All Over Bar the Shouting

As the EU slowly disintegrates and the Germans stand by, ready to take over the mainland continent at last, I’m reminded of a tale an elderly Uncle tells of landing recently at CDG, Paris. At the French immigration desk he took a few moments to locate his passport in his hand-luggage.

“You ‘ave been to France before, Monsieur?” the French immigration officer asks with typical french hauteur.

“Yes I have” the elderly gentleman replies

“Then you should know that you ‘ave to ‘ave your passport ready”

The elderly British gentleman replies “But the last time I was here, I didn’t have to show it.”

“C’est impossible! The British always have to show their passports on arrival in France!”

The elderly British man gives the Frenchman a long hard look. Then quietly explaines “Well, when I came ashore on that Normandy Beach on D-Day in 1944, I couldn’t find any f***ing Frenchmen to show it to…”

Having saved the sundry wops, dagos, spics and frogs from the sausage-munchers twice in one Century, let the buggers save themselves this time.

These continentals need a history lesson occasionally - a bit like the Lufthansa Pilot at Frankfurt, upbraided by Air Traffic Control for requesting take-off clearance in German.

"I am a German pilot, flying a plane of the national airline from an airport in my own Country - why should I speak in English?"

"Because we won the war" answered a BA pilot on final approach!