"What's this?" he asks. "The Matador Special, Senor," the waiter replies. "What meat is it?" the man asks. "Cojones," the waiter explains, "They are the testicles of the bull who lost at the arena this afternoon."
At first the man is disgusted. But he is the adventurous sort, so he decides to give it a try. To his surprise, he finds the meat delicious. In fact, it is so good that the next day he goes to the same restaurant again, and once again orders the specialty of the day. Again he is brought two very big balls on a huge plate, and this time it tastes even more scrumptious.
The third day he does the same, and the fourth. But on the fifth day he goes to the restaurant and orders the specialty of the day, but this time they bring him two much smaller round meaty objects.
"What's this?" he asks the waiter. "The Matador Special, senor," the waiter replies. "No, no," the man objects, "I had the Matador Special the last few days, and it was much bigger than this."
"Senor," the waiter explains, "the bull does not always lose."
A trio of explorers were hiking through the Congo and found a small village that was very isolated and not on any map. The villagers turned out to speak English very well, and informed the adventurers very politely that theirs was a village of cannibals and they were to be cooked and eaten, and their hides tanned and turned into canoes for the villagers, but they would allow them to take their own life however they saw fit.
The first man asks for a sharp knife, slices his wrists open, and mutters "Lay me down and bleed a while, and ne'er up again."
The second man asks for his revolver, says "For God and Country!" and shoots himself in the head.
The last man asks for a fork, and stabs himself repeatedly screaming "Fuck your canoe!"
