For as long as men have worn knee-high socks with shorts and t-shirts and called them their “nice clothes,” Polish people have been the unfortunate butt of many, many jokes. They started long ago, these yarns, back before my father learned the correct placement of a pink flamingo in his front yard, and before his father learned the same thing in Warsaw years ago, between spoonfuls of pickled onions and sauerkraut pierogi.
Yes, we know how many of us it takes to screw in a light bulb: Just a few more than the number of old Polish grandmas it takes to shove a piece of garlic-stuffed kielbasa up your ass. But whatever. ...
We are proud of our heritage, deeply satisfied with our love for polka and our reckless disregard for consonants. And we know God is on our side. So we’ll deal with your jokes with a polite smile for now, knowing that one day, He’ll smites you with some Golabki.
But there are some limits to what we’ll allow, and some black sheep that even we won’t claim. So I wanted to clear one thing up on behalf of my people. The guy in England who was caught humping a vacuum cleaner
is not ours. He said he was Polish, and claimed that he wasn’t doing anything untoward with the Henry Hoover, but was actually just vacuuming his underwear, something he claimed was “a common practice in Poland”.
First of all, no, it’s not. Nor is the practice of sticking your wang in a household appliance. So please don’t hold him against us. Anyway, I heard through the sauerkraut vine that he’s actually 75 percent Hungarian, which makes him only 50 percent Polish. That means he’s 33 percent more Hungarian than Polish. Or something like that. Us Poles were never good at math, and I spilled vodka in my calculator. – Vince Grzegorek