Littly Candy from Eastern Europe waiting for Her Boyfriend EU in Brussel

This superb story circulates at present among us 'Eurocrats'


> Subject:      FW: EU + Enlargement??
> Importance:   Low
> 
> Candy (secrets of a Brussels' flirtation)
> 
>                          We have discovered another series of letters
> between a hopeful girl in Central
>                          Europe and her man-friend in Brussels. 
>                          The letters are private and confidential, and all
> we know about the authors is that
>                          her name is Candida, and his initials are E.U. 
>                          Their correspondence reveals a story of passion
> and hope, and sometimes
>                          frustration ... 
> 
>                          Dear E.U. 
>                          It is such a long time since I heard from you.
> Have you forgotten me? I am the girl
>                          who wants to come in from the cold and join your
> wonderful club in Brussels. 
>                          Don't you remember that you promised me years ago
> in Copenhagen that we could
>                          live together as soon as I pass all your tests?
> Since then I have worked hard, but I
>                          am still waiting to know the date. 
>                          From your unhappy friend, Candida 
> 
>                          Dear Candida, 
>                          No, I have not forgotten you, but I am a very
> busy man. I have to spend all my time
>                          at the IGC. That's the big argument between the
> fifteen boys & girls here about who
>                          should have the best seats at the dinner-table.
> When we have finished that, we can
>                          think more seriously about a date with you. 
>                          Yours sincerely, E.U. 
> 
>                          Dear E.U. 
>                          Do you expect me to believe that story? I know
> what the IGC is really about : the big
>                          boys want to make the little girls sit at the end
> of the table, and by the time I get
>                          there, I shall have to sit on the floor. 
>                          But I still do my exercises every day, to grow
> strong and healthy for you. Your Dr.
>                          Verheugen comes regularly to make reports on me.
> He is so cuddly! Last week he
>                          put his arms around me, and said he wanted to
> test my administrative capacity and
>                          take my economic measurements. 
>                          My growth rate is quite impressive. Do you know,
> my vital statistics now are
>                          96-68-92! 
>                          Your hopeful Candida 
> 
>                          Dear Candida, 
>                          Wow, big girl! Your statistics are almost too
> good to be true. When can I see some
>                          photos of you? 
>                          I am not so sure about that doctor. He talks to
> too many journalists, you never know
>                          what you are going to read next about him. 
>                          Take your clothes off for an examination, if he
> insists, but do not let him touch your
>                          referendum! 
>                          Remember poor old Rasmussen in Denmark, he had a
> very bad experience with his
>                          referendum. He consulted the world-famous
> urologist, Dr. Solbes, and it did him no
>                          good at all. 
>                          From your interested friend, E.U. 
> 
>                          Dear E.U. 
>                          I have been reading about the plague of mad cows
> in your part of Europe. What is
>                          this BSE disease? Will I catch it from your crazy
> agriculture policy? 
>                          Here is a photo of me dancing the polka in
> Krakow, and another of me bathing at
>                          Lake Balaton. Hope you like them! 
>                          E.U., I wonder where we could sign the papers to
> celebrate our union? How about
>                          Rome? That's where this European business
> started, isn't it? I could ask my dear old
>                          uncle there, Jan Pawel Wojtyla, to give us a
> blessing, and lend us his Popemobile for
>                          our honeymoon. 
>                          Your special friend, Candida 
>                          P.S. You can call me Candy. 
> 
>                          Dear Candy, 
>                          Great pics! What a figure! You may be poor, but
> you sure are sexy. How did you
>                          learn to do all those things with your arms and
> legs? 
>                          Hoping to see you soon, good wishes from your
> E.U. 
> 
>                          My dear E.U. 
>                          I learned most of my tricks from the newsletter
> which your Presidency sends me. It's
>                          called "1001 Negotiating Positions" and it tells
> you everything you can do with the
>                          acquis. You know, it's amazing where you can put
> that acquis. With a bit of practice,
>                          you can even take it in your ... well, perhaps I
> shouldn't tell you all my secrets. 
>                          I am still worried about that BSE. What does it
> mean? BSE : British Sabotage of
>                          Europe? 
