my bed. I calla the manager and tella him I wanna sheet, he tell me go to toilet. So, I say, you no understand, I wanna sheet on bed. He say you betta not sheet on bed you sonna ma b*tch. I don't even know manana he call me sonna ma b*tch! I go to check out of hotel and man at desk say peace to you. I say peace on you too!, you sonna ma b*tch! - I GO BACK TO ITALY!!!
Too Good To Be True
A Russian, an Italian and an Irishman got out of work and were deciding where to go for a drink. The Irishman said "Let's all go to O'Learys. With every third round, the bartender will give each of us a free Guiness." The Italian said "That sounds good, but if we go to Baldini's with every third round they bring a free bottle of wine to the table." The Russian said "That sounds fine but if we go to Gouvstof's we drink for free all night and then go out into the parking lot and get laid." "That sounds to good to be true!" the Irishman exclaimed. "Have you actually been there?" "No," the Russian replied, "but my wife goes there all the time."
Haircut Before a Trip
A man was getting a haircut prior to a trip to Rome. He mentioned the trip to the barber who responded, "Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty and full of Italians. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?" "We're taking TWA," was the reply. "We got a great rate!" "TWA?" exclaimed the barber. "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?" "We'll be at the downtown International Marriott." "That dump!? That's the worst hotel in the city. The rooms are small, the service is surly and they're overpriced. So, whatcha doing when you get there?" "We're going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope." "That's rich," laughed the barber. "You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it." A month later, the man again came in for his regular haircut. The barber asked him about his trip to Rome. "It was wonderful," explained the man, "not only were we on time in one of TWA's brand new planes, but it was overbooked and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a beautiful 28 year old stewardess who waited on me hand and foot. And the hotel - it was great! They'd just finished a $25 million remodeling job and now it's the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us the presidential suite at no extra charge!" "Well," muttered the barber, "I know you didn't get to see the pope." "Actually, we were quite lucky, for as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the pope likes to personally meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait the pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later the pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down as he spoke a few words to me." "Really?" asked the Barber. "What'd he say?" He said, "Where'd you get the lousy haircut?