The European Union commissioners have announced that agreement has been reached to adopt English as the preferred language for European communications, rather than German, which was the other possibility. As part of the negotiations, Her Majesty’s Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a five-year phased plan for what will be known as EuroEnglish (Euro for short).

In the first year, “s” will be used instead of the soft “c”. Sertainly, sivil servants will resieve this news with joy. Also, the hard “c” will be replaced with “k”. Not only will this klear up konfusion, but typewriters kan have one less letter.

There will be growing publik emthusiasm in the sekond year, when the troublesome “ph” will be replaced by “f”. This will make words like “fotograf” 20 per sent shorter.

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

Governments will enkorage the removal of double letters, which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling. Also, al wil agre that the horible mes of silent “e”s in the languag is disgrasful, and they would go.

By the fourth year, peopl wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing “th” by z” and “w” by v

During ze fifz year, ze unesesary “o” kan be dropd from vords kontaining “ou”, and similar changes vud of kors be aplid to ozer kombinations of leters.

After zis fifz yer, ve vil hav a reli sensibl riten styl. Zer vil be no mor trubls or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi tu understand ech ozer.

Ze drem vil finali kum tru!

A Frenchman and an Italian were seated next to an Englishman on an overseas flight. After a few cocktails, the men began discussing their home lives.

“Last night I made love to my wife four times,” the Frenchman bragged, “and this morning she made me delicious crepes and she told me how much she adored me.”

“Ah, last night I made love to my wife six times,” the Italian responded, “and this morning she made me a wonderful omelet and told me she could never love another man.”

When the Englishman remained silent, the Frenchman smugly asked, “And how many times did you make love to your wife last night?”

“Once,” he replied.

“Only once?” the Italian arrogantly snorted. “And what did she say to you this morning?”

“Don’t stop.”

An American tourist in London decides to skip his tour group and explore the city on his own. He wanders around, seeing the sights, occasionally stopping at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture, chat with the locals, and have a pint of bitter.

After a while, he finds himself in a very nice neighborhood with big, stately residences. No pubs, no stores, no restaurants, and worst of all no public restrooms.

However, he really has to go, after all those Guinness’s. He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings and decides to use the wall to solve his problem.

As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London bobby, who says, “Sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know.”

“I’m very sorry, officer,” replies the American, “but I really have to go, and I just can’t find a public restroom.”

“Ah, yes,” said the bobby, “just follow me”. He leads the American to a back delivery alley to a gate, which he opens.

“In there,” points the bobby, “whiz away sir, anywhere you like.”

The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains, sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom.

Since he has the policeman’s blessing, he relieves himself and feels much more comfortable. As he goes back through the gate, he says to the bobby “That was really decent of you. Is that what you call English hospitality?”

“No sir…”, replied the bobby, “that is what we call the French Embassy.”