Saturday, November 1, 2008

Moldavian Joke #2

We’ve been discussing so many fascinating things in our corner of the blog-sphere recently: elections, gingerness, insanity, Esperanto, rugby, randomness, stammering, girls girls girls, language of all kinds - even Mrs Pouncer’s pussy has been touched upon. I’m very stimulated to write more on these themes, but frankly I’m exhausted. So I reckon it’s time to relax with another Moldavian joke. The same disclaimer applies as for the previous one – so don’t come and burn my village, ok? Mersi.

This Moldavian guy goes to live in another village* and wants to fit in with the locals. But when he looks over the fences into his neighbours’ gardens he sees them having sex with their cows. “Hmmm”, he thinks to himself, “I really do want to fit in here so I’d better try”. So he’s on the job and starts shouting so that his neighbours will hear and look at what he’s doing. They indeed look over his fence but then start laughing at him uncontrollably. “What are you laughing at?” he protests, “this is what you all do!” “Yes”, they reply, “but your cow is not very pretty!”

* This would never happen in reality, but let’s say for the sake of argument that his excrement haulage business has gone to the wall owing to an epidemic of bovine constipation in his village and he has to find alternative work elsewhere.

28 comments:

Gorilla Bananas said...

Well someone has to shag the ugly cows, otherwise their milk would probably turn sour. They should have bowed their heads in respect rather than laughing.

No Good Boyo said...

Excellent!

Reminds me of a Welsh joke I told here:

http://alfanalf.blogspot.com/
2006/10/tony-ble.html

Kevin Musgrove said...

Bless you my boy!

scarlet-blue said...

Splutter - £$$%^$%&%&.

Mrs Pouncer's pussy???? Ugly cows!!!!!????

I think I need to compose myself. Where is Mrs P? She'd know what to say....

Yours,
Ginger Tom

Gadjo Dilo said...

Ah but the milk here is preferred sour, Bananas. In fact, that might be the only reason that the peasantry holds back on the cow-shagging.

Thanks Boyo. Nice one, and I do declare that's exactly how Blair - nicknamed "Emily" at school, I believe - would have spoken those words!

Kevin, the Moldavian jokes seem to go down better than I'd thought they would :-)

Young Miss Scarlet, the Mrs Pouncer - Molly Sugden synthesis happened on your blog, and you will have to sort out the mess when she gets back ;-) Where has she gone, anyway? This is most unlike her.

scarlet-blue said...

SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!

By the time she gets back hopefully all of this will be forgotten. Dr Maroon seems to be AWOL as well, but I'm not drawing any conclusions.
Sx

The Dotterel said...

Hmmm.... Anyway, Gadj - it's 'job done' over at Dotterel Towers (the tag, I mean).

Can Bass 1 said...

I'm afraid I simply don't get it, Mr Dilop. And what's all this nonsense about Scarlet being ginger. Surely her name reveals sufficient information?

scarlet-blue said...

Mr Dilop

I'm going to have to remember that one!
Sx

Gadjo Dilo said...

Young Scarlet, she's back but she may be feeling too tired and emotional to have engaged with this particular debate. Dr Maroon is for real?

Well done, Dot. I could do 6 more - I'm really in the mood now!

Dear Mr Can Bass, I know, we did get rather carried away with the gingerness thing, but names, alas, actually reveal so very little - for instance "Dilop" appears only to mean something only in Kurdish! (Unless you can tell me otherwise...)

Mrs Pouncer said...

It really is terribly disappointing.
I go away on a brief cultural visit in order to marvel at the works of our munificent city fathers (such endowments! Such erections!) and on my return I find my good name tied to a hurdle and dragged through the mire. How I could be bracketed with the painted old harridan Mrs Sugden really is beyond reason! And as for linking my absence with that of Dr Maroon. Well! He is taking the cure at a run-down spa in the East Midlands and is always first in line for a high colonic.

scarlet-blue said...

So long as you got to see massive erections, Mrs P, then all is well with the world.
Sx

Barry Teeth, Beet Poet said...

