Monday Humour

EURO ENGLISH

The European Commission has just announced an agreement whereby English will be the official language of the European Union rather than German, which was the other possibility. 

As part of the negotiations, the British Government conceded that English spelling had some room for  improvement and has accepted a 5- year phase-in plan that would become  known as "Euro-English". 

In the first year, "s" will  replace the soft "c".. Sertainly, this will make the sivil servants jump  with joy. The hard "c" will be dropped in favour of "k". This should  klear up konfusion, and keyboards kan have one less letter.

There  will be growing publik enthusiasm in  the sekond year when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced with "f"..  This will make words like fotograf 20%  shorter. 

In the  3rd year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted  to reach the stage where more komplikated changes are  possible. 

Governments will enkourage the removal of double  letters which have always ben a deterent to akurate  speling. 

Also, al wil agre that the horibl mes of the  silent "e" in the languag is disgrasful and it should go  away. 

By the 4th yer people wil be reseptiv to steps such  as replasing "th" with "z" and "w" with "v".. During ze fifz yer, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou"  and after ziz fifz yer, ve vil hav a reil  sensi bl riten  styl. 
Zer vil be no mor trubl or difikultis and evrivun vil  find it ezi TU understand ech oza. Ze drem of a united urop vil finali  kum tru. 

Und  efter ze fifz yer, ve vil al be speking German like zey vunted in ze  forst plas.

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YOUR PARROT, IT IS DEAD

At dawn the telephone rings,

"Hello, Señor Roy? This is Ernesto, the caretaker at your country house."

"Ah yes, Ernesto. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?"

"Um, I am just calling to advise you, Señor Roy, that your parrot, he is dead".

"My parrot? Dead? The one that won the International competition?"

"Si, Señor, that's the one."

"Damn! That's a pity! I spent a small fortune on that bird. What did he die from?"

"From eating the rotten meat, Señor Roy."

"Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?"

"Nobody, Señor. He ate the meat of the dead horse."

"Dead horse? What dead horse?"

"The thoroughbred, Señor Roy."

"My prize thoroughbred is dead?"

"Yes, Señor Roy, he died from all that work pulling the water cart."

"Are you insane? What water cart?"

"The one we used to put out the fire, Señor."

"Good Lord! What fire are you talking about, man?"

"The one at your house, Señor! A candle fell and the curtains caught on fire."

"What the hell? Are you saying that my mansion is destroyed because of a candle?!"

"Yes, Señor Roy."

"But there's electricity at the house! What was the candle for?"

"For the funeral, Señor Roy."

"WHAT BLOODY FUNERAL??!!"

"Your wife's, Señor Roy. She showed up very late one night and I thought she was a thief, so I hit her with your new Ping G20  204g titanium head golf club with the TFC 149D graphite shaft."

SILENCE...........

LONG SILENCE.........

VERY LONG SILENCE…………

"Ernesto, if you broke that driver, you're in deep shit."

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A WOMAN SCORNED

A woman arrived at the Gates of Heaven. While she was waiting for Saint Peter to greet her, she peeked through the gates. She saw a beautiful banquet table. Sitting all around were her parents and all the other people she had loved and who had died before her.
They saw her and began shouting greetings to her: "Hello! How are you?! We've been waiting for you! Good to see you."

When Saint Peter came by, the woman said to him, "This is such a wonderful place! How do I get in?"
"You have to spell a word," Saint Peter told her.

 "Which word?" the woman asked.

"Love."

The woman correctly spelled "Love" and Saint Peter welcomed her into Heaven.

About a year later, Saint Peter approached the woman and asked her to watch the Gates of Heaven for him that day. While the woman was guarding the Gates of Heaven, her husband arrived.

"Well, I'm really surprised to see you!" the woman exclaimed. "How have you been?"

"Oh, I'd been doing pretty well since you died, actually," her husband replied. "I married the beautiful, young nurse who took care of you while you were ill. And then I won the multi-state lottery. I sold the little house you and I lived in and bought a huge mansion. And my wife and I have been traveling all around the world. In fact, we were on vacation in Cancun when I went water-skiing today. I fell and hit my head, so here I am. What a bummer! Anyway, how do I get in?"

"You have to spell a word," the woman told him.

"Which word?" her husband asked.

"Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis”, she replied.

Moral of the story: Never make a woman angry . . . or there will be Hell to pay!

NB: The longest word currently listed in the Oxford dictionary is the lung-disease pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicoolcanoconiosis  (45 letters)