The Monday Morning Mirth

Tag: Queen

  • The Shortest Essay

    This is a story of a 16 year-old boy from Tamworth who won the World’s Shortest Essay competition.

    He was awarded a scholarship at the University of Sydney for his imagination and humour…

    Here it is…

    Shortest Essay:

    An English university creative writing class was asked to write a concise essay containing the following elements:

    • Religion

    • Royalty

    • Physical Disability

    • Racism

    • Homosexuality

    The prize-winner wrote:

    ‘My God,’ cried the Queen, ‘That one-legged coon is a poofter’.

  • To the Citizens of the United States of America from Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

    In light of your immediate failure to financially manage yourselves and also in recent years your tendency to elect incompetent Presidents of the USA and therefore not able to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately. (You should look up ‘revocation’ in the Oxford English Dictionary.)
     
    Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas, which she does not fancy).
     
    Your new Prime Minister, David Cameron, will appoint a Governor for America without the need for further elections.
     
    Congress and the Senate will be disbanded.  A questionnaire may be circulated sometime 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:
     
    1. The letter ‘U’ will be reinstated in words such as ‘colour,’ ‘favour,’ ‘labour’ and ‘neighbour.’  Likewise, you will learn to spell ‘doughnut’ without skipping half the letters,  and the suffix ‘-ize’ will be replaced by the suffix ‘-ise.’  Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels.  (look up ‘vocabulary’).
    ————————
    2. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as ”like’ and ‘you know’ is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. There is no such thing as U.S. English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf.  The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take into account the reinstated letter ‘u” and the elimination of  ‘-ize.’
    ——————-
    3. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.
    —————–
    4. 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 quite ready to be independent.  Guns should only be used for shooting grouse.  If you can’t sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist, then you’re not ready to shoot grouse.
    ———————-
    5. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler.  Although a permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.
    ———————-
    6. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left side with immediate effect.  At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables.   Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.
    ——————–
    7. The former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline) of roughly $10/US gallon.  Get used to it.
    ——————-
    8. You will learn to make real chips.  Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps.  Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed, not with ketchup, but with vinegar.
    ——————-
    9. The cold, tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all.  Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of  known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager.  New Zealand beer is also acceptable, as New Zealand is pound for pound the greatest sporting nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer.  They are also part of the British Commonwealth – see what it did for them.  American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat’s Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion.
    ———————
    10. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys.  Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters.  Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one’s ears removed with a cheese grater.
    ———————
    11. You will cease playing American football.  There are only two kinds of proper football; one you call soccer, and rugby (dominated by the New Zealanders).  Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies).
    ———————
    12. Further, you will 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 2.1% of you are aware there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable.  You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the Australians (World dominators) first to take the sting out of their deliveries.
    ——————–
    13. You must tell us who killed JFK.  It’s been driving us mad.
    —————–
    14. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty’s Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).
    —————
    15. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 p.m. with proper cups, with saucers, and never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; plus strawberries (with cream)  when in season.
     
    God Save the Queen!

  • President Obama in London

    As Air Force One arrives at Heathrow Airport, President Obama strides to a warm and dignified reception from the Queen.

    They are driven in a 1934 Bentley to the edge of central London, where they change to a magnificent 17th century carriage hitched to six white horses. They continue on towards Buckingham Palace, waving to the thousands of cheering Britons; all is going well.

    Suddenly the right rear horse lets fly with the most horrendous earth shattering fart ever heard in the British Empire. The smell is atrocious and both passengers in the carriage must use handkerchiefs over their noses. The fart shakes the coach, but the two dignitaries of State do their best to ignore the incident.

    The Queen turns to President Obama, " Mr. President, please accept my regrets… I  am sure you understand there are some things that even a Queen cannot control."

    Obama, always trying to be "Presidential", replied: "Your Majesty, do not give the matter another thought… Until you mentioned it, I thought it was one of the horses.

  • The Flight Attendant

    My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.

    As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and said….

    ‘Captain Harvey has asked me to announce that he’ll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super.’ On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed and rather Arabic looking woman hadn’t moved a muscle. ‘Perhaps you didn’t hear me over those big brute engines when I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground…’

    She calmly turned her head and said, ‘In my country, I am called a Princess and I take orders from no one.’

    To which the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, ‘Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I’m called a Queen, so I outrank you. Tray-up, Bitch’

  • Dave Barry’s Colonoscopy Experience

    I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy.  A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis .  Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner.  I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn’t really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, ‘HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!’
     
    I left Andy’ s office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called ‘MoviPrep,’ which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven.  I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America ‘s enemies.
     
    I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.  Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation.  In accordance with my instructions, I didn’t eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor.  Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep.  You mix two packets of powder together in a one-litre plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water.  (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a litre is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug.  This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes – and here I am being kind – like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
     
    The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, ‘a loose, watery bowel movement may result.’  This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
     
    MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don’t want to be too graphic, here, but:  Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch?  This is pretty much the MoviPr ep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt.  You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently.  You eliminate everything.  And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another litre of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
     
    After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.  The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic.  I was very nervous.  Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage.  I was thinking, ‘What if I spurt on Andy?’  How do you apologize to a friend for something like that?  Flowers would not be enough.
     
    At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said.  Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
     
    Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand.  Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down.  Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep.  At first I was ticked off that I hadn’t thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode.  You would have no choice but to burn your house.
     
    When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist.  I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere.  I was seriously nervous at this point.  Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand.  There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA.  I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, ‘Dancing Queen’ had to be the least appropriate.
     