>                          Also, my mother has read in a magazine about a
> Big Bang that you are supposed to
>                          be planning with your new members. She thinks it
> may be a gang-bang, and she
>                          doesn't want her daughter to be involved in that
> kind of orgy. Can you reassure her?
> 
>                          Your affectionate Candy 
> 
>                          Dear Candy 
>                          You can tell your mother that widening and
> deepening are not the same thing as
>                          group sex. 
>                          I am writing this letter to you in Nice, where we
> have come for our end-of-term
>                          excursion. Yesterday I sent you a funny postcard,
> with a picture of the
>                          Franco-German couple on the beach, practising
> their new sport : wrestling. 
>                          We are trying to finish the IGC, but Chirac, who
> organised our trip to Nice, is not
>                          good at mathematics. He forgot to bring his
> pocket calculator, and he was very rude
>                          when Professor Prodi tried to explain how to
> count from 15 to 27. 
>                          You are always in my thoughts, E.U. 
> 
>                          Dear E.U. 
>                          Your letter makes me anxious, and your postcard
> has still not arrived. I think it must
>                          have been stolen by Chirac's partner Jospin, who
> is so jealous of him. What a queer
>                          couple they are! Cohabitation is not a
> satisfactory kind of relationship, you know. 
>                          I am really worried about what you are doing in
> Nice. Are you practising French
>                          conversation .... or French kisses? 
>                          I suspect there are too many journalists there,
> with nothing to do, and everybody
>                          knows that journalism is the oldest profession
> ... 
>                          Tell me soon that all is well. 
>                          Your concerned Candy 
> 
>                          My dear little Candy, 
>                          Good news, at last we solved the seating problem!
> The Belgian was really difficult,
>                          but in the end we silenced him by promising to
> make all our excursions in future to
>                          Brussels. How boring! 
>                          But we decided to have another IGC soon, because
> they are such fun. As long as you
>                          have a party like that going, you don't need to
> do any real work! 
>                          By the way, don't worry too much about BSE, by
> the time you get here there won't
>                          be any cows left. 
>                          Now for the really big news! I am sending you a
> copy of my new road map, showing
>                          you the best and quickest way to get here. Do
> tell me what you think of it. 
>                          Best wishes from E.U. 
> 
>                          Dear Cartographer, 
>                          I studied your map, but I can't make any sense of
> it. The road signs are in eleven
>                          languages, and they all point in different
> directions. 
>                          I have to say honestly, E.U., that I am beginning
> to wonder if I have made the right
>                          choice with you. The captain of our football
> team, Viktor Orban, has published a book
>                          entitled 'How I Discovered that there is Life
> outside Brussels', and I just read the first
>                          chapter, 'Budapest by Night'. Perhaps I should be
> thinking about other options for my
>                          future. 
>                          Your unhappy Candy 
> 
>                          Dear little Candy 
>                          You shouldn't believe what you read in that kind
> of book. There was another one by
>                          Tony Blair called 'How to Find the Heart of
> Europe', and he hasn't got a single Euro in
>                          his pocket yet. 
>                          Anyway, things are really cool here. We have
> opened a new disco called The Rapid
>                          Reaction, which the Americans are crazy about.
> And the Russians have invited us for
>                          a dance at their naval base in Kaliningrad. 
>                          Last week, my dear, I was in the Balkans too, and
> the girls there are terribly keen to
>                          join us. 
>                          Hoping to see you one day, your friend E.U. 
> 
>                          Dear Mr. E.U. 
>                          That finishes it for me! 
>                          I knew you were making secret visits to the
> Turkish baths. Now you are flirting with
>                          Russian sailors and Balkan beauties. 
>                          Don't try to deny it! That girl from Montenegro,
> I saw you on the TV showing her your
>                          Stability Pact. And that Albanian woman, you
> talked to her all night about your ideas
>                          for a meaningful relationship, didn't you! 
>                          So, you faithless, double-talking E.U., I am
> tired of playing the dating game with you.
>                          I know what your initials really stand for. E.U.:
> Everlasting Uncertainty. 
>                          I am not going to do any more of your enlargement
> exercises. No Big Bang with me,
>                          not even a Little Bang! 
>                          Your completely disillusioned Candida 
>                          P.S. Don't call me again ... and you can keep
> your acquis!