Foreign humor you just don't get

Since the thread has devolved into “Jokes about the Soviet Union”, I’ll add one of my favourites:

Ivan comes home from his job in Moscow one day and discovers his application to buy a car has been approved, but due to production delays it won’t be delivered to him for another two years or so.

He calls up the factory. “Hello, this is Ivan and I just got a letter saying that my car won’t be delivered for another two years or so.”

“That’s right” explains the foreman. “There have been some production delays, I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright” explains Ivan. “What I was ringing to ask about was if the car was going to be delivered on a Tuesday in two years or so?”

“Why” asks the foreman “Should it matter on which day of the week you get your car if it’s not for two years or so?”

“Well, it can’t be delivered on a Tuesday in two years or so.” Ivan insists.

“Why not?” the foreman asks.

“Because that’s when the plumber is coming” replies Ivan.

My three favorite Soviet-era jokes:

A man on a Leningrad bus tells a joke: “Do you know why policemen always go in pairs?”
“No, why?” his seatmate asks.
“It’s specialization: one knows how to read, the other, how to write.”
A hand promptly claps him on the shoulder — a huge policeman is standing right behind him, and barks, “Your papers!” The hapless joke-teller surrenders his papers. The policeman opens them, reads, and nods to his partner: “Write him a ticket, Yuri.”

Two policemen are standing on a streetcorner in Moscow fifteen minutes before curfew. A civilian runs by and one of the policemen shoots him.
“What’d you do that for?” the other cop protests. “He had another fifteen minutes to get home.”
The first cop shrugs. “I know where he lives. He never would’ve made it.”

The Soviet Union falls and the Romanov monarchy is restored. Gorbachev is exiled to Siberia. Months later he learns that his wife, back in Moscow, is very ill, and he grows desperate to see her. He is finally able to get the new Tsar on the phone, and begs the monarch to permit him to return to the capital to attend to his ailing wife. The Tsar puts his hand over the receiver and says to his closest advisor, “I don’t know, what do you think, Gromyko?”

Another Ukranian family favorite. My wife particularly loves this one:

Mikhola and Andrei are out herding sheep. Andrei is listening to BBC on his new transistor radio.

“Mikhola!” he shouts " Moskali just went to the moon!"

“All of them?” asks Mikhola.

“No, just one.”

“Then why are you bothering me?”

My theater company is in rehearsal for Iolanthe, a Gilbert & Sullivan operetta about what happens when a band of angry fairies (wings, magic wands, the whole nine yards) takes over Parliament. Keep in mind that this is a product of the prudery-obsessed Victorian era, and, what is more, that W.S. Gilbert (the author and lyricist) objected to ANY smuttiness whatsoever in his productions. This being said, the libretto reads to modern – particularly American – ears as a feast of double-entendre and gay jokes. I foresee that one of the biggest challenges in performing this show will be trying to keep a straight face as the audience giggles and titters over lines that were perfectly innocent in their original context, but have since gained layers of meaning that would give their author fits of apoplexy were he not already (and quite conveniently) dead.

An example:

Be firm, be firm, my pecker.

A few days before The Gondoliers went up, a scene and a song were pulled for being too racy. I music directed the show 15 years ago, and the stage director restored the missing scene. At the end of one performance, a little old lady approached him and said “Well! I can see why they deleted that disgusting scene!” He shoots, he scores.

The scene was that two men had inadvertantly married three women. The men spoke together as one, as did the women.

“My dear Thomas – What is the use of one third of me being single when I don’t know which third it is?”

“Teasing Tom was a very bad boy
A great big squirt was his favourite toy”

Oh Mount Vesuvius, here we are at arithmetic! Speaking as a former Giuseppe, that’s one Gondoliers scene it would never have occurred to me to interpret smuttily. That little old lady must’ve had a very dirty mind indeed.

Jerry Lewis.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that Tessa, Gianetta, and Cassilda covered their chests and groins as they said it.

Hey, I think I got that one! Whoever was in power, Gromyko somehow managed to have their ear, right? I feel quite proud of myself.

We have somebody like that here, called Peter Mandelson. Sorry, Baron Mandelson.

I’m Canadian, born and raised, and I guess I just don’t have a Canadian sense of humour or something. Corner Gas, Trailer Park Boys, This Hour Has 22 Minutes, Royal Canadian Air Farce, Wayne & Schuster, they’re all terribly unfunny to me. The only one I can think of that I ever liked was SCTV. I wonder why that is.

¿Cuál es el colmo de un gallo?

Pedir lapiz teniendo plumas.

I should add that I do get that joke (I speak Spanish) but it doesn’t translate into English at all, as we have two different words for plumas - plumes and pens.

I’ve also heard it as, “…so the bartender gave it to her,” which would work.

Precisely. Gromyko was the consummate shrewd political insider, from Stalin all the way to Gorbachev.

I “got” and laughed at both of them :slight_smile:

Frankly I’m mildly surprised that these two shows made it to Ireland! Or perhaps it’s your American girlfriend’s influence. (Ya’ I’m stocking your every move.)

Most decent shows from America/Canada make it to these shores. I also like Da Vinci’s Inquest.

Not foreign humour, per se, but an interesting observation about francophones and anglophones in Québec.

A classmate of mine is American, and doesn’t speak French at all, though he did take the time to learn one sentence, which he was certain would be a hit:

“Je suis un très grand pamplemousse*”

Much to his dismay, French women in Montreal just tend to look at him like he’s completely crazy. Most English women crack up.

Apparently the word “pamplemousse” is hysterical to anglophones (something I noticed in Ontario, too, as it was the one and only word people would say when asked if they spoke French!) but there is nothing remotely funny about it to francophones. We still don’t know why that is.
The second most hysterical French word to English speakers seems to be “ananas**”.

*“I am a very large grapefruit”
**“pineapple”

Pamplemousse doesn’t sound at all sensible- when you’re faced with abricot, cerise, citron, orange, and pêche, pamplemousse sounds like a word made up to be absurd- especially with the “mousse” ending, which brings to mind great antlered beasts, chocolate dessert, or hair product.

I don’t know why “ananas” is funny for anyone else, but for me, it’s because my name is Anna, and a lot of my friends call me “anna-na!” every now and then. (Because of the French pineapple, they also decided that if we had nicknames based on cocktails, I’d be Pina Colada.)

We do have the word “quill”, which is another word for feather or plume, and which also means a pen, specifically one made from a feather.