Long-form joke that a Romanian friend of mine likes to tell. It mostly just confuses people, but I like it.
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A reporter from Bucharest is assigned to write a fluff piece on life in rural Romania. So he gets in his car and heads out into the country, driving until he sees a meadow on his left, and in it a farmer standing next to a large flock of fluffy white sheep. He decides it looks interesting enough, pulls over, and asks the farmer if he would like to be interviewed.
"What, you want to know about the sheep?" asks the farmer.
"Sure!" replies the reporter. "For a start.. um... do you raise these sheep for wool or for mutton?"
"I raise them for everything!" exclaims the farmer. "These sheep grow the finest, warmest, cleanest wool anywhere! It's so fluffy and easy to work with, and the sheep don't run around or make a fuss at all when we shear them. Their wool makes the best and the warmest coats, and hats, and scarves..."
Just then the reporter catches sight of a small shabby-looking herd of black sheep, huddled on their own in a far corner of the field. Intrigued, he points at them and asks the farmer "What about those sheep in the corner there?"
The farmer glances over, frowns, and says "Well, their wool is also just fine, just fine. But these sheep here!" - a grand sweep of his arm indicates the nearby flock - "these sheep give the finest, creamiest, healthiest milk you could imagine! It's so rich and full, it never goes bad, and we make it into the most delicious cheeses you could ever hope to taste! Hard cheeses and soft cheeses and crumbly cheeses..."
The reporter nods along, and then motions to the sheep in the corner again and says "What about those sheep, though?"
The farmer waves a hand dismissively in their direction and says "Well, their milk is also delicious, perfect, yes. But these sheep here! They produce the tastiest, tenderest, most delectable mutton in the world! It can't be overcooked, it's always wonderfully juicy; you would never get tired of eating it!..."
The reporter, puzzled now, points yet again to the flock in the corner and asks "Yes, but those sheep there - what about them?"
The farmer shoots an angry look in that direction and says "Well, their mutton is also wonderful, perfect, of course. But THESE sheep here-"
"Look," says the reporter, "what's the deal with those sheep? Why won't you talk about them?"
"Because," says the farmer, "these sheep here, these sheep are mine!"
"Oh, I see!" says the reporter. "Who do those sheep belong to, then?"
"Well," sighs the farmer, "those are mine too."
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Topic: Terrible Jokes (Read 714886 times)