Category Archives: Humor

Mother, Daughter and the Pies

Nationality: British
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Manchester
Performance Date: April 21, 2017
Primary Language: English

Once upon a time there were a woman who baked five pies. And when they come out of the oven, they was that overbaked the crust were too hard to eat. So she says to her daughter:

“Put them pies on the shelf, and leave ’em there a little, and they’ll get come again and get soft”.

But the daughter, said to herself: “Well, if they’ll come again, I’ll eat ’em now.” And she set to work and ate them all.

Come supper-time, the woman she said: “Get one of them pies. They’ve come again now.”

The daughter she went and she looked, and there warn’t nothing’ but the dishes of the pie she had ate. So back she come and says she: “No, they haven’t come again.”

“Not none of ’em?” says the woman.

“Not none of ’em,” says daughter.

“Well, come again, or not come again,” says the woman, “I’ll ha’ one for supper.”

“But you can’t, if they ain’t come,” says the gal.

“But I can,” says she. “Go back, and bring the best of what we got.”

“Best or worst,” says the gal, “I’ve ate ’em all, and you can’t ha’ one till that’s come agin.”

Well, the woman she were wholly bate, and she took her spinning’ to the door to spin, and as she span she sang: “My daughter ate five pies to-day. My daughter ate five pies to-day.”

The mayor of the village was coming down the street and he hard her sing, but what she sang he couldn’t hear, so he stopped and said:

“What were you singing ma’am?”

The woman she were ashamed to let him hare what her daughter had been doing’, so she sang: “My darter ha’ spun five, five skeins to-day. My darter ha’ spun five, five skeins to-day.” The lesson taught by this story is essentially not to set up others you care about at the expense of a joke and the importance of putting more significant things like familial bonds over proving a point regarding someone’s wrongdoings.

 

The Polite Moose

Nationality: Bulgarian
Age: 39
Occupation: Guest Services Manager
Residence: Dennis, MA
Performance Date: 3/16/17
Primary Language: English
Language: Bulgarian is his primary language; English is his secondary language

“So Connor, Dave, and (insert the name of the person you’re telling the joke to; we’ll say Jack in this case) went out camping.  They went out camping, just in the woods.  They’re sitting by the bonfire and the Park Ranger stops by to, ya know, make sure Connor, Dave, and Jack are following the rules of the park.  And they talk for a little and everything is all good, but just before the Park Ranger leaves, he says, “Just a heads up, you know, nothing too bad to worry about, but like there’s a Polite Moose that lives in this forest and every now and then he might come into somebody’s camp and uhh…..  I don’t know how to say it, but ya know, like he fucks one of us.  But like, so many people here, nobody heard of Moose in long time, so like, nothing to worry about.”  So ya know, like the boys have fun, they drink a little, and then they all go to their tents, uh, for the night, and Jack was really concerned about the Polite Moose, like ya know, he’s gonna come fuck him in the middle of the night.  So they were drinking like wine or champagne earlier, so he says, ya know, I’m gonna put this champagne cork up my butt, so even if like I’m sleeping and the Moose comes and wants to fuck me, ya know, he won’t be able to penetrate me, ya know.  So the other one’s are sleeping in the middle of the night, it was very dark and quiet… All of the sudden you hear from Jack’s tent “(sound of cork being uncorked, then in a very deep voice) Good evening, Jack.”

 

Conclusion:

This joke relies heavily on the delivery, therefore it’s tough to get it fully across on paper.  During the punchline, the teller will stick his finger inside his cheek and then pull it out quickly, making a popping sound.  Then he will make his voice substantially deeper and say “Good Evening, (whoever he’s telling the joke to)”  I first heard this joke as a 16 or 17 year old while I was working my summer job.  Every summer since I was 16, I’ve done valet parking at a resort on Cape Cod in Massachusetts.  The rest of the valets and I have a fair amount of downtime during the 8 hour shift, so we just tell jokes and stories to pass the time.  This joke belongs to my boss and good friend, Rado.  Rado is originally from Sofia, Bulgaria.  He came to the US a little over 10 years ago.  It was tough to get his Bulgarian accent to translate onto the page, but listening to him tell the joke in imperfect English is hilarious.   

“Thank You For All The Useless Things You Have Given Us.”

Nationality: Cuban
Age: 56
Occupation: Retired
Residence: Florida
Performance Date: April 10, 2017
Primary Language: English
Language: Spanish

My family members on my dad’s side of the family have a tendency to poke fun at each other, especially my dad and his siblings, and when someone does something that the others can make fun of them for, they hold it against them for as long as they can. One example of this is a story about my dad when he was little. My aunt joyfully told me the following story about her brother:

 

“My father (your Abuelo) [my grandfather], was a Doctor in Cuba. At times he would have to visit his patients on horseback—many of them lived in the country, and it was just more accessible that way. On one occasion, he took your dad to visit a family that needed treatment. When they arrived, he told José [my dad and her brother] to be still and behave—something that a four-year-old would have had a problem doing, but he really looked up to Dad. He knew that he was a very important person, doing a very important job. When Abuelo was finished, the family was so grateful to him, they wanted to pay him, but they had no money. Abuelo told them not to worry about it—they were poor. So they offered him things from the garden: a dozen eggs, a chicken, bread, and some vegetables. Abuelo was very gracious. He asked them to give it to his son, as he folded up his stethoscope packed up his doctor bag. He then turned to José and said, “What do you say?” José said, “Thank you for all the useless things you have given us.” Bringing up children is never easy…. [sighs].”

