The difference between heaven and hell:<BR><BR>In heaven:<BR>The police are English<BR>The French do the cooking<BR>The Italians are in charge of romance<BR>The Germans are in charge of organisation<BR><BR>In Hell:<BR>The police are French<BR>The English do the cooking<BR>The Germans are in charge of romance<BR>The Italians are in charge of organisation.<BR><BR><BR>

Hell sounds a lot funnier! ;o)

And Americans, who all live in Purgatory, visit both heaven and hell, dressed in white tennis shoes, shorts, Disney t-shirts, baseball caps, and talk very loudly, complaining that things just aren't the same as they are in Purgatory.

The way I learned it, you left out a country (the Swiss) and a profession (mechanic).<BR><BR>In heaven,<BR><BR>the police are all British<BR>the cooks are all French<BR>the mechanics are all German<BR>the lovers are all Italian<BR>and the Swiss are in charge of everything<BR><BR>In hell,<BR><BR>the police are all Germans<BR>the cooks are all British<BR>the mechanics are all French<BR>the lovers are all Swiss<BR>and the Italians are in charge of everything.<BR><BR>Best wishes,<BR><BR>Rex<BR>

topping<BR>

I've got a very funny (at least I think so) French police story...<BR>When I was in Paris this past spring, there were daily demonstations and public gatherings concerning the elections and Lepen. One late afternoon after a day of sightseeing, my boyfriend and I walked up out of the Cardinal Lemoine metro station. We'd barely crossed the street when a whole squadron of police cars and vans came roaring over, blocking all four streets of the intersection. We could see the officers were dressed in riot gear. Hmm, we thought, this looks serious, lets hang around and see what happens. (It turns out there was a demonstation in front of the Pantheon)<BR>Eventually, the police officers got out of their vehicles. Some were consulting maps. Some were guarding the metro entrances. All looked extremely relaxed. In fact, before long some were leaning aginst their cars, smoking cigarettes and tapping tocabaco into pipes. Suddenly, the doors to the largest van slid open. We peered in from our position on the sidewalk, expecting to see the inside of a "paddy wagon", or perhaps police weapons. Wrong. It was a catering van!<BR>Yes, the inside of that van was equiped with a big, fancy coffee machine, boxes of Evian, crates of wine, and trays of delicate, sugar-coated, cream-puffed pasteries. We were stunned. An officer came out of the van with some pasteries and jokingly oferred us one. Apperantly it was snack time for the riot police. They were munching baguettes, smoking pipes, drinking wine. We could see some of them inside the vans, seated with little fold out trays on their knees. Others ate outside, giving directions to tourists. You must understand, these police officers were dressed in full riot gear- knee-high black boots, billy clubs, bullet-proof vests. Sheild helmets were left on the roof of the cars, or inside the vans. Here was living proof of the stereotype of fine French living; even on-duty riot cops eat well! I was so glad we got to see this as we thought it hysterically funny. Not long ago in Toronto riot cops closed down Yorkville because some G-8 mucky-mucks (not the leaders) had a meeting at the Four Seasons. Walking around was like being in a science fiction or Nazi movie- very other-worldly and intimidating. But in Paris, the police closed down a section of the city with all the joie de vive of a French dinner party. It was one of the most memorable sights of our trip!

Thank you, thank you, thank you! I just tried to tell this joke to an Italian woman on the train in Rome and couldn't for the life of me remember it correctly. I heard Rex's version originally (actually saw it printed on a T-shirt, front and back).

so much "new" here is actually "old"...<BR>

But

Great story, Gigi.

What is the temperature in hell in September?