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Friday, November 13, 2009

Three Little Indians

Once upon a time in an Indian village...A little Indian asked his Chief dad; “Am I cursed or something pop?”

Chief wondered, “Why d’you ask son?”

The Little Indian responds, “I hate the way you name us Indian kids”.

The Chief says, “But our people have always been in tuned with nature and to record natural see, when your big sister was born, the afternoon breeze was blowing right into our warm I named her Gentle Breeze...when your big brother was born, I saw an eagle flying majestically up in the sky....

Little Indian interrupted in irritation and said, “Yeah yeah yeah…So you named him Soaring Eagle.

The Chief scratched his head in confusion and asked the little Indian, “So what are you whining about F**king Dog?


So the little Indian decided to have his name changed.

Several years after, the little Indian formerly known as F**king Dog is now known as Brown Elk walked into the saloon. He was now a giant of a man with a six-shooter tucked into his belt, so no one dared ask why he was carrying a pail of manure in one hand and a small cat in the other.

"I'll have a whiskey," he told the bartender, and after downing the shot, Brown Elk ordered another…then another.

Finally, after his fourth drink, the Indian pulled out his revolver, fired several shots into the bucket, released the cat, and then ran after it. When he caught it, he returned to the bar.

"E…excuse me," said the alarmed bartender, serving him a drink on the house, "but would you mind telling me what that was all about?"

"My father, the Chief told me to try and be more like a white man," he answered.

"So, I came here to have a few drinks, shoot the sh!t and chase a little pussy."