Jokes about Cowboys and Indians
A legend of the Native Americans
While many people know of Sequoya, the Native American genius who developed the Cherokee alphabet, fewer have heard of another visionary – yet he made a discovery no less groundbreaking, owing nothing to the white man’s knowledge.
It fell out like this: In the early 1800s, a certain chief, renowned among his people for his wise leadership, skilful hunting and (when necessary) prowess in battle, went to his medicine man with a highly personal problem: Despite many years of marriage and three beautiful wives, the chief had no children to follow after him, and he had no idea why. The medicine man, after lengthy research, told him what the matter was. According to custom and tradition, the chief should have presented each of his wives with a rare and precious animal skin to lie upon when they were seeking to make a baby, and because he had omitted to do this, the wrathful spirits had closed the wombs of all three. After so many years, the chief would need to resort to heroic measures to appease the spirits – yet, said the medicine man, to such a great chief this should be well within his compass.
The task, he was told, was to journey further than any chief of legend, and find three animals that no red man had ever seen or imagined, and return with their hides to present to his wives. Then, and only then, would the spirits be satisfied. Accordingly, the chief prepared himself a great canoe and loaded it with supplies of all kind ready for the great journey; and one fine day he set off into the western ocean, not knowing where he was bound.
After a long voyage, the chief found himself in a land of arid deserts where black men threw strange sticks for weapons, and hunted a strange animal like a deer that went in great bounds upon its hind legs. Learning that this was a *kangaroo*, the chief hunted one, killed it, skinned it, and put the hide in his canoe.
Journeying on, the chief came to another land of brown men and tall grasses where there roamed a mighty creature far exceeding in size and power the mountain lion of his homeland, decked in a coat of orange and black. Learning that this was a *tiger*, the chief hunted one, killed it, skinned it, and put the hide in his canoe.
Finally, in a land of rivers and swamps, the chief learned of a monstrous grey terror with a maw as large as a tepee, with tusks that could rend a man limb from limb, and that this creature was a *hippopotamus*. Therefore he hunted one, killed it, skinned it, and put the hide in his canoe.
Returning home, the chief presented each of his wives with one of the wondrous hides, and the spirits were at last appeased, and within the year the chief was the proud father of four strong babies. The squaw who received the kangaroo skin bore a maiden as beautiful as the first dawn of Spring, the squaw who received the tiger skin bore a son as splendid as the tallest tree in the forest, while the third squaw bore twins, each as admirable as their brother and sister.
History has shamefully lost the name of this pioneer, who by his magnificent deeds unlocked a great secret for his people: that the squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sum of the squaws on the other two hides.
So a Cowboy is on the run from the Native Americans...
He is pursued by the whole tribe, and only has one bullet left in his gun. He rides forth and thinks to himself, "That's it, I am fuскеd."
Suddenly the Angel comes down from Heavens and tells him, "You ain't 'fuскеd' just yet; go hide in that bush." The Cowboy promptly hides in the bush, his adversaries are initially distraught but then the Sharp Eye, the chief's eldest son, spots him and continues the chase."
"I am truly fuскеd now," says the Cowboy to himself; but the Angel intercedes again, saying "You ain't truly fuскеd just yet, go hide in the cave." He follows the Angel's advise, but the Sharp Eye and his henchmen find him again and continue the pursuit.
Finally, his stallion gives up on him, the tribe surrounds him and the Cowboy thinks, "Well, at last, I am truly fuскеd." The Angel then appears and says,
"No, you ain't fuскеd just yet, you have one last bullet, кill the Chief's son." Cowboy takes out his gun and kills the Sharp Eye, chief's son.
"Well, *now* you're truly fuскеd," says the Angel.
A Cowboy from Ft. Worth, Texas walked into a bank in New York City and asked for the loan officer.
The Cowboy told the loan officer that he was going to Paris for an international festival for two weeks and needed to borrow $5,000 and that he was not a depositor of the bank.
The bank officer told him that the bank would need some form of security for the loan, so the old cowboy handed over the keys to a new Ferrari. The car was parked on the street in front of the bank. The ole cowboy produced the title and everything checked out. The loan officer agreed to hold the car as collateral for the loan and apologized for having to charge 12% interest.
Later, the bank's president and its officers all enjoyed a good laugh at the cowboy from the south for using a $250,000 Ferrari as collateral for a $5,000 loan. An employee of the bank then drove the Ferrari into the bank's private underground garage and safely parked it.
Two weeks later, the ole cowboy returned, repaid the $5,000 and the interest of $23.07. The loan officer said, 'Sir, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out on Dunn & Bradstreet and found that you are a Distinguished Alumni From Texas A&M, a highly sophisticated investor and a multi-millionaire with real estate and financial interests all over the world. Your investments include a large number of wind turbines around Sweetwater, Texas . What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?
The good 'ole Texas boy replied, 'Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $23.07 and expect it to be there when I return?'
Once there was a young boy, around 8 years old, who lived in a village at the bottom of a hill. On top of the hill was a temple where monks lived. One day, he heard a strange sound coming from the top of the hill. Curious, he walks up the hill and knocks on the giant doors at the front of the temple. The head monk answers the door and asks what he can do for the kid. However, when the kid asks what the sound was, he simply replies, “I can’t tell you, you’re not a monk.” So the boy walks home sadly. 3 years later, he hears it again. Again, he was curious, and he thought it would bother him for life if he didn’t find out what it was. So he walked back up to the temple, knocked on the door, and was greeted by the head monk. Again, when asked about the sound, he responded with, “I can’t tell you, you’re not a monk.” Now, the kid is so desperate to find the sound that he asks, “Alright, how do I become a monk?” The head monk responds, “Young boy, In order to become a monk, you must count every grain of sand in Africa.” So once he turns 16, he drives to Africa and counts the sand. When he comes back, he’s 34 years old. He knocks on the temple door and the head monk answers. “I did it, I counted every grain of sand!” Surprised, the head monk says, “Truly? You are now a monk, and can now learn of the sound! You must find the key first.” The man says, “OK! Where is it?”
“Back in Africa.” The man sighs, goes back to Africa and returns with the key. There are three fires in the way, so he jumps over the first fire, jumps over the second fire, and the key falls into the third fire. Terrified, he returns to the head monk. “Surely for a door that’s this important, there must be a spare key somewhere, right?”
“Yeah, there’s one in the sheriff’s office at the bottom of the hill.”
“Why couldn’t you tell me that first?”
“It’s part of becoming a monk.” So the man goes to the sheriff’s office and gets the key. He jumps over the fires, unlocks the door, and finds out what the sound is.
Two boys are playing football in Central Park when one is attacked by a rabid rottweiler. Thinking quickly, the other boy rips a board off of a nearby fence, wedges it down the dog's collar and twists, breaking the dog's neck.
A reporter strolling by sees the incident, and rushes over to interview the boy.
"Young Giants Fаn Saves Friend From Vicious Animal," he writes in his notebook.
"But I'm not a Giants fаn," the little hero replies.
"Sorry, since we are in New York, I just assumed you were," says the reporter.
"Little Jets Fаn Rescues Friend From Horrific Attack," he writes in his notebook.
"I'm not a Jets fаn either," the boy says.
"I assumed everyone in New York was either for the Giants or Jets. What team do you root for?" the reporter asks.
"I'm a Cowboys fаn," the child says.
The reporter starts a new sheet in his notebook and writes, "Little Redneck Maniac Kills Beloved Family Pet".