Here’s a Newfie joke; it was originally another joke, but I tweaked it because I was in Frankenmuth today watching folks snow sculpt and ice-fish. As for Newfinland, it’s basically the Appalachia of Canada. The folks there aren’t considered to be particularly bright. Anyway.

So this Newfie decides it’s time he took up ice fishing. It’s winter and all his other Newfie friends ice fish. So he gets a setup with an ice drill, a few short fishing poles, a plastic pail to sit on, and a little tent, and he goes to set it up on the ice early one morning.

He finds a nice, empty spot, but as soon as he’s set up the pail and tent but he hears a voice from somewhere around him, “Go home, there are no fish under the ice.” He looks all around but he can’t see anyone. Who said that? Was that comment for him? He goes back to start drilling, and he hears the voice again. “Go home; there are no fish under the ice.” Well, he still can’t see anyone, but figures that maybe he should go to a different spot. He picks up his stuff, moves about 50 feet away and starts to set up again, when he hears the voice again, just as loud. “Go home, there are no fish under the ice.” “Who are you?” yells the Newfie to no-one in particular, “God?” “I’m the rink manager. There are no fish under the ice.”