Secret Handshake

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: San Luis Obispo, CA
Performance Date: 4/15/17
Primary Language: English

SP is a current student at California Polytechnic University at San Luis Obispo where she studies Geography and Anthropology. She is originally from Seattle, WA and grew up in a small town nearby. She grew up in a typical American middle-class family. She attended a public high school in Washington where she grew up with a sister and her mother and father. She has a background of being half-Mexican and half Irish/Italian that has in some ways heavily influenced her beliefs as well as her religious beliefs rooted in Catholicism.

Is there anything you learned from your family that you still actively do today? Like a greeting or gesture that is something you feel is unique to you?

SP: Well me and my dad’s side of the family have this secret handshake that my dad made up. At first I think it was just a thing between him, me and my sister but now it has turned in to something all of cousins know how to do. It is really simple it is just some fist bumps and hand grabs and isn’t very hard to remember. It sort has become a family tradition with anyone he is close within the family who is younger. It keeps all of u having something in common that we all know as being the younger generation, we are a bit more separated from the older family in a way.

Do you still remember the handshake and use it regularly?

SP: Yeah, I still remember it, I have known it for almost 15 years now so it is like engrained in my brain forever at this point. I think it is only really used at family gatherings and we don’t have as many of those because of the fact that all of us have mostly gone to college and all the older aunts and uncles are actually getting to an older age where they come to less events because they have moved away or are spending time with other family. It is rare we get together but when we do my dad always asks us and our cousins in we remember it and we always do. It is nice that he still reminds us all in a way that he hasn’t forgotten us or that fact that we all share this secret technique together. Whenever I see people with handshakes it reminds me of my dad and our family.

Analysis:

Handshakes are a dying form of gesture or greeting. It is more common among children in younger ages as a way of bonding or sharing secrets between friends in a school yard setting. IT is now more uncommon since the digital age. People create common emoji messages or snapchats they can send back and forth rather than the significance of handshakes and jumping rope just do not exist after the age of eight or so. Handshakes just do not exist for the most part but used to be a huge form of bonding and communication. I remember when I was younger me and my friends created many handshakes we could share just between one person that made you feel like you had a special connection or unique thing no one else could share. It is sad to see them mostly die out but for those that remain it creates an everlasting bond between you and the other person.

The Bus Joke

Nationality: Vietnamese
Age: 59
Occupation: Engineer
Residence: San Jose, California
Performance Date: December 15th, 2010
Primary Language: English
Language: Vietnamese

This is a fake story/joke that my dad likes to tell people, which he will pretend is a ghost story. My dad works for the US Department of Defense as an engineer, and he has been stationed at aerospace companies across California. When he was younger and he and my mom were still dating, he worked in Southern California, while my mom worked in the Bay Area. Because of this, every other weekend, he would take a bus back and forth between the two areas so he could see her. This story is based on one of his times on the bus, and is brought up any time that people are talking about scary stories or ghosts.

The tone of the storytelling is as if this is a real occurrence, and while he told the story, his face was very serious, as if it were a real ghost story. The original story was told in Vietnamese, but this is a translation:

 

“Did I ever tell you about the time that I saw a real ghost? When I was younger, I was working down near LA, but your mom was up in San Jose, so I would go and visit her every few weekends. I always took the bus out of Orange County, and one day, I had to catch the late-night bus on Friday because I was held back during work. So I sat down on the bus, and there were only a few other people because it was so late. Not long after it left, I became very drowsy and fell asleep.

When I woke up a few hours later, I realized that the bus was completely dark, and everyone else was gone. The driver was nowhere to be found, but when I looked outside of the window, I saw that the bus was still moving forward, very slowly. I was so scared, so I called out,

‘Hey! Is anybody there?”

And suddenly, I heard a voice!

‘Hey! Idiot! Come help us push the bus!’ ”

 

Collector’s comments:

This is one of the many jokes that my dad likes to tell. The effectiveness of the joke is very dependent on how serious the teller seems, and how believable he or she can make it. It takes advantage of the tension built up by the fear of the audience based on the belief that they are about to hear an actual ghost story, and then makes a silly, but welcome release that leaves the audience either laughing or groaning. The ghost portion is not completely made up however, as I have heard other stories about people making the trip between Northern California to Southern California late at night and seeing paranormal activity, such as the figure of a woman on the side of the road, or finding hand prints on their rear windows. These occurrences usually happen at 3 AM, or the ghosting hour, and I have heard multiple versions from different relatives. Over all, this story doubles as both a ghost legend and a joke, making it a combination of folklore.