The European Commission has just announced an agreement whereby English will be the official language of the European Union rather than German, which was the other possibility.
As part of the negotiations, the British Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a 5- year phase-in plan that would become known as "Euro-English".
In the first year, "s" will replace the soft "c".. Sertainly, this will make the sivil servants jump with joy. The hard "c" will be dropped in favour of "k". This should klear up konfusion, and keyboards kan have one less letter.
There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced with "f".. This will make words like fotograf 20% shorter.
In the 3rd 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 horibl mes of the silent "e" in the languag is disgrasful and it should go away.
By the 4th yer peopl wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing "th" with "z" and "w" with "v".
During ze fifz yer, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou" and after ziz fifz yer, ve vil hav a reil sensi bl riten styl.
Zer vil be no mor trubl or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi TU understand ech oza. Ze drem of a united urop vil finali kum tru.
Select to expand quote#RUConfessions28258
Koalas are ****ing horrible animals. They have one of the smallest brain to body ratios of any mammal, additionally - their brains are smooth. A brain is folded to increase the surface area for neurons. If you present a koala with leaves plucked from a branch, laid on a flat surface, the koala will not recognise it as food. They are too thick to adapt their feeding behaviour to cope with change. In a room full of potential food, they can literally starve to death. This is not the token of an animal that is winning at life.
Speaking of stupidity and food, one of the likely reasons for their primitive brains is the fact that additionally to being poisonous, eucalyptus leaves (the only thing they eat) have almost no nutritional value. They can't afford the extra energy to think, they sleep more than 80% of their ****ing lives. When they are awake all they do is eat, **** and occasionally scream like ****ing satan. Because eucalyptus leaves hold such little nutritional value, koalas have to ferment the leaves in their guts for days on end. Unlike their brains, they have the largest hind gut to body ratio of any mammal.
Many herbivorous mammals have adaptations to cope with harsh plant life taking its toll on their teeth, rodents for instance have teeth that never stop growing, some animals only have teeth on their lower jaw, grinding plant matter on bony plates in the tops of their mouths, others have enlarged molars that distribute the wear and break down plant matter more efficiently... Koalas are no exception, when their teeth erode down to nothing, they resolve the situation by starving to death, because they're ****ing terrible animals.
Being mammals, koalas raise their joeys on milk (admittedly, one of the lowest milk yields to body ratio... There's a trend here). When the young joey needs to transition from rich, nourishing substances like milk, to eucalyptus (a plant that seems to be making it abundantly clear that it doesn't want to be eaten), it finds it does not have the necessary gut flora to digest the leaves. To remedy this, the young joey begins nuzzling its mother's anus until she leaks a little diarrhoea (actually fecal pap, slightly less digested), which he then proceeds to slurp on. This partially digested plant matter gives him just what he needs to start developing his digestive system.
Of course, he may not even have needed to bother nuzzling his mother. She may have been suffering from incontinence. Why? Because koalas are riddled with chlamydia. In some areas the infection rate is 80% or higher.
This statistic isn't helped by the fact that one of the few other activities koalas will spend their precious energy on is rape. Despite being seasonal breeders, males seem to either not know or care, and will simply overpower a female regardless of whether she is ovulating. If she fights back, he may drag them both out of the tree, which brings us full circle back to the brain: Koalas have a higher than average quantity of cerebrospinal fluid in their brains. This is to protect their brains from injury... should they fall from a tree. An animal so thick it has its own little built in special ed helmet.
I ****ing hate them.
Submitted: June 20, 2019 9:31:07 AM SAST
Why are Catholic priests called "father"?
Cos 'daddy' would be a bit conspicuous.....
Select to expand quotejapie said..#RUConfessions28258
Koalas are ****ing horrible animals. They have one of the smallest brain to body ratios of any mammal, additionally - their brains are smooth. A brain is folded to increase the surface area for neurons. If you present a koala with leaves plucked from a branch, laid on a flat surface, the koala will not recognise it as food. They are too thick to adapt their feeding behaviour to cope with change. In a room full of potential food, they can literally starve to death. This is not the token of an animal that is winning at life.