I have done your tag thing.

Crabtree said...

Gadjo ,

Therefore if I well understood !?
This mister possesses the only female one to the world ,able to take 400 Kg in a night ?

Evenings it says for him "good night my flea "
And in the morning " upright large cow ! "

Gadjo Dilo said...

Dear Mrs Pouncer, you know, when the cat's away the mice will play; when you're here a certain decorum is maintained but in your absence everything degenerates into a 3rd-rate 1970s TV sitcom.

Scarlet... you see what I mean.

Thanks, Baz, I'll look at it forthwith!

Monsieur Crabtree, understanding is not a prerequisite here, which is fortunate. Bonne chance!

Mrs Pouncer said...

Gadjo! There is a new civilizing influence in town, and it is Mrs Gyppo! Yes, she has a blog. You must go there immediately (c/o Gyppo) as she invites us to be rude about his puns. Quick. Go.

Famulus said...

They have sour milk here too, but no one has ever asked me to shag their cow (I don't have one of my own). Hey, I've just thought up a joke... How'd you make a cow swing? Not a good joke. Sorry.

BTW, is this a private conversation? I've been clicking on the names of people in your comments and I seem to be going around in circles...

scarlet-blue said...

Well you haven't left a comment at mine Famulus??? So you've been there and have not said 'hello'????

Hello Gadj, I almost tagged you, but you haven't got sound and it is a music tag. I tagged Mr Boyo instead, perhaps you can do a joint tag?
Sx

Gadjo Dilo said...

Mrs P, are you Mrs Gyppo has a blog? I can't see any evidence of it yet at chez Gyppo.

Famulus - welcome, sir - where do you hail from originally? There's a touch of the Imperium Romanum (or Up Pompeii) about that name! Purleeez tell us the joke about the cow.

I'll take the tag, Young Scarlet, and I should be getting my speakers and everything set up some time next week. Ironically, our builder found a microphone hidden in the wall here, so we think it used to be wired for sound by the security police :-(

scarlet-blue said...

Bloody hell! Well you'll have to give them something to listen to then.
Sx

Famulus said...

Scarlet, yes I visited your blog and saw that your dog died. Since I'm totally crap with condolences I thought that I'd leave my introductory comment for another, better time. (You see, I "AM" Mr Insensitive.)

Gadjo Dilo, I hail from Darn Sarf. As for the joke, well, it wasn't a good one and since I'm kinda making first impressions here I think that I shall also leave that for another time. Bad taste and all...

Mrs Pouncer said...

Gadjo, Mrs Gyppo's blog can be found if you go to Gypp's and look in the left hand corner at his followers and click on that and Mrs Gyppo will appear as if by magic. Scarls and I have already been.

And Hello Again, Famulus.

Kevin Musgrove said...

Wot larks!

You could sing bad renditions of Al Jolson songs to your wall. If only to reassure the natives that you're friendly.

Famulus said...

Hello Mrs Pouncer. How are your thighs?

Barry Teeth, Beet Poet said...

I believe Mrs Pouncer has delicious thoighs, like my Christmas dinner turkey. Yum Yum.

Gadjo Dilo said...

I'll have a look for Mrs Gyppo's blog then.

Is that Darn Sarf of Britannia, Mr Famulus, or of the Roman Empire taken as a whole (making you an Egyptian)?

Regrettably, Kev, singing like (or, more dangerously, looking like) Al Jolson would not facilitate better relations with the local populace, who think that jazz is the work of the devil :-(

Is it Christmas already?? You're exciting my juices early, Barry (and that's just by mentioning Mrs Pouncer's thighs, never mind Christmas dinner).

Famulus said...

That'd be Darn Sarf in the broad area of Southampton... Whilst I have set foot in a fair few other lands, Egypt is not one of them. Yet.

No, it is not Christmas yet. Christmas starts 24 December and Christmas shopping starts a few hours before that. If I remember...

I have to say that all this comment of Mrs Pouncers thighs is doing strange things to me.

I shall now retreat to a dark and quiet corner to regain my inner balance...

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