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UK Government Statement to US Senate
Home Office (London, UK) to the People of America

To the citizens of the United States of America, In the light of your failure to elect a suitable President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today. Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories. Except Utah, which she does not fancy. Your new prime minister (The Right Honourable Tony Blair, MP for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a minister for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up "aluminium". Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'favour' and 'neighbour', skipping the letter 'U' is nothing more than laziness on your part. Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters.

You will end your love affair with the letter 'Z'(pronounced 'zed' not 'zee') and the suffix "ize" will be replaced by the suffix "ise".
You will learn that the suffix 'burgh is pronounced 'burra' e.g. Edinburgh. You are welcome to respell Pittsburgh as 'Pittsberg' if you can't cope with correct pronunciation. Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up "vocabulary". Using the same twenty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "like" and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. Look up "interspersed".

There will be no more 'bleeps' in the Jerry Springer show. If you're not old enough to cope with bad language then you shouldn't have chat shows. When you learn to develop your vocabulary then you won't have to use bad language as often.

There is no such thing as "US English". We will let Microsoft know on your behalf.
The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of "-ize".

You should learn to distinguish the British and Australian accents. It really isn't that hard. British accents are not limited to Cockney, upper-class twit or Mancunian (Daphne in Frasier).

You will also have to learn how to understand regional accents - Scottish dramas such as "Taggart" will no longer be broadcast with subtitles. While we're talking about regions, you must learn that there is no such place as Devonshire in England. The name of the county is "Devon". If you persist in calling it Devonshire, all American States will become "shires" e.g. Texasshire, Floridashire, Louisianashire.

Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as the good guys. Hollywood will be required to cast British actors to play British characters. British sit-coms such as "Men Behaving Badly" or "Red Dwarf" will not be re-cast and watered down for a wishy-washy American audience who can't cope with the humour of occasional political incorrectness.

You should relearn your original national anthem, "God Save The Queen", but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused and give up half way through.

You should stop playing American "football". There is only one kind of football. What you refer to as American "football" is not a very good game. The 2.15% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays "American" football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football. Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game.
Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which is similar to American"football", but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like nancies). We are hoping to get together at least a US rugby sevens side by 2005.
You should stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the 'World Series' for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.15% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. Instead of baseball, you will be allowed to play a girls' game called "rounders" which is baseball without fancy team strip, oversized gloves, collector cards or hotdogs.

You should declare war on Quebec and France, using nuclear weapons if they give you any merde.
The 97.85% of you who were not aware that there is a world outside your borders should count yourselves lucky.

The Russians have never been the bad guys.

"Merde" is French for "Shit".

You will no longer be allowed to own or carry guns. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous in public than a vegetable peeler. Because we don't believe you are sensible enough to handle potentially dangerous items, you will require a permit if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

July 4th is no longer a public holiday. November 2nd will be a new national holiday, but only in Britain. It will be called "Indecisive Day".

All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean.

All road intersections will be replaced with roundabouts.

You will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips. Fries aren't even French, they are Belgian though 97.85% of you (including the guy who discovered fries while in Europe) are not aware of a country called Belgium. Those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called "crisps". Real chips are thick cut and fried in animal fat.
The traditional accompaniment to chips is beer, which should be served warm and flat.

The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all, it is lager. From November 1st only proper British Bitter will be referred to as "beer", and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as "Lager".
The substances formerly known as "American Beer" will henceforth be referred to as "Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine", with the exception of the product of the American Budweiser company whose product will be referred to as "Weak Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine". This will allow true Budweiser (as manufactured for the last 1000 years in Cesk? Budejovic? a.k.a. Budweis, Czech Republic) to be sold without risk of confusion.

From December 1st the UK will harmonise petrol (or "Gasoline" as you will be permitted to keep calling it until April 1st 2005) prices with the former USA.
The UK will harmonise its prices to those of the former USA and the Former USA will, in return, adopt UK petrol prices (roughly $7.80/US gallon - get used to it).

You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

Please tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us crazy.

Tax collectors from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all revenues due (backdated to 1776).

Thank you for your cooperation

brilliant

>Cyrus asks: "Daddy, where did I come from?"
>Dad says: "Ah, my son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway!"
>and ponders how to put it in words the lad can understand.
>"Well," he finally says, "you see, your Mom and I first got together in a
>chat room on MSN. Then I set up a date via e-mail with your mom and we met
>at a cyber-cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, where your mother agreed
>to a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we
>discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, and then it was too
>late to hit the delete button."
>"Then what?" the boy asked.
>"Nine months later a blessed little Pop-Up appeared and said: 'You've Got
>Male!'"

This bloke walks into the poshest restaurant in town... "Where's the f*ckin manager you c*ck-sucking asswipe?" he inquires to one of the waiters. The waiter is naturally taken aback and replies, "Excuse me sir but could you please refrain from using that sort of language in here, I will get the manager as soon as I can."
"I want to see the c*nt, and I want to see the c*nt now!" replies the man, staring wildly at the waiter. The manager comes over and the bloke asks, "Are you the f*ckin w*nkstain manager of this joint?"
"Yes sir, I am" replies the manager, "but I would prefer it if you could refrain from speaking such profanities in this, a private and exclusive restaurant."
"F*ck Off!!" replies the bloke, "Where's the f*ckin piano?"

