C, eh. N, eh. D, eh (and other xenophobic humour)


You might be Canadian if:

You’ve ever had your tongue frozen to something.

The trunk of your car doubles as a freezer.

You have at least 10 recipes for Moose meat.

Your snowblower has more mileage on it than your car.

You substitute beer for water when cooking.

You know at least six guys named Gordon.

You don’t have group sex because there would be too many thank-you notes to write afterwards.


I had my tongue frozen to WWII weaponry (some gun thing, from a ship, I guess, in the local park). I was a new girl in town in Idaho, six years old, and some sadistic young bully convinced me putting my tongue on it in the dead of winter was something awesome.




ahh, yiss! I get it, “The Great White North”


^^^ that ain’t snow, it’s “snow”



I’m expanding this topic, since we have a Canadians shortage, to include all foreigners.

A customer asks, “In what aisle will I find the Ukrainian sausage?”

The clerk asks, “Are you Ukrainian?”

The guy says, “Yes I am. But if I had asked for Italian sausage, would you ask me if I was Italian? Or if I had asked for German Bratwurst, would you ask me if I was German? Or if I asked for a kosher hot dog would you ask me if I was Jewish? Or if I had asked for a Taco, would you ask if I was Mexican? Or if I asked for some Irish whiskey, would you ask if I was Irish?”

The clerk says, “No, I probably wouldn’t.”

The guy says, “So why did you ask me if I’m Ukrainian?”

The clerk says, “You’re in Home Depot.”


A 2-seater Cessna crashed into a cemetary in Kiev and burst into flames.

Emergency crews have discovered over a hundred bodies and are continuing to assess the death toll.