E Tribe Puns

A man washes up on a remote island after a shipwreck. The native tribe is kind and they hail him as an honored guest, present him with a wooden throne and throw a banquet in his honor. After the banquet, he takes his throne back to the grass hut the tribe built for him and goes to sleep. That night, there's a windstorm and his grass hut and the throne are blown away. The moral of this story is "People who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones".

Certain related tribes in sub-Saharan Africa often raided each other's villages when most folk were herding animals. Sometimes they would take vegetables and water, but more often taking little things, to gently mock each other. It was all in good fun. After a successful raid, the "winning" tribe would celebrate by dancing under the stars, or in one of their large, grass-covered spirit houses.

One day, the Imaqi took their Satari shaman's sceptre. The following day, the Satari not only stole the sceptre back, but also the Imaqi chief's regalia.

It went back and forth, until, on a rare and daring escapade, three Imaqi warriors stole the Santari chief's throne. They put it on display, above their chief's throne in the spirit house.

The Imaqi thought that this was hilarious, and as it was beginning to rain, made merry and danced in the spirit house. Suddenly, the heavy throne on display fell down and killed a number of the dancing revelers.

The moral should be obvious: those who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones.

Once upon a time there were numerous tribes in a jungle. Each tribe struggled to survive, and over time and as skills evolved, tribes began to trade goods with each other. One tribe learned the skills of architecture, and traded designs for safe grass houses with neighboring tribes for other necessities, such as food. Over time, the tribe grew quite rich, and without the need for goods the chief of the tribe demanded payment in the form of a tribute, an ornate throne. Over time the number of thrones the chief owned grew more and more numerous, so he had a great multi-story grass house built to store all of his thrones. One day, the weight of the thrones became so much the house collapsed, killing the chief. The moral of the story is… wait for it…

He who lives in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.

They are surrounded by dozens of the fierce blood thirsty warriors armed with clubs and spears. The leader of the warriors approaches the two friends and informs them they are trespassing on sacred land and unless they can prove they are descendants of the Gods they will be killed and eaten.

Bob and Frank realize they have little choice but agree they will attempt any test to try to save their lives.

The chief warrior brings them a bowl full of angry fire ants and drops one small seed into the bowl. He informs them they must put their lips in the bowl and suck as hard as they can. If they manage to suck up only the seed without sucking up an ant then the tribe would know they must be sent from the Gods.

Bob looks wearily at Frank but knowing they have no other options he puts his lips in the bowl and sucks hard. He immediately gets a mouth full of ants and screams in pain as they bite away at the inside of his mouth. Frank now even more nervous takes his turn and to his dismay also receives a nasty mouthful of the viscous buggers.

The warriors leap to their feet and surround the friends, “Now you must die” declares the chieftain. Just as the first spear is raised to Franks throat he screams “Tria-Gan!” The warriors stop dead in their tracks. “What did you say” asked the chief. “Tria-Gan” yelled frank again. Immediately the chief and his warriors turned and fled into the forest.

“Holy shit” said Bob “What did you just say and how did you know it would work?”

“Well” said Frank, “my Mother always told me if at first you don’t suck seed try Tria-Gan.”

Dad: Did I ever tell you I'm part of an Indian tribe Me: Which one? Dad: They were called the wherethefuckarewe

Local tribes in fear of a zombee apocalypse

I heard the specific tribe they come from is called the Hon hon hons

They were a barberic tribe.

Dad: "You know, we're actually descendants of one of the oldest native tribes in this part of the country, right?"

Me: "Really?"

Dad: "Yeah, The Fagawee tribe. I remember when I was little, your grandpa took me on a spiritual pilgrimage through the forest. He drank a lot and smoked some native herbs. The herbs didn't seem to be working, though, because as it got darker, we seemed to be walking in circles. It was cold in the woods and we seemed to keep coming across the same old log. Finally, in the middle of my dad's spiritual trance, he fell to his knees in a clearing, raised his hands high, and proclaimed "We're the Fawagwee!"

Translation: ("Where the fuck are we?")

My wife asked me to make our child a PB&J sammich for his lunch.
I told her that my native american relative tought me how to make the perfect PB&J.
She asked which one? And I said:
Uncle Rusty Bull.
From the Smuckers tribe.

There's a tribe in Africa that eats little pieces of metal as part of their diet.

It's called there staple diet....

So we're discussing some of the Indian tribes in my Early American History class today, and he ends class by saying:

"How do you get an Indian wet?

You Tippecanoe."

What indian tribe kept getting lost?

The Whedeheckawy.

In class we were talking about different ceremonies about "becoming a man". The story goes that a tribe in Peru sends nine 15 year olds into the woods for three days and each has to collect a different item. After the time is up the tribe beats drums to call the boys back. When they return the shaman lays them in a circle around the fire heads pointing inwards and begins to heat up a spear. After The metal is red hot they begin to cut out and remove the boys kidneys. Of course my class asked "why?!" Mind you we are taking this story as notes. He looks at as dead in the face and says "The culture believes they will receive their adultneys" Tl;Dr cuts out children's kidneys because they think they will grow adultneys.

I play poker with a bunch of 50+ year old men every Saturday, and earlier this evening I was telling them about a documentary I watched called Head Hunters of world war 2, which is about some b17 pilots who crashed in the pacific, and were protected by a tribe of headhunters who started hunting Japanese soldiers to protect the American pilots.

After I finish telling them, one guy pipes up and says "did they find a job?"

The collective groans became raucous laughter.