Jeer Joker: Welsh jokes - юмор по-уэльски

Welsh jokes - юмор по-уэльски



The Welsh have found two more uses for sheep - wool and meat.


The famous Welsh ship owner, Mr Lloyd, was having his house built on a large piece of land just outside Cardiff.
He said to the architect, "Don't disturb that tree over there because I had my first bit of sex under that tree!"
"How sentimental of you Mr. Lloyd," replied the architect, "That very tree huh?"
"Yep, that's right," continued Mr Lloyd, "And don't damage that tree on the other side because that's where her mother stood and watched me have my first bit of sex with her daughter!"
"What?" replied the architect, "Her mother just stood there and watched you have your way with her daughter?"
"Yep," said Mr Lloyd, "she shure did!"
"But Mr Lloyd," said the architect, "didn't she say anything?"
"Yes she sure as hell did," smiled Mr Lloyd, "She said BAAAAAAAAAA!"


A man and his wife were driving through Wales on their holidays when they suddenly saw a sign that said "Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch".
The husband attempts to say it, but his wife starts laughing and soon this turns into a argument, so much so that they decide to pull into the nearest motorway restaurant.
Finishing their meal, the wife can't help but question the waitress.
"Excuse me, miss," asked the wife, "but can you settle an argument between my husband and me? Can you pronounce the name of where we are, but very slowly please."
The cashier looks at the woman funny and says, "Sure, you are in Liiiiittttttllllleeeee Chhhhhheeeeefffff!"


A young man moves to a village in Wales and gets talking to an old man from the village.
He asks the old man what his name is. The old man gets very irate at this point and says.
"See that line of houses over there? I built them all, but do they call me Jones the house builder? Do they hell! See those railway lines over there? I laid them all, but do they call me Jones the engineer? Do they hell! See those bridges over that river? I built them all, but do they call me Jones the bridge builder? Do they hell! But a long long long time ago I fucked one sheep..."


WELSH FRICTION
The Scene: John Trovolta and Samuel J. Jackson sitting in car talking.
(Pulp Fiction music fades off...)
S: Ok, so tell me again about the Welsh.
J: Whaddya wanna know?
S: Beastiality is legal there right?
J: Yeah, its legal but it ain't a 100% legal. I mean you can't just walk into a field, pick up a sheep and start pumpin' away. They wan't you to shag sheep in your home or certain designated places.
S: And those are valleys?
J: Ok, it breaks down like this: it's legal to buy a sheep, it's legal to own a sheep and if you're a farmer it's legal to sell or loan sheep, it's illegal to fuck sheep in public but... but... but that doesn't matter 'cos, getta loada this, the police in Wales are too stupid to notice you've got a sheep hanging off your dick. I mean that's the interlect the police in Wales don't have.
S: Arrr man. I'm not goin', that's all there is too it, I'm never fuckin' goin'.
J: Nah man, you'd hate it the most. But do know what the funniest thing about Wales is?
S: What?
J: It's the little differences, I mean they got the same kinda people over there as we got here, but there they're a little different.
S: Example?
J: Ok. You can walk into a movie theatre in Cardiff and order a lump of coal, and I'm not talkin' about no paper cup, I'm talkin' about a lump of coal. And in Swansea you can buy coal in MacDonalds. Do you know what they call a 1/4 pounder with cheese in Wales?
S: They don't call it a 1/4 pounder with cheese?
J: Nah man, they don't have fractions, they wouldn't know what the fuck a 1/4 pounder is.
S: So whadda they call it?
J: A (assumes welsh accent) "Ham and Cheese Sandwhichchchch".
S: A Ham and Cheese Sandwichchchchch?
J: That's right.
S: And whadda they call a Big Mac?
J: A Big Macs a Big Mac but there they call it a Bich Machch (accent again).
S: (immitating accent badly) A Bichch Machchchchchchch?
J: Ha ha ha...
S: Whadda they call a Whopper?
J: I don't know, I didn't go outside. Do you know what they put on French Fries in Swansea instead of ketch-up?
S: What?
J: Coal.
S: Arrr man...
J: I've seen 'um do it man, they fuckin' drown 'um in that shit.


A Russian spy was dropped by parachute in the Welsh hills with instructions to contact a Mr. Jones who lived in the small village of Llanfair, and give him the code message "the tulips are blooming well today."
Arriving at the village he asked a small boy where Mr. Jones lived and was directed to a small cottage at the end of the village.
He knocked on the door and the owner emerged. "Are you Mr. Jones?"
"I am."
"The tulips are blooming well today."
Mr. Jones stared at him in amazement and then smiled.
"Ah, you must have come to the wrong house. It's Jones-the-spy you want."


Some names from Wales:
- The man with only two teeth left and those in the front of his mouth - Dai central eating.
- Cardiff strip club owner - Aaron the G string.
- The village gossip you can never get rid of: Mrs. Jones thestaymaker.
- After H.G. Wells discovered that Oliver Cromwell's real name was Williams and that his ancestors came from Margam, he always referred to the great man as "Williams-the-conqueror".
- The local chiropodist - Williams the corn-curer.
- A Welsh physicist - Dai-atomic.
- A reckless risk-taker - Huw ap Hazard.


One day a travelling salesman was driving around rural Wales and decided to stay the night in a farmhouse.
After enjoying a fine meal with the farmer, the salesman turned to him and said, "What is it like for hiring a companion for the evening?"
"Well," replied the farmer, "I'm afraid there are not many women around these parts. But there's always Arthur........."
"Oh?" said the salesman, intrigued, "How much does he charge then?"
"It will cost you £100." replied the farmer.
The salesman thought for a minute then said, "That's a bit expensive!"
"Well," said the farmer, "the local magistrate takes out £40 because he doesn't approve of those kind of things."
"Oh," answered the man, "so that's £40 for the magistrate and £60 for Arthur."
The farmer shook his head, "No, the local constable also takes £40 because he doesn't approve of those kind of things!"
"Jesus," replied the salesman, "So the magistrate gets £40, the cop gets £40 that only leaves £20 for Arthur! Thats no way to make a living!"
The farmer shook his head again and said, "No - We pay Gareth and Dai £10 each to hold Arthur down, because he doesn't approve of that sort of thing either!"


Just seen the Welsh rugby union team: Jones, Jones, Jones, Twain, Jones, Jones, Jones...
Got me thinking... Twain is a strange name!

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