Category: italian

Those New Yorkers!

From Ernie:

A young New York woman was so depressed that she decided to end her life by throwing herself into the ocean. But just before she could throw herself from the docks, a handsome young man stopped her.

“You have so much to live for,” said the man. “I’m a sailor, and we are off to Italy tomorrow. I can stow you away on my ship. I’ll take care of you, bring you food every day, and keep you happy.”

With nothing to lose, combined with the fact that she had always wanted to go to Italy, the woman accepted.

That night the sailor brought her aboard and hid her in a small but comfortable compartment in the hold. From then on, every night he would bring her three sandwiches, a bottle of red wine, and make love to her until dawn.

Three weeks later she was discovered by the Captain during a routine inspection.

“What are you doing here?” asked the Captain.

“I have an arrangement with one of the sailors,” she replied. “He brings me food and I get a free trip to Italy.”

“I see,” the Captain says.

Her conscience got the best of her and she added, “Plus, he’s screwing me.”

Tags captain, cheeky, depressed, ernie, Ferry, italy, make love, mischievous, New York, red wine, sailor, sandwich, Staten Island Ferry

italian marriage tasteless women

ITALIAN VIRGIN

From Ernie! This is pretty funny, but does that whole cliqued thing about how Italians speak English. You could replace Italian with just any other natonality or creed and it’d still be funny (you’d just need to change the wording a wee bit). This is one of those jokes that might be funnier if it didn’t try and make fun of Italians, as the situation could be generalized into any naive sheltered woman getting married.

Maria had just gotten married, and being a traditional Italian she was still a virgin. On her wedding night, staying at her mother’s house, she was very nervous.

Her mother reassured her;

‘Don’t worry, Maria, Tony’s a good man. Go upstairs and he’ll take care of you..

Meanwhile, I’ll be making pasta.’

So, up she went. When she got upstairs, Tony took off his shirt and exposed his hairy chest. Maria ran downstairs to her mother and says, ‘Mama, Mama, Tony’s got a big hairy chest.’

‘Don’t worry, Maria,’ says the mother, ‘all good men have hairy chests.
Go upstairs. He’ll take good care of you.’

So, up she went again. When she got up in the bedroom, Tony took off his pants exposing his hairy legs. Again, Maria ran downstairs to her mother. ‘Mama, Mama, Tony took off his pants and he’s got hairy legs!’

Tags hairy, hairy chest, hairy legs, italian, maria, marriage, mother, tony, wedding night

cat italian

Crazy Europeans!

From Adriana:

Five Germans in an Audi Quattro arrive, at the Italian border.Â The Italian Customs agent stops them and tells them:
“It’sa illegala to putta 5 people in a Quattro.”
“Vot do you mean it’z illegal?” asks the German driver.
“Quattro meansa four” replies the Italian official.
“Qvattro is just ze name of ze automobile”, the Germans saysÂ unbelievingly. “Look at ze papers: zis car is designt to kerry 5Â perzons.”
“You can’ta pulla thata one on me!”,replies the Italian customsÂ agent.
“Quattro meansa four. You hava fivea people ina your car and you areÂ thereforea breaking the law.”
The German driver replies angrily, “You idiot! Call your zupervisorÂ over,Â I vant to speak to somevone viz more intelligence!”
“Maaa sorry”, responds the Italian official, “he can’ta come. He’saÂ busyÂ witha 2 guys in a Fiat Uno !…”

http://www.timony.com/jokes/2009/01/01/crazy-europeans/

Tags Adriana, audi, audi quattro, automobile, border, border guard, cars, customs, driver, fiat, fiat uno, German, italian, quattro, uno, zupervisor

family italian

WHO IS JACK SCHITT?

Rome Trip

A great one from Ernie:

This is something to think about when negative people Â are doing their best to rain on your parade. So remember this story the next Â time someone who knows nothing, and cares less, tries to make your life miserable.

A woman was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:

‘Rome? Why would anyone want to go Â there? It’s crowded and dirty. You’re crazy to go to Rome … So, how are you Â getting there?’

‘We’re taking Continental,’ was the reply. ‘We got a great rate!’

‘Continental?’ exclaimed the hairdresser. ‘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 this exclusive little place over on Rome’s Tiber River called Teste.’

‘Don’t go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it’s gonna be something special and exclusive, but it’s really a dump, the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly, and Â they’re overpriced. Â 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 hairdresser. ‘You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Â Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.’

A month Â later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome .

‘It was wonderful,’ explained the woman, ‘not only Â were we on time in one of Continental’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were Â wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand Â and foot. And the hotel was great! They’d just finished a $5 million Â remodeling job, and now it’s a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner’s suite at Â no extra charge!’

‘Well,’ muttered the hairdresser, ‘that’s all well and good, but I know you didn’t get to see the Â Pope.’

‘Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to 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. Â Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me.’

‘Oh, really! What’d he say?’

He said: ‘Where’d you get the shitty hairdo?’

Tags city, Continental, crowed, dirty, dump, ernie, exclusive, hairdo, hairdresser, hairstylist, italy, negative, parade, planes, pope, rome, shitty, teste, tiber river, woman

health italian marriage

MAMA MIA!

Ernie’s really on a roll:

This is for all the Italians out there, and those who are lucky enough to be married to an Italian, and even to all the friends of Italians.

An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Italian anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed. Â Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands he crawled downstairs.

With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen, where if not for death’s agony, he would have thought it himself already in heaven.

For there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies. Â Was it heaven? Â Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man? Â Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture.

His parched lips parted, the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.
The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife. ‘Get out of here!’ she shouted, ‘They’re for the funeral!’

Tags anisette, aroma, cookie, death, death bed, ernie, funeral, husband, italian, italy, MAMA MIA, wife.

italian police

Tomato Garden

This one’s from Edel, I’m pretty sure I saw this one before except the main characters are Irish.

An old Italian man lived alone in the country. HeÂ wanted to dig his tomato garden, but it was very hard work as the ground wasÂ hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The oldÂ man wrote a letter to his son and described hisÂ predicament.

[] Dear Vincent,

I am feeling prettyÂ badly because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden thisÂ year. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would beÂ happy to dig the plot for me.

Love, Dad

A few days later heÂ received a letter from his son:

Dear Dad,

Don’t dig up thatÂ garden. That’s where I buried the bodies.

Love,Â Vinnie

At 4:00 a.m. the next morning F.B.I. agents and localÂ police arrived and dug up the entire garden without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.

That same day the old manÂ received another letter from his son:

Dear Dad,

Go aheadÂ and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under theÂ circumstances.

Love you,Â Vinnie