Speaking of stupidity and food, one of the likely reasons for their primitive brains is the fact that additionally to being poisonous, eucalyptus leaves (the only thing they eat) have almost no nutritional value. They can't afford the extra energy to think, they sleep more than 80% of their ****ing lives. When they are awake all they do is eat, **** and occasionally scream like ****ing satan. Because eucalyptus leaves hold such little nutritional value, koalas have to ferment the leaves in their guts for days on end. Unlike their brains, they have the largest hind gut to body ratio of any mammal.
Many herbivorous mammals have adaptations to cope with harsh plant life taking its toll on their teeth, rodents for instance have teeth that never stop growing, some animals only have teeth on their lower jaw, grinding plant matter on bony plates in the tops of their mouths, others have enlarged molars that distribute the wear and break down plant matter more efficiently... Koalas are no exception, when their teeth erode down to nothing, they resolve the situation by starving to death, because they're ****ing terrible animals.
Being mammals, koalas raise their joeys on milk (admittedly, one of the lowest milk yields to body ratio... There's a trend here). When the young joey needs to transition from rich, nourishing substances like milk, to eucalyptus (a plant that seems to be making it abundantly clear that it doesn't want to be eaten), it finds it does not have the necessary gut flora to digest the leaves. To remedy this, the young joey begins nuzzling its mother's anus until she leaks a little diarrhoea (actually fecal pap, slightly less digested), which he then proceeds to slurp on. This partially digested plant matter gives him just what he needs to start developing his digestive system.
Of course, he may not even have needed to bother nuzzling his mother. She may have been suffering from incontinence. Why? Because koalas are riddled with chlamydia. In some areas the infection rate is 80% or higher.
This statistic isn't helped by the fact that one of the few other activities koalas will spend their precious energy on is rape. Despite being seasonal breeders, males seem to either not know or care, and will simply overpower a female regardless of whether she is ovulating. If she fights back, he may drag them both out of the tree, which brings us full circle back to the brain: Koalas have a higher than average quantity of cerebrospinal fluid in their brains. This is to protect their brains from injury... should they fall from a tree. An animal so thick it has its own little built in special ed helmet.
I ****ing hate them.
Submitted: June 20, 2019 9:31:07 AM SAST
Usually they only go after tourists, but if you're not careful you may hit the top of the drop list of the Thylarctos plummetus; the reactionary forces of the Setonix brachyurus revolutionary army... (australianmuseum.net.au/learn/animals/mammals/drop-bear/)
Select to expand quoteJack, a handsome man, walked into a sports bar around 21:58 pm. He sat down next to a very attractive blonde at the bar and stared up at the TV as the 10:00 news came on.
The news crew was covering a story of a man on a ledge of a large building preparing to jump.
The blonde looked at Jack and said, "Do you think he'll jump?"
Jack says, "You know what, I bet he will."
The blonde replied, "Well, I bet he won't."
Jack placed ?30 on the bar and said, "You're on!"
Just as the blonde placed her money on the bar, the guy did a swan dive off of the building, falling to his death. The blonde was very upset and handed her ?30 to Jack, saying, "Fair's fair... Here's your money."
Jack replied, "I can't take your money, I saw this earlier on the 5 o'clock news and knew he would jump."
The blonde replies, "I did too; but I didn't think he'd do it again."
Jack took the money.
A man is drowning out to sea.
A boat pulls up and asks if he's alright.
He says, "I have faith in god, so move on"
A helicopter hovers down and the crew asks if he's alright.
He says, "I have faith in god, so move on"
Eventually he drowns and goes to heaven and is met by god.
He says "I prayed and prayed - what happened?"
God says "I sent a boat and a helicopter"
I bought some shoes from a drug dealer. I don't know what he laced them with, but I've been tripping all day.
How does a pirate tell his wench he wants to have sex?
A: Drop yer sails and prepare t' be boarded!
An Arab student e-mails his dad
Dear Dad,
Berlin is wonderful, people are nice and I really like it here, but Dad, I am a bit ashamed to arrive at my college with my pure-gold Ferrari 599GTB when all my teachers and many fellow students travel by train.
Your son, Nasser.