    ‘You want me to turn it up?’ said Andy, from somewhere behind me. ‘Ha ha,’ I said.  And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade.  If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
     
    I have no idea.  Really.  I slept through it.  One moment, ABBA was yelling ‘Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,’ and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood.  Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt.  I felt excellent.  I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors.  I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

    Dave Barry

  • To the Citizens of the United States of America

    To the citizens of the United States of America…

    In light of your failure to elect a competent President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately.

    Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (excepting Kansas, which she does not fancy).

    Your new prime minister, Tony Blair, will appoint a governor for America without the need for further elections.

    Congress and the Senate will be disbanded.

    A questionnaire may 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, and check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

    The letter ‘U’ will be reinstated in words such as ‘favour’ and ‘neighbour.’ Likewise, you will learn to spell ‘doughnut’ without skipping half the letters, and the suffix -ize will be replaced by the suffix -ise. Generally, you will be expected to 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. 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 will relearn your original national anthem, God Save The Queen.

    July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.

    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.

    Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. A permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

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

    All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and 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. Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

    The Former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline)-roughly $6/US gallon. Get used to it.

    You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.

    The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat’s Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion.

    Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters. Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one’s ears removed with a cheese grater.

    You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies).

    Further, you will 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 2.1% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable.

    You must tell us who killed JFK. It’s been driving us mad.

    An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty’s Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).

    Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 pm with proper cups, never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; strawberries in season.

    John Cleese

  • George Bush and the Queen

    George Bush is visiting the Queen Elizabeth of England.

    He asks her, "Your Majesty, how do you run such an efficient government? Are there any tips you can give me?"

    "Well," says the Queen, "the most important thing is to surround yourself with intelligent people."

    Bush frowns. "But how do I know the people around me are really intelligent?"

    The Queen takes a sip of tea. Oh, that’s easy. You just ask them to answer an intelligence riddle.

    The Queen pushes a button on her intercom. Please send The Prime Minister in here, would you?"

    Tony Blair walks into the room. "Your Majesty…"

    The Queen smiles. "Answer me this, please, Tony. Your mother and father have a child. It is not your brother and it is not your sister. Who is it?"

    Without pausing for a moment, Blair answers, "That would be me!"

    "Yes! Very good!" says the Queen.

    Back at the White House, Bush calls in his vice president, Dick Cheney.

    Dick, answer this for me.

    "Your mother and your father have a child. It’s not your brother and it’s not your sister. Who is it?"

    "I’m not sure," says the vice president. "Let me get back to you on that one."

    Dick Cheney goes to his advisers and asks every one, but none can give him an answer.

    Finally, he ends up in the men’s room and recognizes Colin Powell’s shoes in the next stall.

    Dick shouts, "Colin! Can you answer this for me? Your mother and father have a child and it’s not your brother or your sister. Who is it?"

    Colin Powell yells back, "That’s easy. It’s me!"

    Dick Cheney smiles. Thanks!"

    Cheney goes back to the Oval Office and asks to speak with Bush.

    Say, I did some research and I have the answer to that riddle. It’s Colin Powell."

    Bush gets up, stomps over to Dick Cheney, and angrily yells into his face, "No, you moron! It’s Tony Blair!"

  • Queen Elizabeth and Dolly Parton

    Queen Elizabeth and Dolly Parton die on the same day, and they both go before St. Peter to find out if they’ll be admitted to heaven.

    Unfortunately, there’s only one space left that day, so St. Peter must decide which of them gets in.

    St. Peter asks Dolly if there’s some particular reason why she should go to heaven, so she takes off her top and says, "Look at these. They’re the most perfect ones God ever created, and I’m sure it will please him to be able to see them every day for eternity."

    St. Peter thanks Dolly, and asks Queen Liz the same question. She then drops her skirt and panties, takes a bottle of Perrier out of her purse, shakes it up, and douches with it.

    St. Peter says, "OK, Your Majesty, you may go in".

    Dolly is outraged. She screams, "What was that all about? I show you two of God’s own creations, she performs a disgusting, hygiene act, and gets in and I don’t?!"

    "Sorry, Dolly," says St. Peter, "but a royal flush beats a pair any day."

  • Michael the Dragon Master

    Michael the Dragon Master was an official in King Arthur’s court. He had a long-standing obsession to nuzzle the beautiful Queen’s voluptuous breasts.

    But he knew the penalty for this would be death. One day he revealed his secret desire to his colleague, Horatio, who was the King’s chief physician.

    Horatio said, "I can arrange it, but I will need 1,000 gold coins to pay bribes." Michael the Dragon Master readily agreed.

    The next day Horatio made up a batch of itching powder and poured a little of it into the Queens brassiere while she was taking a bath. Soon after she dressed the itching commenced and grew in intensity.

    Upon being called to the royal chambers, Horatio told the King that only a special saliva, if applied for four hours, would cure this type of itch, and that tests had shown such a saliva was only to be found in Michael the Dragon Master’s mouth.

    King Arthur summoned Michael the Dragon Master. Michael the Dragon Master slipped the antidote lotion into his mouth and for the next four hours worked passionately on the Queen’s magnificent breasts.

    Satisfied, he returned to his chamber and found Horatio demanding payment. However, with his obsession now satisfied, he refused to pay Horatio anything and shooed him away, knowing that Horatio could never report this matter to the King.

    The next day, Horatio slipped a massive dose of the same itching powder onto King Arthur’s loincloth. King Arthur summoned Michael the Dragon Master…

    Moral of the story: Pay your bills.