An Englishman, roused by a Scot’s scorn of his race, protested that he was born an Englishman and hoped to die an Englishman.
“Man,” scoffed the Scot,
“hiv ye nae ambeetion?”
–Tom (Who really is quite fond of English people)
A Vermont farmer and a Texas rancher happened to meet. Naturally, talk turned to their respective homesteads.
The Texan said, “Well, on my ranch, I can get in the car at one end of the ranch and drive all day, stop for the night, get up the next day and drive all day, stop for the second night, get up on the third day, and I finally get to the other end of my ranch around noon of the third day.”
The Vermont farmer said, “Ayup. Ah had a car like that once.”
LOL!
A Texan walked into an Alaskan bar one night - the only bar (and town) in over 100 miles in any direction.
Though folks were friendly enough, he did take some chaff - Alaska having replaced Texas as the largest state, producing more oil, and having more severe weather, among others.
After a few more like this (and a few more drinks) he’d had enough. “Texas may not be the largest state anymore, but we still breed the toughest men!” he declaimed.
Rather than the fight he expected, all he got was a big round of laughter from the locals. After a couple of attempts, a grizzled old timer managed to calm down enough to explain why: up here, he was told, to be considered tough a man needed to be able to empty a bottle of whiskey without stopping to breathe, wrestle a grizzly bear into submission, then make love to an Eskimo woman at least three times before sleeping.
“I can do that!” the Texan claimed.
A bottle of whiskey was produced. After a couple of deep breaths, he raised it to his lips - and it was empty before he put it down, swaying but still on his feet.
“Now, whersh them grishly bears?” he asked. Following directions, he was soon weaving his way off into the hills.
For an hour or so, nothing happened - those who still remembered him figured he was sleeping it off under a tree.
But then, all hell broke out up in the hills - shouts, roaring, crashing, the sound of something large being bounced off trees . . . Finally, it died down to a hopeless whimpering before fading away.
Folks were feeling worried now, but other than “the hills” nobody knew how to find him. They were still discussing it when the door slammed open again, and there he was - banged, battered, bruised, his clothes torn half off - but an even more battered bear was following meekly behind him, a haunted look on its face.
Silence fell over the room. When he saw he had everyone’s attention, a satisfied smile appeared on the Texan’s face. “Now,” he said “Where’s this Eskimo woman I’ve got to wrestle?”
Hello 
Lucky I was passing through 
Theres this Scottish bloke swimming in the sea and he gets attacked by a massive shark. All of a sudden 3 Englishmen come racing to the stricken mans rescue. They shoot the shark and beat it until the shark is dead and has released the Scotsman. They then place the dead shark on a raft and row it to shore. They then place the injured, half dead Scotsman onto a seperate boat and take him to the shore.
At the shore an angel comes down from heaven and speaks to the 3 brave Englishmen who killed the shark and saved the Jock. “God bless each of you brave Englishmen, we in heaven used to think the British people hated each other and the English were bigotted against the Scottish. But you’ve proved this is wrong by saving that man.” The angel then ascends into heaven.
One of the English guys looks at the others and says “that angel might know a bit about God and Heaven, but it knows f*ck all about Shark fishing. Hows the bait doing?”
Three Scots and three English are travelling by train to a football
match in London. At the station, the three Scots each buy a ticket and
watch as the three English buy just one ticket between them. “How are the three of you going to travel on only one ticket?” asks one of the Scots. “Watch and learn,” answers one of the English. They all board the train. The Scots take their respective seats but all three English cram into a toilet and close the door behind them.
Shortly after the train has departed, the conductor arrives to collect the tickets. He knocks on the toilet door and says, “Ticket please.” The door opens just a crack and a single arm emerges with a ticket in hand. The
conductor takes it and moves on. The Scots are mightily impressed by
this, so after the game, they decide to copy the English (like always!)
on the return trip and save some money.
When they get to the station, they buy a single ticket for the return
trip… To their astonishment, the English don’t buy a ticket at all!!
“How are you going to travel without a ticket?” ask the perplexed Scots.
“Watch and learn…” says one English lad.
When they board the train the three English cram into a toilet and soon after the three Scots pile into another nearby. The train departs. Shortly afterwards, one of the English lads leaves the toilet and sneaks across to the toilet where the Scots are hiding. He knocks on the door and says, “Ticket please…”
Hamish McDonald from the Isle of Skye went to study at an English university. He stayed in the halls of residence, together with all the other first-years. After about a month, his mum came down to visit.
‘So, Hamish dear, how are the English students?’ she asked.
‘Och, they are terrible, Mum,’ said Hamish. ‘The guy next door, he jist daes nothin’ but sit there and wail tha whole time, an tha guy on tha other side keeps bangin’ his heed on the wall a’ night.’
‘That soonds awful!’ replied his mum in astonishment. ‘Hoo dae ye put up wi’ it?’
'Ah weel, ‘tis easy really. I jist sit here, playing ma bagpipes!’
A stretch of land in Scotland had for some time been disputed between England and Scotland. Old Mrs. McFarlane and her son lived on this farmland, which was located just 100 yards from the Northumberland border.
After much deliberation, it was finally decided that the land should go to England. A letter came through the letter informing the McFarlanes of the changes and asking for consent.
‘We must accept,’ said Mrs. McFarlane finally. ‘Becoming part of England may be a wrench, but I canna stand any more o’ these terrible Scottish winters!’