The next day, Nasser gets a reply to his e-mail from his dad:
My dear loving son,
Twenty million US Dollar has just been transferred to your account. Please stop embarrassing us. Go and get yourself a train too.
Love, your Dad
Q: How far we are from energy from fusion reaction? A; 30 year, and always will be
A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded: Rome ? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, they have the worst customer service, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."
"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. "You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome .
"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot."
"And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope sometimes likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me."
"Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh, really!" said the haridresser. "What'd he say ?"
"Who ****ed up your hair?"
An Irish daughter had not been home for over 5 years.
Upon her return, her Father cursed her heavily. "Where have ye been all this time, child? Why did ye not write to us, not even a line? Why didn't ye call? Can ye not understand what ye put yer old Mother through?"
The girl, crying, replied, "Dad... I became a prostitute."
"Ye what!? Get out a here, ye shameless harlot! Sinner! You're a disgrace to this Catholic family."
"OK, Dad... as ye wish. I only came back to give mum this luxurious fur coat, title deed to a ten bedroom mansion, plus a 5 million savings certificate. For me little brother, this gold Rolex. And for ye Daddy, the sparkling new Mercedes limited edition convertible that's parked outside plus a membership to the country club ... (takes a breath) ... and an invitation for ye all to spend New Year's Eve on board my new yacht in the Riviera."
"What was it ye said ye had become?"says Dad.
Girl, crying again, "A prostitute, Daddy!."
"Oh! My Goodness! Ye scared me half to death, girl! I thought ye said a Protestant! Come here and give yer old Dad a hug"
Life in theAustralian Army Text of a letter from a kid from Eromanga to Mum and Dad.(For those of you not in the know, Eromanga is a small town, westof Quilpie in the far south west of Queensland) Dear Mum & Dad,
I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Armyis better than workin' on the station - tell them to get in bloody quick smartbefore the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first,because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuzall ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean yauniform. No bloody horses to get in, no calves to feed, no troughs toclean - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its not so bad, coz there'slotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!
At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks orgoanna stew like wot mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon and by thattime all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march'- geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the bullock paddock!!
This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keepgetting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as abloody dingo's backside and it don't move and it's not firing back at yalike the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cowsbefore the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortableand hit the target - it's a piece of pie!! You don't even load your owncartridges, they comes in little boxes, and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload!
Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real carefulcoz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jackand Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxereither and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only beenbeaten by this one bloke from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7and eight stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the otherblokes carried me off to the boozer.
I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick beforeword gets around how bloody good it is.
Your loving daughter,
Susan
A nun, badly needing to use the restroom, walked into a local Hooters bar. The place was hopping with music and loud conversation and every once in a while "the ... lights would turn off." Each time the lights would go out, the place would erupt into cheers. However, when the revelers saw the nun, the room went dead silent. She walked up to the bartender, and asked, "May I please use the restroom? The bartender replied, "OK, but I should warn you that there is a statue of a naked man in there wearing only a fig leaf." "Well, in that case, I'll just look the other way," said the nun. So the bartender showed the nun to the back of the restaurant. After a few minutes, she came back out, and the whole place stopped just long enough to give the nun a loud round of applause. ! She went to the bartender and said, "Sir, I don't understand. Why did they applaud for me just because I went to the restroom?" "Well, now they know you're one of us," said the bartender, "Would you like a drink?" "No thank you, but, I still don't understand," said the puzzled nun. "You see," laughed the bartender, "every time someone lifts the fig leaf on that statue, the lights go out.
A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional booth, sits down and says nothing.
The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention but the drunk continues to sit there.
Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall.
The drunk mumbles, "no use knocking, there's no paper on this side either."
A once in a lifetime opportunity! A mate of mine has two tickets for an all-inclusive function for the NRL Grand Final this weekend. It's a full day arrangement with all meals, entertainment, primo seats in the box and an open bar. Limo transport included to and from the event. However, he booked the function months ago and has just realised it's the same day as his wedding. If anyone would like to go in his place, the service is at St Michaels Church in the city at 2:30pm and her name is Julie.
An Infantry Major was about to start the morning briefing to his staff and while waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing, the Major decided to pose a question to all assembled.
