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Walking down Whitehall one day, a Member of Parliament is hit by a truck and tragically dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the gates.
“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, there seems to be a problem. We seldom have high ranking officials around here, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the MP.
“Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”
“Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven.”
“I'm sorry, but we have our rules.” And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the lift, which goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and the MP finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of the people.
They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne. Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly chap who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that, before he realises, it is time to go.
Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the lift rises. It goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven, where St. Peter is waiting for him.
“Now it's time to visit heaven.”
So, 24 hours pass with the MP joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, very quickly, the 24 hours have gone by.
St. Peter returns. “Well, then, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”
The MP reflects for a minute, then answers: “I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.”
So St. Peter escorts him to the lift and he goes down, down, down to hell.
This time, when the doors of the lift open he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the rubbish and putting it into black bags as more rubbish falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. “I don't understand,” stammers the MP. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of rubbish and my friends look miserable. What happened?”
The devil looks at him, smiles and says: “Yesterday, we were campaigning: today, you voted.”
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 another strong contender. As part of the negotiations, the British 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 reseive 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 komplicated changes are possible. Goverments wil 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 forth year peopl wil be respetiv to steps such as replasing 'th' by 'z' and 'w' by 'v'.
During ze fifz yer, ve wil hav a reli sensibl riten styl. Zer vil be no mor trubls or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi to understand ech ozer. Ze drem vil finali kum tru.
A woman was walking along the beach when she stumbled upon a Genie's lamp. She picked it up and rubbed it, and lo-and-behold a Genie appeared. The amazed woman asked if she was going to receive the usual three wishes. The Genie said, "No ... due to work pressures I can only grant you one wish. So ... what'll it be?"
The woman didn't hesitate. She said, "I want peace in the Middle East. See this map? I want these countries to stop fighting with each other."
The Genie looked at the map and exclaimed, "Gadzooks, lady! These countries have been at war for thousands of years. I'm good, but not THAT good! I don't think it can be done. Make another wish."
The woman thought for a minute and said, "Well, I've never been able to find the right man. You know, one that's considerate and fun, likes to cook and helps with the housework. Someone who is sensitive and romantic; gets along with the in-laws, doesn't follow his football team wherever they happen to be playing, and is faithful. That's all I wish for ... a good mate."
The Genie let out a very long sigh and said, "OK, let me see that map again!"
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