England (pronounced ing-ger-lund) is widely regarded by people with a lesser intelligence as The United States’s little bitch puppet. It is the largest exporter of haters of Scotland and pakistan (due to brown friday). After brown friday when pakies raided airbases, stole choppers, and airlifted all of Englands call centers off to India, and as of 2006 the british public have had to learn pakistani if they want tech support with there internets, it didnt take long for the banks to follow suit and now Pakistani is Englands second language with gook following a close third and polish creeping in at fourth. british telecom thought it would be a wise idea to change there name to Bombay telecom. England was created in 1066 by the Satan himself, just after creating Marmite. England is (without question) the greatest country on earth as long as you aren’t fleeing opression or ethnic cleansing in your homeland or happen to be french, some would say its best to have no sense of smell as most corner shops are run by pakies that dont seem to be familiar with normal household products such as Cillit Bang!
England is the only thing that has kept the hatred of the French alive, until the USA picked up the torch in 2003 now in 2007 Canada, Australia, Asia and most of Europe have joined there crusade to mock the french. Hating the French, or “Frog Bashing”, has been an English national pastime since the rout and slaughter of the French nobility at The Battle of Crecy in 1346 and Battle of Agincourt in 1415. England is also commonly believed to be a ficticious fantasy island inhabited by fraggles and gummi bears a few miles off the coast of Newfieland, Canada (aka Hoserland) by some americans that dont own passports. Contrary to popular belief, England was NOT struck by a gigantic Iceberg the white debris had in fact blown down from Scotlands dandruff problem. It remains the most populated floating object in the universe.
The greatest practical joke ever played on the French by the British occurred in 1940. The French fleet was laying at anchor in Mers-el-Kebir, French North Africa (now Algeria) when elements of the Royal Navy Mediterranian Fleet blasted the crap out of them. Oh how DeGaulle and Churchill laughed about that in later years.
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.
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 Guinnessâ€™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, â€œSir, you simply cannot do that here, you know.â€
â€œIâ€™m very sorry, officer,â€ replies the American, â€œbut I really have to go, and I just canâ€™t find a public restroom.â€
â€œAh, yes,â€ said the bobby, â€œjust follow meâ€. He leads the American to a back delivery alley to a gate, which he opens.
â€œIn there,â€ points the bobby, â€œwhiz away sir, anywhere you like.â€
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 policemanâ€™s blessing, he relieves himself and feels much more comfortable. As he goes back through the gate, he says to the bobby â€œThat was really decent of you. Is that what you call English hospitality?â€
â€œNo sirâ€¦â€, replied the bobby, â€œthat is what we call the French Embassy.â€