He explained that his wife had been a bit frisky the night before and he failed to get his usual amount of sound sleep and demanded to know how much of sex was "work" and how much of it was "pleasure?"
A Captain chimed in with 75-25% in favour of work.
A Lieutenant said it was 50-50%.
A 2nd Lieutenant responded with 25-75% in favour of pleasure, depending upon his state of inebriation at the time.
There being no consensus, the Major turned to the Private who was in charge of making the coffee. What was his opinion?
Without any hesitation, the young Private responded, "Sir, it has to be 100% pleasure."
The Major was surprised and, as you might guess, asked why?
"Well, sir," said the Private, "If there was any work involved, the officers would have me doing it for them."
Select to expand quoteBikers were riding west on I-70 when they saw a girl about to jump off a Bridge. So they stopped.
George, their leader, a big burly man of 53, gets off his Harley, walks through a group of gawkers, past the State
Trooper who was trying to talk her down off the railing, and says, "Hey Baby.....whatcha doin' up there on that railin'?"
She says tearfully, "I'm going to commit suicide!!" While he didn't want to appear "sensitive," George also didn't want to miss this "be-a-legend" opportunity either so he asked ..."Well, before you jump, Honey-Babe...why don't you give ole George here your best last kiss?" So, with no hesitation at all, she leaned back over the railing and did just that ... and it was a long, deep, lingering kiss followed immediately by another even better one. After they breathlessly finished, George gets a big thumbs-up approval from his biker-buddies, the onlookers, and even
the State Trooper, and then says, "Wow! That was the best kiss I have ever had, Honey! That's a real talent you're wasting, Sugar Shorts. You could be famous if you rode with me. Why are you committing suicide?" "My parents don't like me dressing like a girl."
It's still unclear whether she jumped or was pushed.
Select to expand quoteLeading Brexit advocate Nigel Farage goes into a bar and asks for a pint of beer. The barman draws it, only to throw it into his face!
"Why did you do that?" the outraged Farage asks.
"You asked for a pint," the barman replies, "but you didn't say how you wanted it delivered."
"I'll have a pint," Farage says carefully, wiping himself down, "in a pint glass."
"No. You can't ask again."
"Why not?"
"Democracy."
While riding my Harley, I swerved to avoid hitting a deer, lost control and landed in a ditch, severely banging my head.
Dazed and confused I crawled out of the ditch to the edge of the road when a shiny new convertible pulled up with a very beautiful woman who asked, "Are you okay?"
As I looked up, I noticed she was wearing a low cut blouse with cleavage to die for... "I'm okay I think," I replied as I pulled myself up to the side of the car to get a closer look.
She said, "Get in and I'll take you home so I can clean and bandage that nasty scrape on your head." "That's nice of you," I answered, "but I don't think my wife will like me doing that!"
"Oh, come now, I'm a nurse," she insisted. "I need to see if you have any more scrapes and then treat them properly." Well, she was really pretty and very persuasive. Being sort of shaken and weak, I agreed, but repeated, "I'm sure my wife won't like this."
We arrived at her place which was just a few miles away and, after a couple of cold beers and the bandaging, I thanked her and said, "I feel a lot better, but I know my wife is going to be really upset so I'd better go now."
"Don't be silly!" she said with a smile, while unbuttoning her blouse exposing the most beautiful set of boobs I've ever seen. "Stay for a while. She won't know anything. By the way, where is she?"
"Still in the ditch with my Harley, I guess.
At a vineyard, the regular taster died and the director started looking for a new one to hire.A drunkard with a ragged, dirty look came in to apply for the position. The director of the winery wondered how to send him away. He gave him a glass to drink.
The drunk tried it and said, "It's a Muscat, three years old, grown on a north slope, matured in steel containers. Low grade, but acceptable"
"That's correct", said the boss. Another glass...
"This is a Cabernet, eight years old, a south-western slope, oak barrels, matured at 8 degrees. Requires three more years for finest results"
"Correct." A third glass...
"It's a Pinot Blanc Champagne, high grade and exclusive,'' the drunk said calmly.
The director was astonished. He winked at his secretary, secretly suggesting something. She left the room, and came back in with a glass of urine.