"Pardon?" says the manager.
"F*ckin deaf as well are you? You little piece of sniveling sh*t! Show us your p*ssing piano or I'll f*ckin tw*t you."
"Ahhhh!" replies the manager, "You've come about the pianist job?" and shows the bloke to the piano. "Can you play any blues?"
"Of course I can..." and the bloke proceeds to play the most melancholy blues that the manager has ever heard.

"That's superb. What's it called?"
"I want to f*ck your wife on the sofa but the springs keep sticking in my knob," replies the bloke.
The manager is a bit disturbed and asks if the bloke knows any jazz. The bloke proceeds, playing the most rhythmically complex jazz solo the manager has ever heard.
"Magnificent!" cries the manager, "What's it called?"
"I tried to w*nk over the washin' machine but me balls got caught in the soap drawer."
The manager is a tad embarrassed and asks if he knows any romantic ballads, the bloke then plays the most heartbreaking melody that brings a tear to his eye and a lump in his throat.

"Thats beautiful, what's that called ?" asks the manager.
"I like to f*ck you under the stars with the moonlight shining off your hairy ringpiece," replies the bloke.
The manager is highly upset by the bloke's language but his music is so good he offers him the job, on condition that he doesn't introduce any of his songs or talk to any of the customers.
This arrangement works well for a couple of months until one night the bloke is playing his piano and sitting opposite him is the most gorgeous blonde he has ever laid his eyes on. She's wearing an almost see-through dress, her breasts are falling out the top of her tight lace bra, and the skimpy little 'G' string she's wearing is showing
clearly through the tight material over her gorgeous arse. She is sitting there with her legs slightly open sucking suggestively on asparagus shoots and the butter is dripping down her chin.

It's too much for the pianist and he stops playing and runs off to the bogs to 'wrestle with his bald-headed chap'.
He's pulling away furiously when he hears the managers voice: "Where's that pianist gone?"
He just has time to shoot his load and in a fluster he runs back to the piano, sits down and starts playing some more tunes.

The blonde gets up off her bar-stool and walks seductively over to the piano, leans over in front of him and whispers in his ear....


"Do you know your knob and bollocks are hanging out your trousers and dripping cum onto your shoes?"....



The bloke replies, "Know it? I only f*ckin wrote it!!"

its a god damn funny joke!

Hasn't it beenposted before?

A middle-aged woman goes to a service counter and tells the clerk she
wants a refund for the toaster she bought because it won't work.
The clerk tells her that he can't give her a refund because she bought
it on "special."
Suddenly, the woman throws her arms up in the air and starts screaming,
"PINCH MY NIPPLES, PINCH MY NIPPLES, PINCH MY NIPPLES!!!!!!"
The befuddled clerk ran away to get the store manager in front a growing
crowd of customers. The manager goes to the woman and asks, "Ma'am what's
wrong?"

She explained the problem with the toaster, and he tells her that he
can't give her a refund because she bought it on "special."
Once again, the woman throws her arms up in the air and starts screaming
"PINCH MY NIPPLES, PINCH MY NIPPLES, PINCH MY NIPPLES!!!!"
And in doing so draws an even bigger crowd!

In shock, the store manager pleads "Ma'am, why are you saying that?
In a huff, the woman says,

"BECAUSE, I LIKE TO HAVE MY NIPPLES PINCHED
WHEN I AM BEING SCREWED!!

Customer: Worcester sauce crisps please

Shopkeeper: Sorry can't, it's off the shelves, cancer scare.

Customer: Oh right, Chinese Chicken Wings?

Shopkeeper: Ah that's the same , Cancer scare

Customer: Hamburger Relish?

Shopkeeper: Cancer scare

Customer: Sausage and Mash?

Shopkeeper: Cancer scare

Customer: Cottage Pie?

Shopkeeper: Yes, ...no wait, Cancer scare.

Customer: So they're all off the shelves because of a Cancer scare?

Shopkeeper: Yes

Customer: (sigh) Just give me a packet of fags then.

Shopkeeper: Certainly. ?4.50 please.

Customer: Thanks !!

The train from Paris to Bordeaux was quite crowded so a U.S. Marine
walked its entire length looking for a seat, but the only one left was
taken by a well-dressed middle-aged French woman's poodle.

The war-weary marine asked, "Ma'am, may I have that seat?"
The French woman just sniffed and said to no one in particular,
"Americans are so rude. My little Fifi is using that seat."
The Marine walked the entire length of train again, but the only seat
left was under that dog.

"Please, ma'am. May I sit down? I'm very tired."
She snorted, "Not only are you Americans rude, you are also arrogant!"

This time the Marine didn't say a word, he just picked up the little
dog, tossed it out the train window and sat down.

The woman shrieked, "Someone must defend my honor! Put this American
in his place!"

An English gentleman sitting nearby spoke up.
"Sir, you Americans often seem to have a penchant for doing the
wrong thing.
You hold the fork in the wrong hand. You drive your autos on the
wrong side of the road.
And now, sir.........you've thrown the wrong bitch out the window"!