Encyclopedia of Humor

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 enthusiasm 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 enkourage 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 b no mor trubls or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi tu understand ech ozer. Ze drem vil finali kum tru.

While cruising at 40,000 feet, the airplane shuddered and Mr. Benson looked out the window.”Good lord!” he screamed, “one of the engines just blew up!”

Other passengers left their seats and came running over; suddenly the aircraft was rocked by a second blast as yet another engine exploded on the other side.

The passengers were in a panic now, and even the stewardesses couldn’t maintain order. Just then, standing tall and smiling confidently, the pilot strode from the cockpit and assured everyone that there was nothing to worry about. His words and his demeanour seemed made most of the passengers feel better, and they sat down as the pilot calmly walked to the door of the aircraft. There, he grabbed several packages from under the seats and began handing them to the flight attendants.

Each crew member attached the package to their backs.

“Say,” spoke up an alert passenger, “aren’t those parachutes?”

The pilot said they were.

The passenger went on, “But I thought you said there was nothing to worry about?”

“There isn’t,” replied the pilot as a third engine exploded. “We’re going to get help.”

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson go on a camping trip, set up their tent, and fall asleep. Some hours later, Holmes wakes his faithful friend.”Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see.”

Watson replies, “I see millions of stars.”

“What does that tell you?”

Watson ponders for a minute. “Astronomically speaking, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, it tells me that Saturn is in Leo. Timewise, it appears to be approximately a quarter past three. Theologically, it’s evident the Lord is all-powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it seems we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What does it tell you?”

Holmes is silent for a moment, then speaks. “Watson, you idiot, someone has stolen our tent.”

One weekend, a man from the city decided to go duck hunting. He headed for the country and stopped at a field that looked as though it could attract ducks. While walking through a field, several ducks flew overhead. He aimed, fired, and shot one of the ducks out of the sky. However, the duck landed on the other side of a large irrigation ditch with no signs of any nearby crossing.He briefly thought about leaving the duck but realized that the weather was becoming worse. Not wanting to return home empty handed, he decided to try and find some way across. About a quarter mile further ahead he found a crossing and, as he walked back along the other side, came across a farmer who was carrying his duck.

“Excuse me?” he said, “I believe that’s my duck you’re carrying.”

“Oh I don’t think so,” replied the farmer, “It landed on my property. This here’s my duck.”

They argued back and forth for a few minutes and then the farmer suggested a solution.

“Let’s settle this the country way. We’ll take turns kicking each other in the balls and the first man to give in, gives up the duck.”

The hunter thought about it for a minute. At first he questioned the sanity of engaging in a “ball-kicking” contest but felt he was tough enough and accepted the challenge.

“Alright then,” Said the farmer, “I’ll go first.”

The hunter took a deep breath and prepared himself for the blow. The farmer reared back and kicked the hunter in the balls as hard as he could. The hunter moaned and dropped to the ground, rolling around in pain as he grasped his groin. After several minutes the hunter recovered to his feet, took several deep breaths and said, “Okay, now it’s my turn.”

The farmer looks at the hunter, shakes his head and says, “Oh, that’s okay, you can have you’re duck.”

Two men were sitting at a bar recounting their dreams.

“I dreamed I was on vacation,” one man said fondly. “It was just me and my fishing rod and this big beautiful lake. What a dream.”

“I had a great dream too,” said the other. “I dreamed I was in bed with two beautiful women and having the time of my life.”

His companion looked over and exhorted, “You dreamed you had two women, and you didn’t call me?”

An anthropologist decides to investigate the natives of a far-flung tropical island. He flew there, found a guide with a canoe to take him up the river to the remote site where he would make his collections. About noon on the second day of travel up the river they began to hear drums. Being a city boy by nature, the anthropologist was disturbed by this. He asked the guide, “What are those drums?”

The guide turned to him and said “Drums OK, but VERY BAD when they stop.”

Then, after some hours, the drums suddenly stopped! This hit the anthropologist like a ton of bricks, and he yelled at the guide: “The Drums have stopped, what happens now?”

The guide crouched down, covered his head with his hands and said, “Bass Solo”.
“Oh, I did,” said the other, “but when I called, your wife said you’d gone fishing.”