"It's a blonde, 26 years old, three months pregnant and if I don't get the job I'll name the father"
Copied from "Totes inappropes" facebook page
Are you or could anybody that you know be a running wanker?
Think about it...it's startling but you could be a wanker without even knowing it!
It starts off innocently enough. One day, it's all under control.
A little 5K race.
And then ParkRun.
Maybe a 10K race.
But these gateway events are just that.
They can and do lead to much more extreme events.
Soon a 5-kilometre race isn't enough. A 10K just won't suffice. Your little recreational run with friends on a Saturday morning is being replaced by a Sunday morning half marathon. You used to think that it was epic that you could run ten miles but all of a sudden ten miles is a short training run.
So, you look at marathons.
You're running every day.
You've had your gait analysed and bought some trainers that would have fed your family for ten days.
You sad ****. You've put some of that tape on your leg and started talking about your IT band.
You start reading Runners World. You keep telling yourself that it's okay. That you could stop anytime.
For ****s sake, you promised yourself that you never would, but you've gone and bought a buff! You didn't used to know what a buff was!
Your friends and family are becoming increasingly worried about you. You have had nights when you've laid off the booze because you have to get up in the morning and run.
And then you ask for a Garmin for Christmas. You've sunk so low.What has become of you? You've started looking at Ultras. The next thing is that you wake up one morning and you've booked to run seventy miles in twenty-four hours. Worse still, it cost a hundred and eighty quid!
The sad truth is that many runners start off with a ParkRun but it's just not enough. They have to go further and further to get their highs. They join running groups of likeminded people, who encourage their behaviour. Soon, they're entering trail runs, making excuses to family and friends about their shady behaviour.
Sick bastards!
Take Our quick quiz to see if you have entered into the murky world of running wankerdom.
One point per misdemeanour. If you answer affirmatively to over fifteen, there's no ****ing helping you. You'll probably die doing hill sprints.
You've used a foam roller.
Sunday mornings are sacred. Sunday mornings are for long runs!
You've bought special underwear for running in.
You've read a Runners World article and got something out of it.
You've bought a buff (you sad ****er!)
You've got scars from chafing.
Bought some Bodyglide.
Experimented with gels and claim that you've found one that doesn't taste like spunk (you're lying)
You've joined a club that use a track.An all time low.
Hill sprints, what's next?
Lost more than one toenail.
**** the bed! You've got some trail shoes!
You've spent more than ten quid on a pair of running socks.
Got overexcited at an expo and bought some really expensive **** that you don't need.
You own compression socks.
**** compression socks, you've got those arm warmers that Mo Farrah wears!
Feel bad on days that you don't run.
Have done a run that makes a picture on Strava.
Done a ghost run.
Tried an ice bath.
You've run wearing someone else's running number, so and had to smile every time someone shouted "Come on Trevor. You can do it!"
You wouldn't buy a race photo? Would you?
You've not got pissed on a Saturday night because of a run on Sunday.
You own more than three running jackets.
Entered the ballot for the London Marathon repeatedly.
You own more running kit than real clothes.
You have taken an outdoor **** on a run.
You don't bother with portaloos on race days. That's what bushes are for!
You cried when Eliad Kipchoge ran under two hours.
You consider Decathlon as a good day out.
Considered doing an ultra.
Ten miles is an easy training run.
Done an ultra.
You know where your IT band is.
Popped a blister on your foot with a needle.
Tried tailwind.
Taken tailwind in a plastic bag on a flight and explained to everyone concerned that it's not cocaine.
Worn a Camelback.
Sworn that you'll never race again and then promptly booked another race as soon as you finish.
Been unable to walk downstairs after a race and had to come down on your bum.
How did you do?
Up to five - There's still hope!
Five to ten - ****ing pull yourself together!
Ten to fifteen - You should be ashamed!
Over fifteen - You poor sick individual! There's no ****ing hope.
There is hope for the afflicted. It's not too late. We are running intensive courses for these poor addicts. Please get in touch if you're suffering.
Hi, my name is Totes and I'm a running wanker. X
We have a group on Facebook called 'Run Bitch Run' for people that like running, boozing and swearing - wound shots encouraged...
